for the farmer’s daughter

In answer to EmK’s request:
Favorite day of the year: Someone’s birthday. Mine is good, but someone else’s is good, too. Cake, presents, and general goodwill! What’s not to like?
Favorite song TODAY: Elvis Costello’s cover of “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood.” A raging headache has me in a low, stormy mood, and this suits it.
Favorite food: Fresh homemade bread, still fragrant and warm from the oven.
Last movie watched: David Cronenberg’s Crash. Still recovering from that.
Book currently reading: I just finished Spalding Gray’s Impossible Vacation. About fifty pages in, I was horribly overwhelmed by the memory that Gray drowned himself. In the course of the book, you can see it building (in the author, not the character).
Something you plan to do today: If the headache blows off, I’ll make mushroom risotto, roasted asparagus, and artichoke-parmesan crostini. If not, I’ll lie here moaning faintly and D will rustle up his own dinner.
Something you regret: Walking huffily through those skateboarders the other day, even if they were blocking the way.
Three guilty pleasures you are willing to share (this is the fun one):
Walking huffily through those skateboarders the other day. Sometimes I enjoy being That Lady. You know, That Grown-up Huffy Lady.
This week, we watched Boxing Helena, Jennifer Chambers Lynch’s notoriously awful thriller. For years, I’ve been fascinated by it but too ambivalent to indulge my curiosity, and I must say that I was admirably rewarded for succumbing. It’s thoroughly iincompetent and risible, jam-packed with hackery, clichés, and hamhandedness that surpasses any film in recent memory. I laughed until I was sick.
Artisanal fancy-pants pizza with gourmet toppings makes a smashing dinner, but I miss cheap greasy pizza with fatty, orange cheese by-product (what is that stuff? oil?) pooled on top, and washed down with a big icy Coke.

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