Saturday, July 17, 2004

Anna Kournikova played tennis below my building today. I had half an urge to wait outside the court complex just to see her walk to her car -- and simultaneously realized the utter futility of it.

Plus, it just would have been too "stalker." I'm not a tennis fan, let alone a Kournikova devotee; I'm quite convinced my passing desire to catch a glimpse of her had a lot more to do with the sheer allure of fame than personal infatuation.

So I settled for coffee and book-browsing. My immediate "to-read" list (fiction):

1.) Blind Lake (Robert Charles Wilson)
2.) Picoverse (Robert A. Metzger)
3.) A Friend of the Earth (T.C. Boyle)
4.) The Number of Infinity (A.K. Zander)
5.) Gormenghast (Mervyn Peake)
6.) Crawlers (John Shirley)
7.) The Scar (China Mieville)
8.) The Wall (J.E. Hall)
9.) To Ride Hell's Chasm (Janny Wurts)

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