Indoor Friend

Lately a lot of my friends have really gotten into outdoorsy things, like hiking and camping and kayaking. They look at me with pleading eyes, and in soothing wistful tones they say things like, "Heeaaather, why won't you come camping with us? It is sooooo much fun!" And as much as I love the idea of sitting around a campfire sharing a bottle of whiskey with a group of people and "accidentally" sharing a sleeping bag with a stranger and having a rollicking good time, I have to decline.

I am not an outdoorsy friend. I am an indoor friend. And there are 3 big reasons for this.

Reason #1 The Blair Witch Project. Yeah you go right ahead and laugh, roll your eyes and say this is the dumbest movie you ever saw and the only thing it left you with was a good case of motion sickness. I say to you, oh doubters, that Stephen King, that master of horror himself, thinks this one is a scary movie.

Reason #2 primitive and/or nonexistent restrooms. Ha ha. Forget it. I like the ability to flush.

Reason #3

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! WILDLIFE!

This is on my back door (on the outside thank god or I'd be calling somebody big and not afraid of bugs) right now EVEN AS I TYPE. Praying Mantis! Some of the cruelest predators in the world- I'm not kidding. Google it! And look at the shear SIZE of this dude!He's the length of my FINGER.

If that's not enough to make you run indoors like a scared 6 year old, this is the best picture I could get of the spider living next to my front door last week (there was no way in hell I was getting too close- its body is the size of the end of my thumb). It mysteriously disappeared (SHIVERS) and I have since swathed that entire area in about 5 lbs of insecticide.
As usual, feel free to click those pictures to make them bigger! See you at the hotel!

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

This was a good movie- I saw it a couple of weeks ago (FINALLY!) and my favorite part was the letter that Benjamin wrote to his daughter. It's a little weird that this is my favorite part considering the movie is beautiful and New Orleans provides an amazing background and the acting is great and Brad Pitt is soooo stunning when, you know, he's Brad Pitt and the right age and stuff. But it's such a great quote, and I want to write it out and put it up all over my apartment and office and car... when I find a quote I like I tend to get a little carried away.

So for now I'll just put it on my blog. It's a lot less cluttery that way.

"For what it's worth: it's never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There's no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you're proud of. If you find that you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again. "

There are no rules to this thing. That's always worth remembering, isn't it?

Fat

Note: please click the links to get the pics. They're copyrighted like crazy, so click over and come back please. Thank you!

Fat fat fat fat fat fat fat. Does that word make you uncomfortable? If you are like, oh, 95% of women and probably something like 80% of men, I'm going to guess YES IT DOES. WHY?

Faaaaaaaaat.

For pretty much all of my life I've been described as "fat", "heavy", "chunky", "pudgy", "chubby", "plump" (well not really, that word is just fun to say), a "big girl", an "amazon", and loads and loads of other things. They're not all entirely negative (For instance, Amazon to me says powerful. Or a book seller.), but they're not exactly positive either. All it takes is one comment that wasn't thought through or was taken out of context and the hurting begins.

It seems like lately fat is everywhere.

Today my sister sent me this article from Health Day because she thought the headline was pretty funny. But it says that the bigger people are, the faster they lose brain tissue. I don't know what the point of the article is really, except to put another scary spin on how awful your life will be if you are fat with your increased chances for type 2 diabetes, heart disease, cancer, and now dementia.

PETA, in their infinite wisdom, put up this incredibly offensive ad in Florida. Read the article. It says what I want to say. Then they took that ad down and put up this one, which is just even more infuriating and smug. I never did like PETA anyway.

The thing is, and even the Healthy Day article says it, 66% of adult Americans are overweight or obese. 2 out of 3. Think about that for a minute, because this other article from Newsweek (a really really good one) has something to say about that. The labels of lazy, undisciplined, lacking willpower, and disgusting are used (as quotes, the author isn't saying that) to describe the overweight nominee for surgeon general (and I don't know about you, but 4 out of my 5 doctors are overweight), and past presidents, and others. What is the DEAL with this? Why the negativity and hatred? In general people aren't allowed to bash others on the basis of age or race or sex or sexual orientation or a slew of other defining attributes, but fat is still okay to hate. Is it really, as the Newsweek article points out, that:

