So. Julie and Julia. Quite a delicious book. Quite a delectable read. Julie and Julia cronicles the year that the author, Julie Powell spent cooking all the recipes in Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Something like 524? I think. Anyway, the author lives in a tiny apartment with a tiny kitchen and this presents all sorts of problems and whatnot. Thinking back, I did not find myself hungry all the time while reading this book. They are a lot of meat recipes and meat and I have a tenuous relationship. I digress. My favorite parts were where when Powell decides to cook something "interesting" like beer marrow or calf's brains. Yum. And she fucks up a lot. And says so herself. Which is exactly what would happen to me if I were trying to cook French food. Like making pasty dough 15 times. So I highly recommend this book. Its not just about cooking, its also about Powell's search to find herself. See the passage I quoted in my last post. So yeah. Its good.

This week has found me frantically searching for a summer co op. Problem is there is practically nothing out there. Booooo. I am staying in my beloved Rachachacha this summer. Because I can't bear to be away from this city. Really. No. I feel like there's nothing in EC for me job wise. I am not going back to sharp for a 5th summer there. I am definately not going back to Sacred Heart for a 2nd summer in purgatory. So I am staying here. I don't know if I will visit at home. Really. I don't. Just give me a frickin co op already.

Check my flickr I got some sweet rugby shots up. Yeaaah.