Hunger

We watched No Reservations today. It struck me how very much I am like CZJ's character in the movie, and C is like Aaron Eckhart's. How did I end up being like that? Boyo, I have issues. Maybe I need some therapy too. Retail therapy doesn't seem to be make me any better of besides make me poorer in the bank account. On the other hand, watching that movie, and also planning to watch Ratatouille made me realise how long I gotten down to do some real cooking. Last count I had 28 cookbooks, and I still do. C asked me if I remember when I last cooked for him, and honestly, I don't remember. The last time I made something from my cookbook was for my boss' bbq party earlier this year (or late last year) - way too long ago. I miss cooking, and haven't done any since seriously starting school, and I miss cooking for C (since he just about eats anything I cook, except for the dreaded nottobementioned WBS).

I stare wistfully at my cookbooks. Soon I hope. Soon I will be reunited with them again. I need to take time off from work before it turns me into a sour old biddy.

Parting thought of the day - does an erection add weight to a man? Somehow wierd thoughts worth blogging always come to mind just as C rounds the corner to my house. I look at him and whop in glee at a new bloggable idea. He looks at me as if I'm daft. But these thoughts are always worth a penny or more. I certainly think a woody add weights, hey come on, one min the fella is a limp beanbag, and next it's a solid woody. Bigger = more weight right? Ho ho ho.