Today in class I thought about Spain. I thought about it so long and fervently that when I walked out of the English building I expected to see Pamplona streets marbled with dirt and rain. I miss the green hills and the feel of the old towns, evoking both curiosity and a peculiar familiarity, and my mouth waters at the very thought of tostadas. Spain is the one place I think I could love for what it is, for all its cracks and age and sadness. I'm afraid everywhere else I go in my lifetime will feel spectacularly disappointing in comparison.
* * * * *
It just so happens that the post last week about my crush on Scott Baio was surprisingly timely, as tonight I watched an episode of a new show on VH1 called "Scott Baio is 45...and Single."
Apparently the premise of the show is to pinpoint exactly how Baio -- a hard-partying, selfish misogynyst -- can change his life and become a productive member of society...and maybe even find love!
This breaks my heart. I suppose I've carried around this ideal of Baio as the endearing Chachi or the affable Charles in Charge. But here is the tragic truth:
Scott Baio is a real jerk.
If he doesn't succeed in becoming a kind person by the end of this VH1 show, I'm pretty sure the damage to my fantasy life will be irreparable. Okay, Scotty, I'm giving you another chance to prove yourself worthy of my love. But only because at 45, you're still a dish.
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