Fatness has always been seen as a slight on the American character. Ours is a nation that values hard work and discipline, and it's hard for us to accept that weight could be not just a struggle of will, even when the bulk of the research—and often our own personal experience—shows that the factors leading to weight gain are much more than just simple gluttony. "There's this general perception that weight can be controlled if you have enough willpower, that it's just about calories in and calories out," says Dr. Glen Gaesser, professor of exercise and wellness at Arizona State University and author of BigFat Lies: The Truth About Your Weight and Your Health, and that perception leads the nonfat to believe that the overweight are not just unhealthy, but weak and lazy. Even though research suggests that there is a genetic propensity for obesity, and even though some obese people are technically healthier than their skinnier counterparts, the perception remains "[that] it's a failure to control ourselves. It violates everything we have learned about self control from a very young age," says Gaesser.

It goes on to say:

So why don't we have more compassion for people struggling to lose the first 50, 60, or 100? Some of it has to do with the psychological phenomenon known as the fundamental attribution error, a basic belief that whatever problems befall us personally are the result of difficult circumstances, while the same problems in other people are the result of their bad choices. Miss a goal at work? It's because the vendor was unreliable, and because your manager isn't giving you enough support, and because the power outage last week cut into premium sales time. That jerk next to you? He blew his quota because he's a bad planner, and because he spent too much time taking personal calls.

I think that sums things up really nicely. When you see a person who is overweight are you reminded of your own shortcomings (or large-comings) and feel so guilty and ashamed that you can't even be civil? Is it a form self-hatred to lash out at those who share the traits you like least about yourself? Is it really about losing control? We are a society filled with control freaks.

I was a little late to this party, but there was a picture of a woman in Glamour that has caused quite a stir. Go look at the picture. Shoo! Go go! Okay, I'm glad your back. Isn't she gorgeous? Well with all the hoopla going on about this photo you would think that she's a goddess sent down to earth from heaven. Women are celebrating in the streets, aside from a few haters. This woman is technically a plus sized model (at a size 12, puh-lease), and she's beautiful. She looks healthy instead of emaciated. She has some flesh on her bones instead of just bones. She looks, well, normal. (Although there is no way in hell that anyone could ever call her fat for having a stomach "roll" when she sits down.) People are really REALLY riled up over this, the comments get pretty catty. Why?

Because people aren't comfortable with their bodies. I read somewhere (An old Susan Powter book maybe? Don't laugh!) that a woman who is 120 lbs and feels fat and a woman who is 220 lbs and feels fat are feeling the same things. It doesn't matter if you are "technically" obese or overweight or underweight or normal. If you feel like your body is too big (or too small) you are going to feel it just as passionately if you need (or want) to lose 10 lbs or 100. You'll feel like things are out of control and you'll be frustrated and going through the same emotions at any weight, no matter what weight, if you are not comfortable.

Bodies are tough to deal with. We are stuck with them, good or bad, because they are us. There is such a disconnect there. You can get out of a bad marriage or a bad job. You can really control external factors. But it takes a lot of work to change bodies and minds and habits and ideas. And the notion of being IN CONTROL vs OUT OF CONTROL seems to be an all or nothing prospect. Either we have everything totally in check (diet diet diet, abstain abstain abstain) or we're going crazy (binge eat, binge drink, where is my cocaine again?), and the only way to really find the middle of the road is to get to the dreaded "lifestyle change".

Boy is that rough, right? I myself have been going through a major lifestyle change over the last few months, and it is HARD. It is the hardest thing to do. If dieting or lifestyle adjusting or reducing or whatever you want to call it was just a matter of science, things would be EASY. But it isn't, is it? There are so many psychological factors tied up in self esteem and self confidence and body image and weight, like fear and insecurity and shame and guilt and anger and sadness and loneliness and a whole host of similar words that make your stomach drop. Stress, hormones, comfort any way you can get it (drugs, alcohol, food, sex) will all screw with your head. I'm not saying that this makes you fat, but it sure can't help the brain chemicals and body functions that are involved in the process. And don't even get me started on the genetic components. The odds are not good if you have overweight parents.

I was very angry earlier this week, and it was all tied to body image. And I was ready to sit down with a gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream and eat my feelings. Instead I went to the gym and channeled some rage. This is maybe the 8th time in 3 months that I've been in that place and have replaced eating with another activity. And I am proud of myself for that because it is all part of the "LIFESTYLE CHANGE" that everyone talks about like it's just a matter of replacing a burger with a grilled chicken breast and skipping right along like nothing has changed.

