Still, I'm glad I went

Deanna Durbin was a huge star in the 1940s, and today she's mostly forgotten. Tonight I learned why. Her singing is annoyingly operatic. Give me Judy Garland any day.

That said, I'm still glad I went to my movie group's screening of Durbin's It Started with Eve (1941). The film featured a completely charming co-starring performance by Charles Laughton, and it got me out of the house and socializing.

I almost didn't go. I have work to do -- an assignment that needs to be completed before Monday afternoon. I assumed (correctly) that Joanna wouldn't be going because her dog has been so sick. And It Started with Eve isn't a movie I was even remotely curious about.

But I'm glad I did. First of all, of the 11 who RSVPd yes, only 3 of us showed up. Our moderator, Will, works so hard on these Meetups. I'm glad I could show my support.

And then there's the depression thing. This past week, two celebrities committed suicide. Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain. The news coverage of these events got me thinking about depression, and how easy it is for me to slide into it. It's a fine line with me. When does the alone time that energizes me turn into isolation that damages me? I must be vigilant.