No Clock for Old Women

Last night we watched the second-to-last Battlestar CanaGalactica/Galactacouver, zooming right through it on DVR by skipping all the commercials.

When it was over, David saw that No Country For Old Men was about to start on a movie channel. Without taking a break, we went from cold & bleak outer space to hot & dusty west Texas. I hadn't seen the movie and was sucked right in. I don't remember the last time I was so captivated by a movie.

When it ended, I glanced at the clock on the cable box. It read 12:10. You might be thinking, So??? Well, let me tell you. Last I remembered, it was about 8 o'clock and we'd just finished eating. I thought it might be about 9:30, maybe 10, but after midnight!? How did that happen?

I was robbed of two whole hours of my night! By the Cohen brothers! By a guy with a spectacular salad bowl Prince Valiant haircut and a shotgun with a silencer! Have you seen that gun!? It's fugging amazing!

Maybe not "robbed"... Not like the movies Tank Girl and Domino - outright time muggers that make you want to bludgeon their makers for having ever wasted all that film, or flog yourself for having wasted precious time watching such garbage.

It was jarring, is all, to go from feeling like it was still kinda early to BLAM - late. My internal clock was totally off and I was pissed. I need that clock to be right, since I hardly ever wear a watch anymore.

Still thinking about that movie today. "You can't stop what's comin'." "Believing it's all about you is just vanity." And now I want to talk just like Carla Jean and wear my cowboy boots everywhere. Evrawayer.