After having worked all these years, i figure that Saturday and Sunday have been redefined for me - any weekend that does not involve work is a relaxed weekend. Even if it means that i end up doing long-pending personal chores. Which i didn't this weekend; rather, i ended up doing some good reading and movie-watching.
Let's call the book reading a Neil Gaiman Dash. Late Friday night, i finished American Gods and then got on to Anansi Boys. Somewhere in the middle of the latter, i figured that i knew who Anansi was because i had a storybook on the spider in my childhood days. Surprising for one so petrified of the Arachnids, but there you go. And i also distinctly remember being besotted with reading the story again and again. So that memory somehow brought the book closer to me. Good reads, both. Anansi Boys more so, because it does have its dose of humour and (Forgive me Mister Gaiman) chick-flickness. The problem though, is that if you've just finished reading a book of his like American Gods, it gets a little hard to shift gear (see, i'm finally driving) and see him in the sort of light that Anansi Boys is cast in. (In short, it's a little difficult to not take Anansi Boys as another piece of sci-fi mind boggler, even if it is more to do with mythology and stuff.)
Then, when i was done with the two, i flipped over to something flippant like a floosy Mills & Boons about a filthy rich female forlorn in a ferocious forest full of furry grizzlies, and how she finds someone frikking hottie in the middle of nowhere to take her under his roof. That done, i got bored and switched over to television.
I managed to catch the last bits of Sweet Home Alabama and caught sight of the extremely good-looking Josh Lucas. Ooooh, he's hot. Then i watched Juno. Nice movie, although i don't see why everybody was raving about it so much. I mean, yeah, it would have been melodramatic if they had shown Juno's parents hitting her and cursing her and asking God to take her away - or her walking in the rain and trying to kill herself and all that - typical Bollywood style, but then underplaying all of that so much just killed the reality of it for me.
Oh, and then on Saturday night N and I braved the mall crowds to go watch a movie in a theatre (because i haven't been to one in the longest time), only to find that we had:
a) Missed a show by half an hour
b) No movie screening for the next one and a half hours or
c) No movie screening for the next one and a half hours that we wanted to watch.
So quietly, we went to Allianz and had some terrible Ginger Tea, saw a very average Photography Exhibition and then headed home to pick up DVDs so we could watch anything we wanted.
We watched Choke. And we almost choked ourselves to death. I also sort of arrived at certain conclusions about Chuck Palahniuk and his writing: he's like Whiskey - you need to develop a taste for it before you can enjoy it, and i certainly haven't reached the enjoyment stage with either. As for his writing, well, i found it easier to watch the book-turned-movie first and then read his movie-turned-book. It increases comprehension levels about what he's saying, greatly. (Or maybe i'm the only loser that thinks this way.) Which doesn't go to say that i read Choke - no Siree, i didn't. Like reading an M&B, i let my eyes rove over the juicy parts and skim through the rest. And what i roved over, i didn't like. So obviously i missed the whole story (unlike an M&B).
So yeah, this weekend like i said was pretty chilled out. No stress. No commotion. A little heartburn, but that i can live with. Four more days of this sort of chilledness and i would have started-finished Shantaram. A book that i have been preciously saving up for the last two years so it can be perfect beachbum fodder when i take that extended vacation to an under-populated beach with gently swaying palm trees and clear blue waters that are not too deep.
Ah... i can taste the sea on my tongue already.
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