Move, bitch. Get out da way.

Last weekend, Boyfriend and I went to see the new Steve Carrell movie "Dan in real life". We waltzed into the theater 45 minutes after the movie had begun. It was really fun, trying to figure out the plot after it had happened. "Why is Dan embarrassed to be in the shower with the hot French actress? Oh, I bet he has a crush on her!!"

I almost never go to movies. I don't own a television set, either, because I find it difficult to care about people other than myself, especially fictional characters made up by bad writers. I care about Boyfriend, but Boyfriend sleeps with me, and that's a form of self-love, too.

Tonight I'm going to insist that we go see another movie, but this time, we will try to watch the whole thing.

And then I will go to see a therapist to determine if I am a) a sufferer of Asperger's Syndrome, or b) a relentlessly selfish bitch.