Saturday, September 29, 2012

Weekend Edition

"Literature duplicates the experience of living in a way that nothing else can, drawing you so fully into another life that you temporarily forget you have one of your own. That is why you read it, and might even sit up in bed till early dawn, throwing your whole tomorrow out of whack, simply to find out what happens to some people who, you know perfectly well, are made up.”
~Barbara Kingsolver
Kingsolver, an author I've widely read and long admired (her book, Animal Dreams, remains on a top-twenty-five list I wrote myself, years ago) is talking about how it feels when you have a love affair with the book you're reading at the time. I can relate. I throw my tomorrow out of whack on a regular basis, far more than I care to admit, for my love of reading. (I will also admit this: I fell asleep last night, sitting up, book in my lap, in bed. Light on. I started awake about twenty minutes later and yes, I continued reading. Which was the chosen book? Anthony Bourdain's The Nasty Bits, a collection of essays expanding on themes he explored in Kitchen Confidential, snippets of life from his filming, on location worldwide of his tv show, No Reservations. It's not riveting fiction reading, but it's engaging in its collection of real-life travel experiences, ones that no tourist ever really gets to have. He also has an opinion on everything {I can relate} and he doesn't hold back on those opinions {noted}).
Just musing about this on a relaxing Saturday, after also reading a funny quote from Bridget Jones' Diary (circa 1996. If it was being written now, would it be "Bridget Jones' Blog"?) about how guilt-ridden she feels when she doesn't partake of London's myriad of 'cultural' experiences (aka tourist attractions), but instead, spends her time, in bars, 'enjoying herself". Can't say I blame you Bridge. Spending time with friends, away from the multitudes of slow-moving (and slower-witted) crowds, screaming kids, miserable families is nothing to be ashamed of.  Run. Just run.

I feel no guilt about doing exactly what I want to do with my weekends.
Neither should you.

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