It all changes. It all can change. And we don't have to hate people who have a body that is different from what is "average" or "normal". ("Skinny bitch" and "Fat cow" really aren't helping anybody.) Why do other people think it is okay to be mean to somebody, anybody, who is different from them (or not even different from them, but different from what is "acceptable") for any reason? This attitude has to change. The majority of Americans are fat anyway, so let's stop hating ourselves so that we can stop hating others. I know, it sounds so zen. But seriously if we don't stir up a little compassion now, how will there be any compassion for anyone later?

PS For those who like to hide behind the excuse that you are "concerned about the health risks of being overweight" I am calling bullshit right now. Being unhealthy is not something you can judge at a glance. Some people are overweight and workout every day and eat healthy foods and genetically things look good. They have none of the risk factors that are often associated with carrying extra pounds. Some people are thin and don't take care of themselves, but their bodies process fat better so they look healthy on the outside. And only a person (at any weight) and their doctor will know if they are overweight and unhealthy or overweight and perfectly healthy. So, before you start whining about health care and taxes and taking care of people who could "do something about it" remember that there are lots of people out there who are bigger than you and also healthier than you. There are lots of things your tax dollars go to. Quit being so callous.

8/27/09 I had to edit this post - last night I wasn't so on the ball with the proof reading and I had listed 66% as being 1 in 3. CRINGE! Nice going Heather!

Boscos- Hillsboro Village

I decided that since I've been going to so many new (to me) restaurants and places lately, I should start writing about them. Then I will remember where I went and if I liked it and what the food was like. Also, I've decided that I should become just as self important and self involved as the Julie character in Julie & Julia, and as I blog about all of this local Nashville stuff I can read a biography about a local personality, say Andrew Jackson, and pretend that we're having conversations and then write a book about my experiences. Wait, no, that might get a little awkward.
Me: Soooo... slaves on the plantation eh? How's that working out for you?
AJ: Wait, back up, women can VOTE?

(Sidenote: was anyone else sort of bugged by the fact that Julie kept hitting the "enter" key to publish a blog post? Wouldn't that just bump you down a line? Don't you have to click "Publish" or something along those lines? I haven't used anything other than blogger, so maybe I'm just not that experienced with this here BLOOOOOGGGG stuff. I always get hung up on the details.)

SO, anyway, last night I went to Boscos in Hillsboro Village to meet some friends and talk about "Queen of the Turtle Derby" by Julia Reed. I'd never been before, and my overall impression was that the place was LOUD. Like loud-bar loud. I think there was some sort of mixer going on in the bar area, but really the place was not conducive to conversation. And that's hard when you have a group of 7 people trying to swap opinions about a book, or anything at all. (The book is pretty funny by the way, it's about growing up in the South and the "Southern Experience" and if you enjoy the short story format you should go read it. Well, finish reading this first because I'm trying out this whole self-involved self-important thing.) The service at Boscos left a lot to be desired. That could just be the waitress we had, and not the staff as a whole. Although I've noticed that this type of place likes for you to linger and drink, so perhaps I was just impatient.

Boscos is a beer place, and their beer was delicious. I had the Isle of Skye (which the waitress told me would make me "hate Guinness forever"), and it was a good dark beer which was slightly lighter than Guinness but more flavorful. I heard from people at the table that the pizza was delicious but I had the steak sandwich which was FANTASTIC. In my experience when you get a steak sandwich at most restaurants you hardly ever see really good quality steak in it, like cooks think all of the other flavors will cover up the fact that you're eating shoe leather. But this was a ribeye steak cooked to order, then put on sourdough with shoestring onions and a sauce that just made the sandwich sing. Was it healthy? No. But the steak was tender and that sandwich was awesome. I want another one. And another of those Isle of Skye beers. YUM. (I took half of my sandwich home and had it for dinner tonight and it tasted just as good as it was yesterday.)

I really like Hillsboro Village and it's an area that I always mean to go wander around in on a Saturday afternoon and it just hasn't happened. They have funky clothing stores and a furniture store and a used bookstore and a really good coffee shop. And the Belcourt Theater, which I also haven't been to yet. I need to get out more!

