Books and Movies and Boys, Oh My!

The main villain in No Country For Old Men has to be the creepiest character I have ever seen. Javier Bardem is brilliant, but he is going to haunt me in my dreams until I see him in another movie that doesn't involve him waiting in dark, empty rooms and shooting people without bullets and generally just being the scariest man on film.

More importantly, however, that was an excellent movie. I liked it especially because it was different than what I am used to. The suspense was brilliant. There was no soundtrack, and the dialog was the bare minimum necessary--cowboys don't waste words. I remember senior year English class, Ms. Witham talking about Cormack McCarthy's brilliance. She was right, I need to read more of his work than just half of All the Pretty Horses.

Now that she is retired, I have this romantic image of her on her horse in New Mexico, galloping around looking for cowboys. I just hope she doesn't run into any drug deals gone wrong--and if she does, let's hope she has the sense not to take the money. She seems to be the teacher from High School that I remember the most--granted, I had her for two years, and she was the sponsor for the Literary Magazine, but she was also more than just a teacher somehow. She had her horse and a mysterious past life that she would only talk about in sparse context. Like a cowboy. I barely knew her. Funny where stream of conscious writing gets me.

So add McCarthy to my reading list (I'm told The Road is excellent), after I finish V for Vendetta. I might want to, ya know, do some of my reading for class, too. And I have a list of books recommended to me over the summer that I still haven't read. I don't think there's much hope for my level of cultural literacy, though. It seems like every time someone mentions a book or movie or show or band I have no idea what they're talking about.

So little time, it seems. But I'm so prone to waste it. I've been incredibly lazy this week. I go to a frat to dance and have fun, and I do, and a guy trying to be suave introduces himself: "So my friends and I are playing this pick-up line game." I laugh of course, until he adds, "but I wasn't going to use any lines on you, I was just wondering if you have any suggestions for how I can pick her up?" And I wonder what they heck I'm doing there being tempted to dump my drink on this guy's head. "No... sorry... can't really think of anything..." Bastard.

I've been told I should have kicked him in the balls for hitting on me just to get to a friend, but then, I've also been told that I wasn't even insulted. I think it's both, but for different reasons. Whatever, I have books to read. And I should sleep.