So I recently read a little book called Night, by Elie Wiesel. It's written by a Holocaust survivor who was a teenager at the time. This is so terrible, but I was kind of unimpressed by the book. I mean, how can you criticize a book about the Holocaust? Obviously, it's not like I'm all, "Oh please, this is so stale." It's just...I found the writing...lacking. And it's a fucking memoir, so there's really no way for me to even go there.
But anyhoo, I was reading it at the restaurant's bar last night (see post below--chicken & waffles, baby) when D got there (I like to look like a girl who knows how to have a good Friday night) and while we were waiting for our table to be ready, he asked what I was reading. "It's a book about Auschwitz." And there was that moment, you know, when you know the other person doesn't know what you're talking about. It was kinda loud in there, though, so I said it again. "AUSCHWITZ." Again, nothing. And this doesn't make sense to me, because I KNOW he watched the Errol Morris film Mr. Death with me--or at least most of--albeit years ago. Plus, I mean, dude. Auschwitz.
Not that I'm trying to call him ignorant, I swear. What I don't know about religion could just about fill a fucking stadium or eight, so I'm sure I would ask terribly ignorant-sounding questions there. Ooh, and sometimes when I play Geosense and do the "world map" one, yeah, sometimes I pick THE WRONG CONTINENT. That's just how I roll, baby. Geography is this gaping hole in my education I've desperately tried to remedy by just, you know, actually GOING there. It's the only way I can keep that shit straight.
Anyhoo, so tonight we're watching Life Is Beautiful with dinner. Which, you know, doesn't take place at Auschwitz, to be fair. But it's one of my top three films and he's never seen it. And last night reminded me he hadn't seen it. Haven't seen it myself in a while--not really one you just pop in for good times. The first half is very funny and incredibly Chaplin-esque, but then you know, it gets all heavy and stuff. (In a good way, at least).
I seem to be making cheese fries...though I am at least using this yummy Whisky Cheddar from Central Market. So that makes it much classier. (The tiramisu blew them away at work, by the way, so whew. Soaked the ladyfingers just the right amount of time and everything.)