Silence on a Saturday

This is turning out to be my laziest Saturday in some time. I started out the day with serious activity. First I posted a fascinating entry about hubris, below. Then I made breakfast. It was no ordinary breakfast. I made steak and eggs. Okay. I let the meat soak in a dry marinade of chili powder, Old Bay, salt and pepper for the hour it took me to bake a quiche. The quiche contained eggs, cream, seasoning and parsley (my favorite herb ever). After the quiche was finished, I cooked the steaks in a hot pan full of butter. Sounds good? It was.

But since Jon left for work, I've just been bumming around. Napping.

I started to watch Reservoir Dogs but had to turn it off when Madsen started torturing the cop. I didn't want to get "stuck in the middle" of that.

Then I found Silence of the Lambs while flipping through the myriad HBO stations that come with DTV. I caught it 20 minutes into the movie. I missed the Chianti and that creepy guy cumming on Starling but did catch the first "quid, pro, quo Clarice"; the flaying and displaying of Charles Napier (one of his guards) in the courthouse scene; the scene where Gumb insists "It puts the lotion in the basket" when Catherine Harris, his victim, discovers nails in the walls of the well where she is being kept; and where Starling accidentally happens upon the scene of the crime. I love that scene. When she first walks into the house, she has no idea. Then, as she waits for Gumb to get her the phone number of Lipman's son, she starts putting it together. The discovery is sealed when she sees that odd moth.

I love that movie.

Now, I'm writing. Sure it's here and not on some other blank canvas but at least I'm writing.

If I stop writing, I'm going to have to decide what I should do next that doesn't involve napping.