doing myself favors

Lately I have been doing myself plenty of nice favors. On Friday, I upgraded my seat at the symphony to premier second tier, effectively doubling my ticket price. I enjoyed Mendelssohn's violin concerto so much more without a 15-year-old texting into her phone next to me.

Symphony seating segments imprecisely along age lines. The power couples and family money are in the orchestra, the somewhat tired and rumpled but still kickin' are in the balcony. The septuagenarians sit nosebleed, center, and the kids and schoolteachers are in the wings. My favorite is with the fogies. No one looks around. When it's time for intermission, they're all looking at their feet.

Last weekend I met another new guy, thanks to my online dating service eHarmony. In 6 months of surfing profiles, I met two guys. They're both great. Maybe Dr. Warren is on to something.

I said goodbye to a disappointing love affair, finally.

Lastly, I'm interviewing for a new job. I've done my best to get along with colleagues and have done a passable job. I'd say I have one and a half head these days, Al. It may be that I'm not in the right sort of environment. I'm shooting for a product marketing manager job that would give me lots of new connections to other parts of the company and, with luck, a less political environment. There would be travel, to Phoenix, Atlanta, Boston, and possibly overseas to Europe and Japan. Oh, I bought a new suitcase, just in case. It is green.

Off now to meditate, have a swim, and meet the (long-suffering) Guy A for brunch. It's not clear if he saw me on the news or not, the night I canceled on him. He didn't mention it. He did however made me promise not to get sick again before scheduling a second date. Which in some ways is a perfectly reasonable request.

Aside: Guy B wanted me to meet his girlfriend for dinner. And some guy she has a crush on. It's all a bit too modern for me, so I passed. You really can't be too kind to yourself.

Oops

apparently, I appeared in a ten-second clip on NBC news last night.

Oops.

Good news: there is a Guy C.