If I ever feel better.

People who read the last blog entry have been writing me for days to ask me why I was so depressed.

I honestly don't know why the mood hit me on Saturday, but it did. Then, Sunday happened, as it often does, and Sunday was better. And this week's been pretty much OK.

I mean, I saw "The Manchurian Candidate" with Ron this week, and a movie with Ron is usually a spirit-booster. (This time, I curtailed his usual cry for the no-longer-sold Raisinets by sneaking a pack into the theater, and he was happy.)

The fact that "The Manchurian Candidate," a remake of one of my favorite movies, was actually quite good made it an even better trip to the cinema.

Last night, I was supposed to go to dinner with Hennessy, but he got really sick and had to cancel. (Now, we might be doing something next week, according to today's e-mail exchange.)

At first, I was sorta upset about the plans being cancelled. So I put in a DVD.

It was a movie I hadn't seen called "Bubba Ho-Tep," and it's about an elderly Elvis Presley and a now-black JFK battling a 3,000-year-old mummy while living in a Texas nursing home.

And that cheered me up enough to make plans with Vic and head out of my apartment.

So I ended up in a bar in Buford last night with Vic, singing a karaoke version of "Luck Be A Lady" to a crowd of drunken people wearing flannel and tube tops.

So I guess I'm feeling better. I mean, I'm tired of having guys cancel on me at the last minute or the day of. But I'm fine.