I've chosen to stay home tonight while the roommates are out having tapas and drinks because, frankly, I'm burnt out on going out. But I feel restless. And I have the munchies. I feel like I should write something for someone, but I have no idea what I would write or to whom I would write it.
Last night I saw No Country for Old Men. Yes, it was a good movie, but I didn't like it. I wasn't in the proper mental space to see anything so disturbing, so lacking in hope or justice or redemption. You might say that it is like real life, and I can't argue with that, but I prefer movies that are a little more optimistic and a little less unsentimental. The movie left me in despair and fear, and the solitary walk to the metro from my friend's house had never seemed so sinister. Luckily there were a bunch of loud, drunk teenagers on the metro that annoyed the shit out of me so the shadow of fear had departed by the time I got home.
On a more positive note, I've been emailing with Carlos the Amateur Cyclist and he's asked me out on a date. Woohoo! In all honesty I don't expect it to go anywhere--I've despaired of finding true romance in Madrid--but at the very least the excitement and anticipation will keep me entertained for a couple weeks. And I suppose it's even possible that the date might be fun and lead to a second date.
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