I was supposed to go to the city tonight to go to a party,
but it was the sort that goes all night in an abandoned church,
and I found I couldn't face a hundred or so people I didn't
know. I just couldn't.

So I called Glen (whose name is David), and it turned out
he was also being a MegaPud and not going to parties on
this, the second-best party weekend of the year. So we
decided I would go to the city and watch a movie with him
on the couch. Fair enough.

So then I drove to the Sunnyvale train station and missed
the 8:14 train.

And then I drove to Palo Alto to catch the 9:03 bus. And
I know my way around Palo Alto, mind you. But I know my
way around by train and by bus and by bike. I seldom
drive in Palo Alto. And it shows. I got lost three times;
I always knew where I was, but I didn't know how to drive
to the place I wanted to be. And I finally found the bus
stop just in time to watch the bus pull away. While I
was going the opposite way down a divided road, so I couldn't
chase the bus.

Driving to the city on a normal Saturday is madness, but
tonight, on the second-best party night of the year, it is
unthinkable.

So I phoned Glen (whose name is David) and left a minute and a half
rant about all I'd gone through, saying I wasn't coming to the city
at all, and ended with, "...and in summary, I SO suck!" He got the
message and returned my call, sounding moderately amused. By then
I had already got lost again and ended up in Menlo Park, where there
are two good movie theaters on the same street. So I picked the
one that wasn't playing the David Lynch film and asked for a ticket
for whatever was showing at 9:30.

And I saw Bread and Tulips. It was thoroughly pleasant,
like seeing my own life on screen only with more colors. Well,
okay, the movie is full of eccentric characters, any one of whom I
could easily know. Or, well, be, to be honest. And there's even
a massage therapist, one of the deliciously fruity kind I got to
know well when I was in massage school. I feel much better
than I did when I left the house.