I have two words to describe the state of affairs of every single parking lot in this city: fucking insane. What do you expect, though, right? It's that time of year: the time when procrastinators and bargain hunters alike take to the streets in search of the elusive "perfect gift." Which, by the way, doesn't exist at the moment, because everything (and I mean everything) is picked over. I know this because I saw the crazed look on this one woman's face in Target as she went racing through the aisles clutching a box containing some form of kitchen appliance. The gritted teeth, the grimace, the white knuckles. And the trail of like three other people asking her where she had found it.
And do I dare mention the parking lots? I couldn't tell if I was in England, because of all the cars driving on the left side of the road, or if the traffic jams all over the parking lot meant that I was back in Los Angeles.
People, people, people. It's Albuquerque! Do we honestly need all the SUVs? I'm becoming continually more offended by the damn things. It's bad enough dealing with the asshole drivers who think they can drive them like sports cars. But the double-parking in compact parking spaces so that not only were two parking spots taken up, but the cars' fucking
asses rear bumpers were taking up half the lane. Bitches.
Next order of business. I have two words to describe Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, which Robert and I went to see this afternoon: fucking amazing.
Johnny Depp is amazing. Helena Bonham Carter is brilliant. The whole movie is a serious adrenaline rush. The music is intense, the lyrics are impossibly fast, the story hooks you and it's impossible not to get completely caught up in it. The darkness on the screen haunts you, and yet makes you feel like a part of the movie. You feel like you shouldn't actually be there, but can't tear yourself away, can't leave even though these people's lives are none of your business. You're a witness, and at times want to shout out what you know, or what you've seen, to the unsuspecting characters on screen.
Robert mentioned going back to see it a second, and maybe a third, time, and I have every intention of joining him. It's that good. Although I have to admit, the prospect of going to the barber soon is much more daunting now than it was yesterday. Even though they're not always perfect, it's at least a good thing Supercuts doesn't use straight razors.