We didn't do anything out of this world, just went to this restaurant in Pembroke Pines called The Pub. It's done in the style of a traditional English pub, everything from the decorations to the menu. We were a group of maybe 8 or 10, so they sat us at their largest table. This table doesn't have chairs at the head, it has thrones. I kid you not. Here's the boyf sitting kingly on his throne:
And in this next picture, it's Tony's lovely wife Sheri and me. Please ignore the horrible shine on my face. It was very humid!
There are a few more pictures on my Facebook, if you've added me there. Look for the most recent album.
So that was Saturday. Sunday, I hung out with the boyf and spent a lot of the day reading. My department head lent me this book by Ian McEwan called The Comfort of Strangers. It's about this British couple who travel to Italy and meet a enigmatic (read: creepy) Italian man who insists on shepherding them around Venice. I won't say much else because I don't want to ruin it, but it is one of the most disturbing books I've ever read. McEwan is no doubt a brilliant writer -- I loved Atonement. But so much of his writing hinges on one pivotal moment that changes EVERYTHING in the narrative, and it just so happens that that moment in The Comfort of Strangers is so haunting that it takes a truly unique mind to come up with something like that. I wound up reading it in one day because I simply had to know what happened next. And the story has stayed with me all week, dogging my thoughts.
In case I haven't turned you off the book completely, and if you're still curious to read it, you can preview the first few pages of the book here. My department head lent me another McEwan book today, Black Dogs. I'll let you know how that is.
But I'm not going to read it just yet. First things first -- to the movies! I want to see "Up" tonight, and I know tomorrow the boyf is going to want to drag me to see "Drag Me to Hell." Blech. I don't like scary movies. I may have to employ the use of a blindfold. You know, to ward off the intensely scary parts.
On Sunday I'm going to a co-worker's baby shower at Macaroni Grill. Yum. So yeah, it's a busy weekend. But I'll live. And the best thing is that there are only four days left of school! And the worst thing is there are only four days left with my students ... some of whom probably won't even show all next week. I will miss this year's batch of kidlets. (Sniff, sniff.)
But I won't miss Mount Everest. It has been demolished! I have absolutely no grading to do this weekend, which has me feeling a bit out of sorts. I keep looking out of the corner of my eye to see if the pile of unchecked papers is still there, and I can't help but feel shocked every time I see that it's gone.
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