2002-08-15 at 8:15 p.m.

My VCR is broken, and I don't know what to do with myself.

I had the evening all planned out. A cup of tea, a lot of chocolate, and a nice screening of 'Mars Attacks'. The tea was made, the chocolate opened, and the video inserted.

Nothing. Well, not nothing. Just a lot of static.

"Damn you, you stupid crappy videotape!" I yelled, wrenching it from the machine. "Oh well, I'll just have to watch Lord Of the Rings for the umpteenth time".

I put it in. More static.

Something was horribly, horribly wrong...

Which is why I'm online right now, updating my diary for the second time in a day. (Make a note of it, folks, because it will never happen again.) Without the possibility of cinematic entertainment, I'm at a loose end. I don't know what to do with myself.

Well, I know what I should be doing with myself. There are books stacked four-deep on my desk. My piano in the back room is begging to be played. I have to write a concert narrative on Tango music by Monday.

But I simply can't face that other, far more disturbing VCR- Very Crap Reality.

Even TV cannot save me now. 'Dawson's Creek, the College Years' is on. Why, oh Universe? Why do you mock me?

(Most of you will think it's pretty shallow to complain so vehemently and at length about a busted VCR. This is true. I have all the depth of a puddle in the Sahara, and all the inner angst of a 15 year old. Sorry.)

My VCR is broken. And so is my heart.