And I'm feeling so damn sorry for myself, I can barely breathe...Lucky you, you're here for rock bottom Greg Kinnear as
"the gay neighbor" in As Good As It Gets

OK yesterday when I left work I was in such a dark mood, I actually shook my fist at the sky and said "I renounce G-d." Which probably would have been much more effective, if I haven't done exactly that on many such occassions. The bad buddhist, who was accompanying me-as I tend to borrow his will to catapult me out of the office, said "Ah yes like Job."

"No," I replied," Not like Job. Job never rejected G-d, he simply questioned why G-d was allowing him to suffer. I'm beyond asking questions or even making hint laden remarks. I am rejecting him. I don't care about his rhetoric or reasoning or whatever. He's out. Fired. Call security and watch him clean out his desk."

"OK," the buddhist relented, "I got it."

And this was when things were going, relatively speaking, well.

From here I had to go and get fitted for a bridesmaid gown. Now everything in my closest is a size six or smaller. I feel fat even about that. And the gown that fit me was a SIZE 14! Can someone please explain to me how that is possible? Are the rules of physics altered in bridal gown stores?

Other bad things ensued and so finally I ended up having drinks with shutterbug and his wife. A year into the marriage, they both seem incredibly happy. Damn them both. As we drank, I was hit on by a 60 year old "Jazz chef" and, of course, my good friend the married Israeli who has made hitting on me something of a hobby.I managed to stumble back to my apartment and curl up with my cat, the only creature on the face of the earth for whom I feel any affection.

The only good thing about my day was as I sat on the bus I was hit on by a Jewish heavy metal singer who gave me his cd. So, I always have the tender strains of "I am Jew" to console me in my heartbreak.