“Remember that Mel Gibson movie?”
“The one that no one should remember about the beaver?”
“No, the other one.”
“…”
“You know. Not the hair shirt brave one or the one with pantyhose, a blowdryer, and a bathtub. Or that weird one where he has an airplane and mismatched eyes and is aging wrong. I mean the one with Catcher In The Rye.”
“Catcher And The Rye. You should know that.”
“I should. But I won’t remember. It’s the same with ‘supposed.’ I can never remember that it’s two p’s and not two s’s. Spelling has nothing to do with intelligence. It’s habit. I have worse ones.”
“Tangents on your list?”
“No, but uttering sweet nothings like ‘blow me’ are toward the bottom.”
“And Mel fits in where?”
“Oh, right. So The Catcher one, where he always needs a copy to feel safe.”
“Yeah, yeah. I don’t know the name, but yeah.”
“That’s kinda me. I get obsessive like that. Like, if there’s some new product or download or new cookbook, I have to have it, even if I have no intention of using it in the near future. That feeling of needing to know it’s there in case, that’s a bit of a sickness.”
Fear. Is fear at play? Like hoarder need, what if the world explodes fear? No. But I like to have things, in advance, I think, because it enables my future lazy. It’s like storing up acorns for winter. I like a full pantry of things I may never use because I light up when I read a recipe and I can mentally check off each ingredient, “Yup, got that. Got it. Just need the scallions. Done.” I do it with art supplies for kid crafts, makeup, cookbooks, name it. It’s sick. Point: my Catcher In The Rye (I was right, thank you) is an ipad full of downloaded cookbooks (though it’s really not the same as a hardcover cookbook to flit through).
Today’s procrastination involved organizing my ibook cookbooks into categories. “Paleo,” “Southern & Mex,” “Slow cooker & One Pot“ “Farm Stand,” “TV & Restaurant Chefs.” “Cozy Housewife,” for example consists of comfort foods, casserole books, cake doctor bake sale cookie books. Don’t ask me if I’ve ever made a casserole in my life (aside from lasagna, the answer is no). But I like the idea of being the type of mom who makes a casserole. Does anyone actually like casseroles? I am having family over soon for an “Autumn Gathering,” where I will be pulling recipes from the “Harvest, Let It Snow” category (books mostly dedicated to soups, tailgating, thanksgiving, Jewish cooking, and Christmas). Thank goodness for EatYourBooks! I swear, greatest greatest product. Love the ability to search all my cookbooks (and food blogs) without opening a single one!
Also, total side note, any time Secretariat is on TV, I must watch the entire thing, and I cry at least fifteen times. I deeply relate to films where everyone tells a character she can’t do something, that it’s impossible, that she’s making the wrong decision… but she doesn’t stop, doesn’t take shit, and shows ‘em all. I relate with this emotion more than any other. Against the odds is always in my favor. Any favorites in this film category that don’t involve sports? (Not that I’m anti sports films. In fact, I almost love them all).
