So I finally finished my re-reading of
American Gods. I'm not going to write a review of it because I did a whole "Neil Gaiman" thing when I first started this blog and I used the book as one of My Favorites on a Thursday when I still had time to participate in all those memes. If you'd like to go back and read those you can
here and
here. I will say that the second reading lived up to my memory. It is still a wonderful book! I was afraid I might remember it as so wonderful because it was the first book by Neil Gaiman I had read and I read it at a very stressful time in my life, but it was still a wonderful, amazing book.
Now I have moved on to
Mystic River. I started this book this summer but didn't get past the first chapter because I started reading something else that I thought would be more interesting. I don't even remember what that was now, so I guess it wasn't! I saw the movie several years ago when it came out but all I remember is the missing girl and the ending, so I don't think it'll be too spoiled for me! Just now, as I was eating dinner and reading I came across a passage that struck me as hilarious and I wanted to share:
Once a month, Celeste and three of her coworkers at Ozma's Hair Design got together at Dave and Celeste Boyle's apartment to read one another's tarot cards, drink a lot of wine, and cook something they'd never tried before. They capped off the evening by watching some chick movie that was usually about some driven but lonely career woman who found true love and big dick with some baggy-balled old cowhand, or else it was about two chicks who discovered the meaning of womanhood and the true depths of their friendship just before one of them caught some long-ass illness in the third act, died all beautiful and perfectly coifed on a bed the size of Peru.
Isn't that just how men see chick-flicks?