Kitchen-ness

I realized today that I do not own any mixing bowls. I own plenty of really pretty pottery serving bowls, and a couple of aluminum bowls, but nothing that I could use to mix up muffins (or crepes or cakes or pancakes or... you get the idea, I'll stop now). I needed plastic that I could really abuse. Since forever I have been using either my nice serving bowls or cereal bowls to mix stuff up in. Did this make sense? NO, I like to cook. I needed some bowls.

So tonight after work I wandered over to the TJMaxx Homegoods store, and spent a huge chunk of time in there. (And this was after I spent another huge chunk of time in some craaaaaazzzzy traffic backup on I-40. What the heck was that about? I know the Wilson County Fair is this weekend, but surely that did not cause traffic to back up for miles and miles on a Friday night. I am stumped. Flummoxed.) I found a colander (red metal), two sets of glasses that I liked (heavy in the hand, simple lines), and a 6 piece set of melamine mixing bowls. I got in line and just felt blah about all of it. You can't get out of line at that TJ Maxx, so I had to wait until I was first and then take off. I put everything back and went to Kroger for some Coke Zero. (To use as a mixer with brandy I recently acquired- you can never be too prepared girlscouts!)

So while I was there I thought I might as well take a peek at the kitchen utensil section and see what they had. And do you know what I found? A set of 3 melamine mixing bowls, with non-skid bottoms. They had taller sides and better colors than the bowls at the Homegoods store, and they were the same price. The lesson here is: never settle. I should just stop shopping at discount stores completely, what I get there (with the exception of bedding) is never quite exactly what I want and then I'm stuck with whatever it was, and I feel guilty about buying it until I get rid of it.

Anyway, the purchase of 3 bowls has inspired a lot of kitchen rearranging, or maybe just weeding out what I don't use that much and packing it away on a back shelf in the pantry. I didn't need a set of 6 bowls when what I am really trying to do is pare down how much STUFF there is.

I think I need to break the bowls in tomorrow. Popovers anyone?

Summer

This summer I haven't been much in the writing/blogging mood.

So here is a little series of mini-topics, none of which constitute a real post on their own:

The costumes in Julie & Julia. This might be a little difficult because I can't find any pictures of Meryl Streep's costumes and I thought they were fantastic. The dresses! The stripes! The broaches! The hats! The shoes! I was totally distracted by her clothes, especially during the parts set in Paris. And I'm beginning to think I am the only person on the planet who thought they were worth noticing. How is that possible? (Now that I've looked it up and discovered that Ann Roth did the costumes, it all makes sense. She did the costumes for The Hours and The Village and Angels in America and The Talented Mr. Ripley and The English Patient- and loads and loads of other fantastic films that I have also admired for their costumes. Not to mention a ton of Meryl Streep movies. I get it now!)

Last night at Costco I bought a box of plums. They are perfect- sweet and so juicy that I have to eat them over the sink. Of course, now I have to figure out what the hell you do with 5 lbs of plums... (Well, 4 1/4 lbs now.) Stupid Costco.

I went to Ulta yesterday and got a mini-haul of goodies that I have been wanting to try:

• NYX lip glosses in Smoky Look- which is a peachy pink, and Copper Penny, which is a coppery pink. They are awesome. The MAC Lipglasses are usually too sticky for my liking, and the Avon glosses are a little too dry in texture, but the NYX ones are juuuuuust right. That's right, I am the Goldilocks of lip gloss.
• NYX eyeshadow trio in really neutral browns. They seem a little powdery but the color payoff is good over Urban Decay Primer Potion.
• Too Faced Shadow Insurance- a primer that is pretty much the same as Urban Decay Primer Potion (which I'm almost out of, after slicing open the tube and scooping it all into little jars), but it comes in a toothpaste type tube so I don't have to risk my fingers getting to all of the product left in the poorly designed UDPP container.
• Solar Balm- for my cuticles. Nice texture, sinks in fast. Smells like marzipan thanks to the almond oil. I love this.
• Essie nail polish in Swept Off My Feet. This is a gorgeous muted rose red/pink, creamy strawberry color. I put it on last night with Seche Vite topcoat and so far no chips. Really good, considering how hard I am on my fingernails. And it makes my hands look REALLY good. Today someone called my nails "fabulous". MY NAILS. This is good stuff! It's the first Essie polish I've tried, and I think I see what all the fuss is about. Good brush and good formula.
  

