Sigh. Why do holiday weekends have to end? It always amazes me just how quickly they go by. One minute you're relishing the thought of four luxurious days where you seemingly have all the time in the world to do just about anything that tickles your fancy, and the next you're lamenting the cruel, hard fact that work/school/reality must set in in a mere 24 hours. Still, I can't really complain (but oh, how I love to do it), as these past few days have been wonderfully relaxing with a healthy dosage of good friends, good food and good wine, not to mention some quality 'me' time. I finally finished Mrs. Woolf & the Servants, which was an illuminating look not only at Virginia Woolf's relationships with her domestic staff, but also her relationship with food and her own body (i.e. she wasn't a big eater, something I cannot identify with at all). I even enjoyed my workout session with my trainer (can you imagine Virginia Woolf with a trainer?!). Yes, I have a trainer and I go to a gym. This coming from a girl whose athletic zenith in life was doing a hand stand in yoga...with the instructor's help, I hasten to add.
In the final moments of the long weekend, the boyfriend and I (or T, as I shall henceforth refer to him in this space, because I'm getting lazy in my old age) braved the strong winds that had been blowing through the west side all day, grabbed a warm drink (earl gray for him, soy latte for me) and headed out to the bluff in the Pacific Palisades where we took in the setting sun. Only about twenty other people had the same brilliant idea. So did a few dogs. And it was FREEZING and extremely windy, even more so on that bluff than anywhere else. So our romantic interlude lasted all of one minute, and as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, we scrambled out of there as fast as our legs could carry us.
Our legs carried us to Village Books in the palisades because I wanted to browse their selections, and I think T just wanted to get warm. I have to say that I really like this bookshop. It has a very cozy, neighborhood feel to it, and I like how the patrons all seem to know each other. Case in point: yesterday two men were talking very loudly in the shop about their houses and which architects they used and which homes they admire in the neighborhood, which would have been a fine conversation to overhear if it wasn't so suggestive of two grown men comparing body parts, if you know what I mean. It's the whole "my house is bigger than yours" mentality. Eventually, they graciously took the conversation outside, where they proceeded to talk at each other at exactly the same decibel. But apart from all that, I just like to give Village Books my business, especially in this day and age when Barnes & Noble and Borders loom on every corner, and Amazon is tantalizingly only a click away on the computer. So you can imagine my disappointment when I read that the shop is struggling a bit at the moment. Luckily, (or I should say hopefully), rescue came in the shape of one celebrity palisades resident and Village Books patron, Tom Hanks. I nearly whooped out loud for joy when I read about what he did for the shop. Which just seems so like him, too. I heart Tom Hanks and books and (hopefully) happy endings for book shop owners and extended weekends.
Oh, and for those who are interested, I ended up leaving Village Books with a copy of Michael Pollan's In Defense of Food, a book I've been meaning to read, and Barack Obama's The Audacity of Hope, because what better time to read the president-elect's latest book than the month of his presidential inauguration? In two weeks, people!