Shit what be going down in my town.

It's been lovely to have a week off, have some time to myself without worrying about having to be at such and such a place at a certain time, or going to bed having finished one commitment knowing that things must be done in the morning. Ah no, not this week. Well, there were the assignments, but they're out of the way now. So what did I actually get up to, I ask myself. Only one day of work during the week, so four days of free bliss...

On Monday, I got up late and read a book. Actually, I didn't get up at all really. I sat in bed and read. And read and read and read... You are obviously not aware of how long it has been since I last did that, dedicating a whole day to reading, that is. A year? Two, perhaps? These days I rarely have a day off, so don't have time for these frivolities. And it was most joyous! Sitting in bed, sipping coffee and eating strepsils... just what I need really to recover from this vile illness that still grips me (though less tightly now). And the book I was reading? One Day, by David Nicholls.

I don't know whether to cringe or cry or what to do, now that I'm reading this book. Don't get me wrong, it's a real page turner, by the fact that once you pick it up you can't put it down until several chapters later. But the worst bit is the fact that it's soppy, sentimental and predictable, the typical sort of romantic story you would expect. It's the typical girl meets boy at college storyline, then they sort-of-but-not-quite hook up at graduation, and the story follows each of their lives as they grow up, realise how much they miss the other but it's never the right time as he is chasing supermodels/she just wants to stay friends to save herself heartbreak. It's written an interesting format: Nicholls only writes about one day a year for each of them (the anniversary of their graduation) for twenty years, leaving the reader to guess whatever the hell happens between one year and the next. And they even made a film of it.

Urgh,

I haven't seen this film, however, from what I hear, it is not worth watching. From the excerpts I've seen, I've deduced that Anne Hathaway is too thin to play "Emma", the leading lady, and that the book doesn't translate very well onto the screen. Yes, Mr Nicholls did make sure that he had a firm grip on the reigns of the screenplay script and everything, and from the one scene I saw, the dialogue was lifted straight from the book.  I think this was it:

"So anyway what I meant to say was sorry. For what I said--"

"When?"

"Back in the restaurant, for being a bit glib or whatever."

"S'alright. I'm used to it."

"And also to say I thought the same thing too. At the time. What I mean is that I liked you too, "romanically", I mean. I mean, I didn't write poems or anything, but I thought about you, think about you, you and me. I mean I fancy you."

"Really? Oh. Really? Right. Oh. Right."

"My problem is--" and he sighed and smiled with one side of his mouth. "Well, I suppose I pretty much fancy everybody!"

"I see," was all she could say.

"--anyone really, just walking down the street, it's like you said, everyone's my type. It's a nightmare!"

"Poor you," she said flatly.

... humorous on page, probably too cliché on film? Well, Miss Hathaway and the other dude don't really do it any justice. With this sort of thing, there are already too many films out there already on the same subject, similar storylines... what's the point in bringing another one out there? I guess the book is good because it's easy to read, plenty of dialogue to engage the brain and leave it wanting to know who said what next. But I don't think I like saying that I like it. It's a bit too soppy and such for me to really get away with it. 

A weighty tome.

However, I did spend a very nice day in bed, and would probably have read War and Peace had "One Day" not been left lying around.

Tuesday? I don't think that I achieved much. Housewife mode was engaged, and I cooked and cleaned and did little else. I would like to conclude part one here.