A couple of weeks ago my friends and I were roaming through Dillard's, and the lady at the perfume counter gave each of us enough samples for an army of fragrance obsessed, um, people. (That analogy really seemed to be going somewhere. It did not.) My favorite so far has been Hanae Mori Butterfly, which is packed full of all sorts of different oils that dry down to a really lovely musky powdery floral and I should just tape my wrist to my nose. At first I thought it was exactly the same as my Burberry Brit, but I realize now it is plenty different, although this has helped me figure out how to make Brit more subtle. Brit sort of knocks me over the head and I find it hard to wear. Since they are rather similar at first, I'm going to have to use up the Brit before I even THINK about purchasing Butterfly. Other samples we got: Hanae Mori Magical Moon, Queen by Queen Latifah, Fancy Love by Jessica Simpson (ewwwww, so not my sort of fragrance), True Religion, and Beachy and Squeeze by Lilly Pulitzer. Beachy is a little manly, but Squeeeze is really nice, although both of them seem like something you'd pick up at Bath and Body Works and use for a season and then throw away. Sort of generic. Lately my favorite has been Stella by Stella McCartney, and I have learned that I should never ever buy full bottles of perfume, just the little roll-ons. I have yet to use one of those up.

I found out the other day that Lost is available for instant viewing on Netflix, and I have been watching that like crazy. Especially last week since I had bronchitis and all I could do was sit around and cough and be tired and miserable. I'm in the middle of the second season and the show has sort of lost it's ooomph. But the drugs have worn off too, so maybe it's not quite as good as I thought it was. Before Lost I watched the only two seasons ever made of Dead Like Me, and I ADORED that show. I also flew through season 2 of Mad Men, and I am still devoted to that show too. I'm not going to get into the costumes for the umpteenmillionth time, but they are still impeccable.

I know it sounds like I am watching tons of TV, but I'm not. I'm not watching anything on actual networks right now, and I haven't been in a movie mood. I've been trying to get the first disc of The Sopranos from Netflix and they have bumped me not one, not two, not three but FOUR times thanks to a "short wait". I'm getting tired of that!

So those are my little updates. I will try to get more organized about blogging, but as far as I am concerned it is still summer until my trip to DC over Labor Day. So I guess what I'm trying to say is, I love you all, but don't hold your breath.

Numbers

A month ago (ALREADY?) my mom and I drove over to Plimoth Plantation to see how everybody lived almost 400 years ago when those pesky English people decided to settle in the New World. It was really interesting and totally worth the trip. You watch a little video about the pilgrims and the Indians, and then you take a little walk to the Indian Village. I mean the Wampanoag Homesite. Okay, this is going to sound so not politically correct, but Plimoth Plantation makes a really big deal out of cultural sensitivity. And it just sort of cracked me up, I was so sure I was going to say something totally insensitive to some Native American person and then I was thinking maybe the Plimoth Police were going to get me and drag me to an underground bunker and force me to watch videos about racism and ethnicity and tolerance in America.

Turns out we went on a day when the weather really wasn't so pretty (at one point mom and I walked out of a house and suddenly it was really foggy and thundering everywhere), so Plimoth (this is their spelling, not mine) was a ghost town. We went into the one hut (shack? building? house?) that had anything going on. The woman in there was trying to build a fire and WOW was she in a bad mood. Somebody remarked that it was really smokey and the kids were trying to be all perky and interested (and CLEARLY had some serious lessons in cultural sensitivity prior to coming anywhere near the Wampanoag Homesite, they probably thought that woman was going to kill them if they weren't super polite- they might not have been wrong), asking questions about everything in the place, while she was trying to get her fire going on a damp dirt floor. When that family left she started in about how if you don't like the smoke in her place you can just LEAVE. Well that was pretty hilarious to me and I was thinking oh wow they really are trying to present a certain image of nice cuddly natives here aren't they?

