by Steven Doyle
For those that know me well understand that I spend an inordinate amount of time on Facebook when I probably should be working. I do not watch television ever, so it relaxes me, plus I get some decent information from a variety of people.
I started reading the Facebook wall of Julie Powell, a Texan that now resides in New York City and is the author of Julie & Julia that was later made into a motion picture. For those living in Oklahoma, Powell used Julia Child‘s cookery book Mastering the Art of French Cooking as a basis for a blog and spent an entire year making every recipe listed.
Since the movie, Powell has written another book called Cleaving: a Story of Marriage, Meat, and Obsession, which details her love for butchering and also her affair.
Sometimes I enjoy reading Julie on Facebook since she is a bit snarky and borderline rude. Here are a few of her more recent entries:
- You know what I love? I love that when I send an email to the gofugyourself girls, they write right back. That is a privilege I need to really not abuse.
- Drinking alone during the day somehow seems less desperate and sad when you’re doing it sitting on the deck in the sun with your dog.
- Seems to be feast or famine here when it comes to the good old monthlies…
- My exercise regimen this week so far would be very impressive if only I were 70 years old.
- There’s nothing I hate more than a juiceless lemon. I’m totally lying. Homophobes and the end of Pretty in Pink come immediately to mind. Still, it’s pretty annoying.
- It really chaps my hide when closeted politicians go balls-out homophobic. We do all know that Rick Perry likes dudes, right?
- Standing out in the rain, smoking a hand-rolled cigarette, looking at the Manhattan and Brooklyn bridges sparkle while two improbably hip dudes discuss the joys of mead made from honey harvested from their own hives… Occasionally I do live like a Brooklyn foodie.
- I once bummed a cigarette off Peter Dinklage. This was before I had a crush on him, or even really knew who he was, so I didn’t make a pass at him. Missed opportunities….
Now go back and reread aloud using your best Mark Twain voice.
Thanks Julie for allowing me screw away my Friday afternoon.
