Arrgh
I need to move this blog to another server. Geocities sucks. Sometimes http://www.geocities.com/tinmanblog/index.htm shows my latest entries and sometimes it doesn’t, and the same thing with http://www.geocities.com/tinmanblog/ (no index.htm). I have no idea why.
Anyone have any suggestions for new places to host me? Anyone want to host me?
Silver Spoons
Returning to an earlier theme of cultural detritus, last night I was flipping through the TV channels and discovered that Nick at Nite was running a “Silver Spoons” marathon. I watched the whole thing — I loved that show, and I hadn’t seen it in maybe 15 years. I used to watch it all the time; it was on Saturday nights at 8:30 on NBC, right after “Diff’rent Strokes.” (This was back when TV still had sitcoms that weren’t about a bunch of urban 20somethings — sitcoms that kids could watch.) Watching the eight-episode marathon last night, I got to see a young Ricky Schroder, as well as guest appearances by Mr. T, Gary Coleman, Menudo, and Whitney Houston. Wow. And one episode, from the later seasons, had 16-year-old Rick shirtless, wearing a towel. He was pretty impressive — smooth, built. Drool.
Another episode featured a young Jason Bateman, who had a recurring role on the series as Ricky’s troublemaking friend Derek Taylor. I always had a thing for Jason Bateman on that show, so this was a treat. And it turns out that he’s back on TV now, in a new CBS sitcom based on the movie “Kiss Me Guido,” and he actually plays the gay character. He’s on the cover of The Advocate this week. I don’t think I have as big a crush on him now as I did as a kid, though.
Heaven Ends
So, yesterday the office was closed and the snowstorm was a dud. And today it’s snowing, yet the office is open. I don’t get it.
I left my coworker’s house this morning after spending five wonderful evenings there, including a three-day weekend of pure relaxation. Between Sunday morning, when I went grocery shopping, and this morning, when I packed up my stuff and came to work, I didn’t leave the house at all. It was fantastic. I listened to opera CDs and WQXR, ate, napped, did the Sunday Times crossword, watched cable TV. Tonight I have to go back to my apartment, and a feeling of dread is returning. Right now, there are only a couple of simple things I want in life — a quiet place of my own, and time to relax there undisturbed — yet I’m worried about being able to achieve even those small things. I’m dreading my upstairs neighbors and my building’s thin walls, and I don’t know what I want to do when my clerkship ends in August.
Why, oh why, is it so difficult for me to be happy?