Burn After Reading

I’m waiting for Ralf to download a bunch of pics from our camera but since he’s working on taxes today it feels like the wrong time to ask.

So, I will try to post a picture of the new do as soon as I can. If, that is, I can get a good one because only about 2 out of 100 pictures of me turn out well. So it could take a while. . .

In the meantime, here is my all-time favorite picture from HS, apparently before there were color pictures. This self-portrait depicts the expression I had on my face in government class as well as from 2000-2008. It is also the expression I had on my face while watching Burn After Reading last night. Or was it Burn Before Watching?

To set the scene: Last night Ralf and I had our SECOND date night in two weeks, probably the last one for a while since his parents are going to Vietnam for a month. Just enjoying it while we can.

We wanted to go for dinner and then catch Benjamin Button in the English Theater but he movie started at 7 and I didn’t want to give up my nice dinner out. So we opted for dinner out (Ethiopian, my favorite) followed by Apple TV at home.

We watched Burn After Reading, which was OK but not great. It had a fairly messy plot involving a disgruntled ex-CIA agent, his unpleasant wife, her shifty married lover, his cheating wife and a couple of unbelievably stupid health club employees who stumble across a disk of somewhat classified information and think it would be a good idea to sell it to the Russians.

Why would they commit blatant treason, you ask? Well, you see, one of the stupid health club employees wanted plastic surgery and thought the Russians would give her money to pay for it. I kind of lost interest in the movie at this point because no one could possibly be so stupid - in fact, I spent the rest of the movie wondering if she should be shot for treason or stupidity.

Brad Pitt played the other stupid health club employee and when he unexpected gets his head blown off the movie loses what little spark it had until that point.

The best part was the final deadpan conversation between two CIA agents about the major screw up caused by all these idiots.

In the end, the treasonously stupid woman gets her plastic surgery paid for by the CIA to shut her up so there’s no poetic justice, either – believe me, you’re NOT routing for this moron, especially since she gets all her friends killed too in her single-minded quest for surgically enhanced beauty.

The End.