Mmm, weekend was relatively excellent in spite of not being spent in Bombay. One is almost reconciled to the lack of a Garcia’s or a Smokin’ Joe’s or hell, an Udipi that sells Indian pizza in Hyderabad, when Pizza Hut makes an eat-all-you-can offer. After all, floury, fermented pizza is still way better than no pizza. Especially when it leaves you enough money to buy jeera rice from the corner biryani shop, and milk for next morning's coffee.
Ramzan speshuls are love. Wish Music World had something similar going on. They didn’t have Pirates of the Caribbean which I went looking for since, like Blackadder, it happens to be one of my life-staples. There was, however, a deluxe edition of the complete BBC recordings of Pride and Prejudice. Now abashed though I am to admit that I am not a screaming Colin Firth fangirl, I might even have bought it, were it not for the fact that I’m currently re-reading Middlemarch. Who needs snark and ten thousand a year when you can have the delectable Will Ladislaw?
(Well, eventually everyone does. As more than one wise person has told me, the good thing about literature is that you never need pick just one hot book-crush; you can have them all.)
I also watched Flavors, which helped pass two hours very tolerably, and finished the very harrowing Birdsong. I’ve had an intense few days of reading World War I novels, what with the massive and angry Birds Without Wings I raced through before I went to Bombay.
Weekend was complete with hysterical and raucous readings of Catullus, who has got to be the dirtiest poet dead or alive.
Endnotes: Have a lovely art nouveau portrait of Madeleine Peyroux.
And happy birthday for yesterday to mah Viv-boy. *strings up balloons and streamers* Did you know you shared a birthday with Oscar Wilde?
*uses excuse to add pictures of Johnny Depp to the decorations*
current musix: miles davis - charlie's wig