Calm down, my heart ... don't beat so fast

Am back from the end of the continent, richer by:

-One sunburn
-One bottle rosemary massage oil, acquired at pharmacy that sold many interesting powders with skulls on them
-One dozen or so enormous newspapers
-One really good travel mix CD made by gentleman-caller, and
-One unspeakable T-shirt.

A satisfactory haul. Last night I went dancing at The Dock with Dr. Mike, and we quite enjoyed ourselves - the DJ is mixing it up a lot more than he used to do at the Warehouse. Last night he had something off the new Covenant album and a bunch of stuff we didn't know but liked dancing to. And, of course, the classics; when he played Wolfsheim's "Once in a Lifetime," two tiny girls next to us just screamed and screamed and jumped up and down and up and down. It was adorable. "Kids!" I shouted at Dr. Mike. He gave me a look that clearly said "Were we ever that young?" Then we danced our bottoms off. Also, they were handing out CDs and stuffed Easter bunnies, which made good dancing accessories.

Anyway, today's books: Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman and The Prestige by Christopher Priest. I didn't set out to read Anansi Boys, but when I took it off the library shelf to read over lunch, of course it just sucked me in. Along the same lines as American Gods, but since he's just focusing on Anansi, the plot is much tighter. It's a very sweet family story of two feuding brothers who discover how alike they are. Plus everyone ends up with the right girl. (And it leaves one with the tendency to apply Neil Gaiman-esque chapter headings to everything that happens, such as "In which Emma sleeps twelve hours and must relearn how to walk.")

Interestingly, The Prestige (which I started last night) is also apparently about long-lost brothers who are really the same person, or something. It came highly recommended but a blurb on the back compares it to Robertson Davies, and a very long and uninteresting early segment is giving me major "Murther & Walking Spirits" flashbacks. Still, it's being made into a movie directed by Christopher Nolan, starring darling Christian Bale and (ready?) David Bowie as Nikola Tesla. So I hold out hope. Rosabel, believe.

Also, Mr. Priest appears to have written the novelization of David Cronenberg's film "eXistenZ," which is weird.