Not much exciting happened yesterday. I went to Tower Records last night and bought Touch of Evil, and came back here to watch it. The stark, jagged black shadows were great on a large television screen. The movie's so good that it overcomes the fact that Charlton Heston stars in it as a Mexican. My favourite parts of the movie, though, are the brief scenes between Orson Welles and Marlene Dietrich. In the moment she tells him his future is all "used up," you get the clear impression of what this guy was, and the tragedy of what he's become.
For dinner, I went with my family to a little restaurant called Mimi's, which is done up in a cutesy cottage-motif, looking a bit like Geppetto's restaurant at Disneyland. As we sat down, my mother immediately noticed her plate was dirty, and gave it to the waiter. I laughingly observed that she and my sister always complain about the restaurant, that we always got dirty plates or cutlery, that our orders were frequently screwed up--and so why were we even there? Then I noticed a waitress in earshot a few feet away. I'm not sure what special sauce may've been in the vegetable quesadilla I ordered, but I had trouble finishing it.
I suppose I better get to the things I gots to do . . .