It was a pissy, rainy, cold, and gloomy weekend. Everything was gray and wet. The sun didn't even make an effort to come out of the clouds. Breath condensed. Just the kind of weather that depresses M. It made me want to burst into tears as well.
The rain ruined my plan of going to the Chicago Botanic Garden. I went to the mall instead. Northbrook mall is a fairly large, upmarket mall just about 1.5 miles from the hotel. Very unlike its namesake in Peoria.
Anyhoo, the plan was to stay AWAY from the shops and watch a movie at the amc attached to the mall. Both plans went quite awry.
Well, although I stopped before the "Date Night" poster (Steve Carell, Tina Fey), I chose to watch "Back Up Plan" instead. I like J Lo, so shoot me. I should've read the reviews, but I didn't, and put my blind faith in Good Movie Fairies. Alas, they didn't come through for me this time. The opening animation as the credits rolled should've been enough for me to walk out. But I didn't. I stayed. And endured.
Then I walked into the mall, which was the unraveling of Part II of my plan. But here's the deal. I had had left my old pair of walking shoes in Mumbai because I didn't have enough room in my bags. They were my trusty old pair, companion on many an adventure, and had at least 200 miles on them. I had left them with a pang, sure that nothing, but NOTHING would ever replace them.
And as I walk out of amc into the mall, what is the first thing I see? A shop called "The Walking Company". I hear the siren song. There is a rush in my ears. I walk in dazed. And lo and behold, under a single spot light (it seemed to me) were this pair which I am sure is the second coming of my old shoes. Reborn. Waiting for me. I pick up and tried them on. They fit my feet as if they were never away. No bites. No blisters. So what if they cost 120 USD?
Sunday was gloomier than Saturday but I was itching to try my new shoes on. So I walked over to the Deerfield Mall which is about 250 yards from the hotel. It is a gigantic strip mall, the kind you see in those road or indie movies. Totally lacking in character or cheer. The type of mall where the female shop assistants have pancake makeup on and the boys are surly and uncommunicative. The kind of mall where there are those nail places with garish neon signs and manned by Hispanics. The sort of mall that wears the war wounds of economic slowdown in the form of empty shop spaces with sad little notices on the window saying "shop space for lease".
I found Baja Fresh there. For the uninitiated, it is a national Mexican fast food chain. When I was in LA in 2003, we used to frequent the place quite often. I had not found them ever since, so I walked in driven by nostalgia. Predictably, there were two Indian families. You know the type. Why do some Indians think that eating out at a fast food place is dining out? There were a couple of Mexicans. Some of the tables were not cleaned. The Quesadilla had nothing but cheese and chicken in it. The big hombre from the kitchen decided to hang around and stare at me. Sigh. Memories shouldn't be meddled with by trying them out in reality.
I watched two beautiful movies on Netflix: One is "Peggy Sue Got Married" - a small, warm movie from Francis Ford Coppola, full of little moments and great acting by Kathleen Turner and Nick Cage. The other is "What is Eating Gilbert Grape?" - a sweet, sometimes poignant movie directed by Lasse Hallstrom with a sweet tender performance from Johnny Depp and a brilliant portrayal of a mentally retarded boy by Di Caprio. Highly recommended, if you haven't watched them already.
Hopefully it warms up in the next week.
The rain ruined my plan of going to the Chicago Botanic Garden. I went to the mall instead. Northbrook mall is a fairly large, upmarket mall just about 1.5 miles from the hotel. Very unlike its namesake in Peoria.
Anyhoo, the plan was to stay AWAY from the shops and watch a movie at the amc attached to the mall. Both plans went quite awry.
Well, although I stopped before the "Date Night" poster (Steve Carell, Tina Fey), I chose to watch "Back Up Plan" instead. I like J Lo, so shoot me. I should've read the reviews, but I didn't, and put my blind faith in Good Movie Fairies. Alas, they didn't come through for me this time. The opening animation as the credits rolled should've been enough for me to walk out. But I didn't. I stayed. And endured.
Then I walked into the mall, which was the unraveling of Part II of my plan. But here's the deal. I had had left my old pair of walking shoes in Mumbai because I didn't have enough room in my bags. They were my trusty old pair, companion on many an adventure, and had at least 200 miles on them. I had left them with a pang, sure that nothing, but NOTHING would ever replace them.
And as I walk out of amc into the mall, what is the first thing I see? A shop called "The Walking Company". I hear the siren song. There is a rush in my ears. I walk in dazed. And lo and behold, under a single spot light (it seemed to me) were this pair which I am sure is the second coming of my old shoes. Reborn. Waiting for me. I pick up and tried them on. They fit my feet as if they were never away. No bites. No blisters. So what if they cost 120 USD?
Sunday was gloomier than Saturday but I was itching to try my new shoes on. So I walked over to the Deerfield Mall which is about 250 yards from the hotel. It is a gigantic strip mall, the kind you see in those road or indie movies. Totally lacking in character or cheer. The type of mall where the female shop assistants have pancake makeup on and the boys are surly and uncommunicative. The kind of mall where there are those nail places with garish neon signs and manned by Hispanics. The sort of mall that wears the war wounds of economic slowdown in the form of empty shop spaces with sad little notices on the window saying "shop space for lease".
I found Baja Fresh there. For the uninitiated, it is a national Mexican fast food chain. When I was in LA in 2003, we used to frequent the place quite often. I had not found them ever since, so I walked in driven by nostalgia. Predictably, there were two Indian families. You know the type. Why do some Indians think that eating out at a fast food place is dining out? There were a couple of Mexicans. Some of the tables were not cleaned. The Quesadilla had nothing but cheese and chicken in it. The big hombre from the kitchen decided to hang around and stare at me. Sigh. Memories shouldn't be meddled with by trying them out in reality.
I watched two beautiful movies on Netflix: One is "Peggy Sue Got Married" - a small, warm movie from Francis Ford Coppola, full of little moments and great acting by Kathleen Turner and Nick Cage. The other is "What is Eating Gilbert Grape?" - a sweet, sometimes poignant movie directed by Lasse Hallstrom with a sweet tender performance from Johnny Depp and a brilliant portrayal of a mentally retarded boy by Di Caprio. Highly recommended, if you haven't watched them already.
Hopefully it warms up in the next week.
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