Over the last week and half, I finished two books. One was The Bend Of The World (plagued by hipster punctuation, but I still enjoyed it). My favorite character was the narrator's gay friend Johnny, who believes in the most outlandish stuff ever. There is a whole section where he takes disassociative drugs in hopes of reaching the fifth dimension, and instead (as the narrator says) does what he always does when he's high: eats pizza, drinks beer, and sits at the computer in his underwear playing General Panzer II. But you get Johnny's version of that whole section, in which the reader can tell what's actually going on, and the results are funny. Johnny is visited by a masonic angel who insists he's just a deliveryman (and says, "Do I look like I come from the motherfucking Hollow Earth?"). Later, Johnny goes out to deliver a special message to Panzer and encounters vikings and their flaming chariot. Or a police car...
I also read Engines Of The Broken World, a YA book I picked up mainly for its title. Dystopian, spooky, unusual, sad, and amazing. It isn't anything like what you might expect.
We watched Her last weekend, in which Joaquin Phoenix sports glasses and a pornstache that successfully remove any edgy aspect of his appearance or demeanor. The future depicted there, with everyone babbling to their computers/wireless inserts/etc. and effectively ignoring the actual human beings around them... it's depressing how possible that seems. When people fall in love or form friendships with operating systems, it's a sad commentary on life. Although Scarlett Johansson did a fine job as the OS, I would have picked someone with a more alluring voice. It's like Nightvale, to a certain extent—when there is a heavy voice-aspect to a medium, pay more attention to how the actors doing the voicework sound (fewer nasal, baby-voiced characters, Nightvale!). I'm sure Mimi Rogers would have liked a shot at some work. ;)
We also watched The Green Mile, after avoiding it for years because we just weren't emotionally up to it. Terrific movie and cast. I'm sorry Michael Clarke Duncan is no longer with us, and will never get another chance at an Oscar.
In addition to trying to write an Idol entry this weekend, I need to shop for fun gifts for my daughter's 17th birthday. She has no real wishlist, which doesn't help. I'll make a futile attempt today to interest her in something like this Starry Night Skater Skirt, which I'm sure she'll think is too 'something.' Too colorful, too out-there, IDK. If I had the figure to wear it, I'd buy it for myself! But with the short-torsoed hourglass figure (at my best), that cut of skirt looks more like a tutu than anything. :(
Ooh, speaking of birthdays: A tiny birthday party for a tiny hedgehog. \o/