After hanging out with scary fire lady for a minute, Mom and I walked over to the English Village, which had a bit more going on. You could wander into all of these little houses and talk to people. Here's the deal with that weirdness. In the Wampanoag part of Plimoth the people who work there are cultural interpreters or something like that. Basically, they'll tell you all about how native people lived in the 1600s but they're not acting like they're IN the 1600s. They're just talking about it. In the English Village, these people are going to just be an English person in 1627. End of story. So if you ask them questions about anything modern or if they ask you where you're from and you say pretty much anywhere in the US they're going to give you a blank look and/or act like you're crazy. So that's sort of fun but kind of unsettling.

There were several reproductions of houses in Plimoth, which were fascinating. Tiny (maybe 8' x 12'?), made of wood, with open fires in the corner. Most of them had a table, a place to sit, some sort of bed, and a chest. Some were fancier and bigger, most were small and very very dark. The, er, role players said that the houses would sleep 10 to 12 people every night, which meant people were camping out on the floor and in the loft and pretty much anywhere you could clear a spot to sleep. I imagine that winters were probably bitterly cold and the various rats and mice and lice and whatever other little creatures were around would not have a problem bunking up with you.

Plimoth made me marvel again that the human race didn't die out thousands of years ago. How in the hell did people reproduce? I don't know about you, but the idea of having sex with a man who hasn't bathed in months, in a house with say 10 people trying to sleep is just not appealing. And if you should get that out of the way, how did you not die in childbirth? We're talking dirt floors and zero sense of hygiene. And then if you did have a baby, and you both lived, how was that kid not going to walk straight into the open fire burning every day right in the house? They did say that children were regularly tied to the table leg to prevent burns. The cool thing about having an open fire was that any trash was just thrown in and burned up. How convenient is that?

But I'm getting off track. There was this feeling that the Indians could attack at any time. There was a very small building (fort? stockade? I have no idea what you call it) at the top of the hill (with views to the bay) with a wooden fence around it which was the only protection against attack. Sure, the English had cannons, but how much of a help will that be when your enemies have bows and arrows? The English were totally unprepared for life in North America, and yet, SOMEHOW, despite everything, they pulled through and didn't just live. They multiplied.

There were no antibiotics. No doctors. No idea of germs or anything like that. If someone died it was the will of God and that was it. One woman said that if a woman in that time lived to be 30, she'd probably live another 30. Meaning that, once you got through popping out a bunch of kids (and I guess you'd be done by 30, although I'm not quite sure why- did your system just give up?) most of the risk to a woman's life was significantly reduced until she died of something age-related. That has really stuck with me. It was the thing that I really took from Plimoth. It's weird how things stay with you.

On a topic that seems unrelated, but has sort of been boxed up in the same "numbers" category in my head, I was reading this article about visitors to art museums in the New York Times last week. It said this: "At one time a highly educated Westerner read perhaps 100 books, all of them closely." Well that just blew me away. I have read hundreds, if not thousands, of books in my life so far. Imagine narrowing that down to just 100. And I'm assuming most of those would be classics. You would read them again and again, comparing and contrasting them, pulling new ideas from them, and becoming so familiar with the work that you could probably quote entire passages. Think of what an education you would get if you read only great philosophers, Shakespearean plays, novelists of the 18th and 19th centuries, and of course the bible. (As opposed to trashy chick-lit, US Weekly, Facebook status updates, and comic books.) And think of how intensely you would read those books. Right now I could not tell you what I read last year, or what any of it was about. There's too much in my brain to remember the specifics. What would it be like if the pile of books I read was small but the focus so much sharper?

Perhaps there is something to be said for limiting the world a bit. Something to be said for knowing all of your neighbors, for reading 100 books (and owning 5 or 6) and knowing them all intimately (the books, not the neighbors). And perhaps it is midnight and I am rambling.

If you live until 30 you're going to make it 30 more.

100 books for your whole life.

Amazing stuff to think about.

Oh HELL - Nail Update

So for the past month I've done really excellently well on the nail-biting front if I do say so myself. A few little slips now and then, but I kept them polished and filed and all that and they were great. I was wearing dark nail polish to remind myself to not gnaw on them. And then I took off the dark stuff and put on some light pretty polish and... all hell broke loose. I ripped all of my nails off and within a day I was right back to square one.

It is maddening. Starting over. I put the dark dark polish on again (it looks so terrible when it is messed up and the way to mess it up is to put my fingers anywhere near my teeth), and started applying copious amounts of Badger Balm (current favorite stuff- I was using a Sally Hanson cuticle oil pen but I blew through 2 of those in a week and a half so that's not very economical and besides it was mostly just almond oil). Everything should look better in 2 or 3 days, but it takes so much focus that I am sort of surprised.

