Oh man, the J-less weekends are like a slap in the face these days. Or, a series of slaps in the face. "Schmance, you awake? *Smack* You're alone. *Smack* Your friends? Married with kids and/or moved away. Also? You're fat. *Smack* Here, have some challah. Order a pizza. You're lonely. *Smack* Hey, it looks like there's a new rule: people are only allowed out of their homes in pairs now."

I used to love going to movies; now, not really. I still love the movies, I just hate sitting alone and watching the kissing on the big screen. For example, today I saw Bend it Like Beckham, which I really liked except for the sitting alone and the girl kissing the cute Irish coach. I suspect I may have been the only person in the theater who felt like crying (as in miserable lonely envious crying, not happy crying) when they kissed.

Kissing is so nice, if I remember correctly.

Must . . . stop . . . remembering.

Anyway, new rule: No more movies with kissing of any sort. If this means that from now on I only see Holocaust documentaries and films about the French Foreign Legion, so be it.

Actually, the French Foreign Legion is one of my favorite subjects. If you complete the required term of service, they will give you an entirely new identity when you leave (if you want). New passport, new name, the whole shebang. I have heard that they also give you a phone number that you can call anytime from anywhere if you are in dire straits and need someone to home and get you. I know someone who did military reconnaissance in Vietnam, and he worked with the French Foreign Legion; he has the most fascinating stories.

Sadly, the French Foreign Legion does not accept women. Pity. Probably wise of them, though. Might lead to kissing (or worse).

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