I considered giving up movies for an extended period--a fast, if you will--to see if I suffered any effects that suggested addiction.  I could take up reading poetry again; I haven’t finished my Wallace Stevens anthology. Then my friend who works for Hewlett-Packard asked me if I wanted to see a private screening of Shrek 2 for HP employees.  Now I know how Robert Downey Jr. feels.  “Hey, Robert, this is your buddy Charlie Sheen!  Congrats on getting through your narcotics rap with just probation and community service.  I’m going to stop by your place and give you a gift of a MOUNTAIN OF CRACK.”

“Private screening” is a bit of a misnomer when it’s a multi-theater complex and every single theater is showing the same movie to a full house. But at least when you hear people laughing in the next room, you know it’s at something funny and not, say, Scooby Doo 2.  And it was nice to see all the HP employees with their children in tow, all whispering prayers to Linux technology and Carla Fiorina.

It’s all for the best.  My fast would have only lasted until Spider-Man 2 anyway, and although Wallace Stevens is nice for the first few pages, it doesn’t take long before you just want to punch him in the face.

Other accomplishments: assisting with the creation of three pizzas, pinpointing a decent $9.00 bottle of wine (Rosemount), and taking a tour of a friend’s new house.  Notable failure: Attempting to start a conversation thread by asking, “Why is it that you can’t refer to ‘wheat’ in the singular?  You always have to say, ‘Pass me the wheat.’ What if you only want one?” As I sit here and type this, I’m still staggered that nobody in the room decided to run with this.