I guess there are two good things about falling off the wagon. First of all, I now know how easy it is to slide back into old habits. And second, this time it HURT. My fingertips actually hurt a lot. They didn't used to do that, so I suppose I'm getting some sensitivity back into my nails or cuticles or whatever.

I'm trying not to berate myself too much over this. I'm human, we all make mistakes, blah blah blah. I will focus on the positive- lesson learned, my nails need monster amounts of moisture and my hands need to stay busy when I'm not doing anything. So, there's the update. SIGH.

I'm Such a Baker

The other night I tried out this recipe for Tahini Butter Cookies because, well, I have a lot of tahini around that I should probably use up. I'm sure the stuff lasts for a long time in the fridge, but I really like tahini so I keep trying to find different uses for it. So far I have recipes for salad dressing, humus, a great sauce for noodles, and now cookies. I screwed around with the recipe some, added a little brown sugar (boy that dough was bitter) and then a pinch of salt to sort of brighten things up. They came out fine, but now they just taste like peanut butter cookies (which I LOVE, don't get me wrong) and I want more of the tahini flavor to come out. So I guess I need to make them with more tahini and maybe try honey next time instead of brown sugar. I don't know, I'm rambling. And have you ever seen the word "tahini" written so many times in one paragraph???

So, I made the cookies, and as I was measuring out the ingredients I noticed that I'm almost out of baking powder. Which is weird because I RARELY use the stuff. So I stood there trying to remember the last time I bought baking powder. I noticed that the can is from BiLo, which is a grocery store in North Carolina, and I left there over 4 YEARS ago. So I flipped the can over and saw it. The expiration date. 2003. No wonder those suckers came out a little flat. Back in 2001 or so wasn't the last time I bought baking powder. It was the only time I ever bought baking powder in my life.

Is anyone else getting "Julie & Julia" burnout already? I sure am. There had to be 4 articles in the New York Times this weekend about that movie, about marriage and Julia Child, about food shows and how much they've changed over the years. Then Micheal Pollan (who wrote the article about food shows) was on NPR tonight saying pretty much what his article said. Then there's the article in Entertainment Weekly about Meryl Streep, and the interviews with the actors on YouTube, and that's it, I've officially hit my saturation point. I'm not even going to link to all of the stuff, you've probably seen it. This movie had better be freaking awesome after all of the build up it's getting. And it doesn't even open until Friday.

I have to admit that for all of my bitching and moaning, the Micheal Pollan article really is interesting. Okay, okay, here's the link to that one. That's all you're getting. Thoughts to ponder:
#1 Cake mixes and other mixes didn't do well at first in the early 1950s, in fact the sales were terrible until the companies making them figured out that housewives had to feel that they were doing something in order to bake a cake. So they took out the dehydrated eggs so that women could crack open an egg or two and feel that they had made an effort. It's all about the psychology.
#2 The Food Network is not about cooking. It's about watching cooking. (FOOD PORN! and by the way that article is excellent- click that link!) Otherwise the ads they show would be for cooking gadgets and ovens and such. Instead they are from restaurants and pre-packaged frozen meals. If you stopped watching the channel you'd have time to cook. Who wants to have viewers cooking when they could be watching?
#3 "Cooking from scratch" isn't a label you can even research anymore because no one does it the way our great-grandmothers did. We don't kill chickens, mill flour, or make french fries. We open a can of soup....
#4 My favorite quote from this article is from Mario Batali about the Food Network: “Look, it’s TV! Everyone has to fall into a niche. I’m the Italian guy. Emeril’s the exuberant New Orleans guy with the big eyebrows who yells a lot. Bobby’s the grilling guy. Rachael Ray is the cheerleader-type girl who makes things at home the way a regular person would. Giada’s the beautiful girl with the nice rack who does simple Italian food. As silly as the whole Food Network is, it gives us all a soapbox to talk about the things we care about.”

So yeah, you go think about all of that, and I'm going to try to remember to restock my pantry with things like baking powder. Now I wonder how long those plastic containers of dried parsley and Lawry's Seasoned Salt have been around. This could turn into a project.