I spent all evening staring at a uni-brow for nothing...

Last night, Stephen and I tried to do something we very rarely can find the strength to do- watch a movie. It isn't the staring at the TV for an extended period that we have trouble with. We never have a problem watching that lovable scamp Aaron Brown or the whimsical antics of Tony Soprano. And it isn't that we don't have access to quality DVD material. We are currently on a quest to watch every Buffy episode in order and making slow but steady progress at it too.

The real problem is Netflix. Netflix is a great idea for many people. Fixed monthly rate for as many movies you can watch, three at a time, with no shipping cost. Ingenious!

But what they don't tell you about it the darkside of Netflix. The pressure to watch enough movies each month to get your money's worth. The agony you experience each and every night you tell yourself "I'll finally get around to watching Love Story tomorrow night" only to realize you've deluded yourself again. The guilt felt when you realize that you've sent and received 6 movies and still haven't touched Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf. The anxiety over how to predict that you'll have Soapdish when you are in the mood to watch Soapdish, rather than Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. It's an emotional rollercoaster every time I glance at the DVD player. How can such an unassuming thin red sleeve bring such strife?

But each month we try to overcome our own Netflix insecurities and get through the chore of home entertainment. So last night we committed to watching Frida, after having it in our house since the end of March. An hour and 45 minutes into the movie, the picture froze. All attempts to clean the disc failed because there was a crack in the DVD- our efforts to overcome the pressure thwarted by defective merchandise!

I felt too silly to call and complain about the disc. "You know that DVD you sent us two months ago? Well it turns out it was broken." Just too embarrassing. But the website made it easy; no questions asked, they're sending a replacement of Frida. Just told them it's broken and sent it back. No judgmental comments, no disappointed sighs. Maybe Mr. Netflix wasn't sitting in his giant movie library laughing at us between his viewings of Dunston Checks In and My Fair Lady: Special Edition. Perhaps we aren't wasting money by not using Netflix effectively; instead we should concentrate on paying for the convenience. Maybe we've placed unrealistic movie expectations on ourselves. Maybe we'll get around to watching the last half hour of Frida sometime in August. And that'll be okay.