This weekend I skipped out on Sasquatch because I wanted to simply stay close to home and relax for a change. And that I did.
While I had company most of Friday, Saturday and Sunday, I held my own today. After a lazy morning around the apartment and a quick trip the gym, I went to Cafe Fiore and sat and read. I have not done so since my trip to Europe and can't remember the last time I had time to sit and read in Seattle.
Honestly, I thought it'd be a good exercise considering I start school in just a few weeks and needed to reaffirm that I could still read and comprehend.
I started John Seller's Perfect From Now On: How Indie Rock Saved My Life. The book was given to me by my boss this last Christmas. If David Sedaris were to write exclusively about his thoughts on pop music, rather than about his family and being gay, this would be the result. I would also describe it as the inner monologue of John Cusack's character in High Fidelity. You get the idea.
The usual byproduct of my reading is that I write more frequently, and thus here I am. (I wrote like a novelist in heat during my trip to Italy last Fall because I read like a mofo. You all dealt with the repercussions in my subsequent Paolo Does Europe series here.)
After spending an astonishing hour-and-a-half reading, I caught the new Indiana Jones flick at the local movie theater (I couldn't entertain myself for that long reading). I've actually seen the last several consecutive movies at this theatre alone, but I've also never considered movie-going much of a social activity.
To second Scott's opinion, the movie was better than critics made it out to be. It's consistent with past episodes in the series: Great characters combine with an unbelievable plot for a better-than-average, but not excellent, action movie. The whole alien storyline was a little too much for me, in particular. I suppose that's a spoiler, but really, what can you expect after Temple of Doom?
After the movie I went home to survey the evening's options. I found Moos still slaving away at studying for her real estate license. Katrine was not yet home from Sasquatch. I made a quick dinner -- baked eggplant and polenta with marinara sauce and three cheeses (Sorry kids, no food porn tonight) -- and then packed a bag to continue reading at Golden Gardens.
In Bellingham I had Lake Padden and Boulevard Park for recreation spots. In Seattle I've found the equivalent with Green Lake and Golden Gardens. The latter is totally underrated and is a big factor to why I think Ballard is the top borough. Sandy beaches, top-dollar view of the Olympics... What more can you ask for?
I continued the Sellers book for a few chapters at the beach and wrapped the evening back here at home recapping the long weekend with The Wives and now for you all.