No, this is not a post about Houdini. His is forthcoming and of no interest to anyone but me, anyway. Well, this isn't of any interest to anyone, either, I suppose. Oh, whatever. Why do I have to explain the most pointless things in great detail and completely derail the flow of conversation, such as it were?
Things that I still take pleasure in and therefore mean life is not completely suck ass on every level:
- Right this minute: my weekend outfit, which is the most comfortable ensemble (snazzy word!) in the world. I am wearing a pair of tomato red cotton/spandex tracksuit pants (with the requisite white stripes down the side) that have a little flare at the bottom, coupled with a soft cotton black long-sleeved T-shirt. (My socks are one of the bazzillion striped cotton ones I own; that they're black and white and kind of match match was pretty much a conincidence). When we go out later on, I have my favourite black hoodie and my dark red, Skecher 'old school' sneakers to shield me from the elements (wind and rain, today).
The best part is that I think the whole getup, from head to toe, including the shoes, cost me under $50, because I bought most of the clothes from Target, on discounted sale, and the shoes from Marshalls (for under $20. I looked them up online and they were over $50 retail).
- Placing an order for the new Chalet School books, that will then arrive from England over the next couple of months. I've stopped feeling guilty over how much money I am spending on each single trade paperback, once postage and the crappy dollar to pound sterling conversion is taken into account. I don't care. I love seeing the new books being announced, e-mailing my resller in England to order, and then waiting for the book(s) to arrive. It'll even be better when, a few years from now, I can sit down and read the books.
- Finishing the book About A Boy and feeling that little pang you do when you know there aren't any more pages to go...and then you go back and start rereading all the best parts, which happen to be quite a lot, and laughing all over again.
I know Nick Hornby is not everyone's cup of tea and I don't particularly like how he depicts women (to be fair, I've only read this one book, even though I've seen both this and High Fidelity as a movie), and I think deep down he wants everyone to forgive men for being big babies, when they are being one, because they just can't help it, poor fellows. All that aside, I got a kick out of this book. I thought he got the bullying part spot on, especially how it is different in a school in London proper versus elsewhere. Will's thoughts about parents and even couples with no kids, from the perspective of someone who selfishly and deliberately (but knowingly and, in a way, honestly) disengages from any entanglements at the first whiff of it getting personal, wasn't too far off the mark, either. I know people like that. I was one of them.
The best--and also uneasiest--parts to read, for me, were about Fiona. She doesn't come off sounding daftly clueless like in the movie. Well, okay, she does, but it seems less eccentric somehow. Or less eccentric, as the story progresses. It's not really until the last few chapters of the book that you really understand why she feels the way she does--it's sort of hard to believe that the one thing that apparently makes up her world and spurs her on is the one thing that also drags her down. I don't know, maybe I am projecting too much, but when I saw the movie a few years ago, Fiona was just a roll-your-eyes-at-her, pushy, comic relief mom and now, reading the book a couple of years later after having had a child, she just seems really vulnerable to me.
Ummm, that's the most I've had to say about a book in a long time. Probably because other than this book, I've been reading mysteries and trashy books whose plots I can't remember a minute after I am done. Maybe if I read some more decent books, I'd stop fixating on a single one, so much.
- Back to the list: Wawa coffee on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Those are the days I work at the office, which means they're the days I get to drive by Wawa and grab a coffee and a cold soft pretzel for breakfast (which sometimes turns into lunch). I'm not a coffee snob the way I am a tea snob, and so Wawa coffee does just fine by me. I do think compared to the other options along the drive to work--Dunkin' Donuts and Starbucks--the coffee both tastes better and is definately easier on the wallet. I usually get a 24 oz cup, fill it with half Caramel/quarter Chocolate Macadamia/quarter Vanilla flavoured coffee, splash of skim milk and a packet of splenda (I told you I was not a coffee snob. True coffee drinkers everywhere who made it through reading the various flavours probably all gagged at the mention of Splenda!) It's not so much about the coffee as it is about knowing that on these days, I have this little ritual and I get to stand in line with other people and their little rituals and for a few minutes, maintain a sense of normalcy.
- Grey's Anatomy's new season. I still haven't watched the premiere, which I taped on Thursday. It's the only show I watched regularly last year, and I'm hoping I'll stay on top of it this year, although the switch in time and day means I'll never watch any episode as it's being aired, and that's usually the death knell of a show in our house. We're just not good with taping and watching later. I'm going to try, though, because I'd like to stay current on at least one popular show and its references in order not to be completely out of it when people talk about such things at work or elsewhere. It goes back to having that sense of normalcy, no matter how fleeting or unsubstantial it is.
Laundry ding. Now, that I don't take so much pleasure in, but it still remains my favourite chore that really isn't.
