Now I'm hungry

I should be in bed.

It's 10:30 and I have to go to work tomorrow (in my head, I can hear my father's voice saying "bedtime--it's a school night!"), but I just saw a terrific movie and I am feeling inspired. The movie was Julie and Julia, based on the book by Julie Powell, which is in turn based on the blog she wrote about cooking all the recipes in Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child in one year.

I read the book a few years ago when it first came out, loved it, and gave it to more than one friend as a gift. Now that it's a hugely successful movie (my parents and I were turned away from the sold-out 2 PM show and had to come back at 7:40 tonight!), I am experiencing the mixed emotions of anyone who has watched something they loved first, turn into a major success with masses of new fair-weather fans who jump on the bandwagon of acclaim as it goes by. In other words, I am happy that it's a hit, but I want some credit for knowing it was a hit before anyone else had even heard of it. It's the same way with music: say you are devoted to a local indie band that suddenly makes it big, and now everybody's a fan, and you're not special anymore for liking them (just ask my sister about Imogen Heap).

So anyway, watching a movie about a woman who writes a blog that gets turned into a book and then a movie made me wish that might someday happen to me. But of course that would necessitate me occasionally writing (writing on? writing in?) my blog. I'm making an effort to post more frequently. We'll see.

I would definitely recommend the movie, and moreover I would recommend eating a delicious rich meal before you go, and possibly sneaking some duck in pastry or raspberry cream into the theater in your pockets. I am simultaneously starving for butter and cream and eggs, and debating whether to go online and find a deal on a used copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking right now before they're all snatched up, so that I can try my hand at the wonders therein.

Speaking of food, I went to the farmers' market this morning, because it was my week to pick up the CSA (community-supported agriculture) share I'm splitting with a coworker. Red new potatoes, green beans, still more summer squash (how much zucchini can one person eat?), the first of the sweet corn, lettuce, fresh-cut chives, and some rather disappointing blueberries. I also bought cherries and apricots. Okay, now I'm officially hungry.

This is the first year I've bought a CSA share. Because everybody gets whatever they put in the boxes for us, I've been forced to branch out from my usual weeknight repertoire. I tried fava beans for the first time--okay, but nothing special, or at least not the way I prepared them. I experimented with fried zucchini, but haven't found a recipe I like yet. Last week I ate potatoes sauteed in olive oil with leeks three times, and still couldn't get enough. I made zucchini bread from my red-and-white Better Homes and Gardens cookbook, and the smell took me back to Lanzhou, China, where I used to bake it in our tiny toaster oven for our breakfasts, and sometimes I would put in a few precious chocolate chips.

After the market today, I took Sam to the dog park for the second time this weekend. He's getting so he knows when we're approaching it--I don't know if he sees all the dogs, or recognizes the smell, but he puts his nose out the window and wags as we drive up. I would take a ball or frisbee for him, but he just doesn't seem interested. What he really likes to do is run after a dog who is chasing a ball. He doesn't want the ball; he just wants to race. We spent about half an hour, at the end of which he was plodding along, exhausted, tongue lolling. At home, he immediately sprawled on the floor and fell asleep for the rest of the afternoon. I took him for a moderate walk tonight and he wore out halfway through. It's going to take a while to build his stamina back up, I guess.

The vet also gave me stern advice about not overfeeding him. Sam gained another pound between May and August, which is still within a healthy weight for his size, but I had a stern talk with my parents (okay, my mom) about not going too crazy on the treats. If only he wasn't so good at a sweet, sad, hungry expression. Mooch.

It's a little strange for me not to be worrying about him all the time. I didn't have to be vigilant at the dog park to keep him from galloping. I don't have to plan our activities so that he doesn't have too much exertion. He can do whatever he wants now. Lucky him. Right now he's asleep in the hallway by the front door. I don't know why he likes to sleep there; he wedges his long legs in between the wall and the closet door, and presses his back up against the door. It doesn't look comfortable. As long as he's happy, though, I'll let him be.

Driving home from the movie in the dark tonight, I thought about how I started my blog last spring just as I left my last job, and how it's been a year this month since I got my new job. I was thinking about Julie in the movie, being encouraged by her readers, and how it has helped me, too, to know that people were out there caring about me and hoping for the best.

Navigating the night streets (squinting through the arced smear across my windshield from the bug I attempted to gently brush off with my windshield wipers earlier today so it wouldn't blow off in the wind and die; and instead managed to trap in the blades, maim, and eventually have to put out of its misery with the "high" setting--all while driving down the road at 35), I thought about being treated like an adult at this job, and not a perpetual twenty-something temp and secretary, even though I often feel like a child who is disguised as a responsible 30-year-old. I thought about how one of the head bosses told me on Friday that he wants me to take his place at a weeklong training he can't attend. I thanked him, but politely asked if there wasn't someone more appropriate to go instead (i.e., someone more senior or important than myself), but he said, no, he thinks it should be me. I'm not sure if I will get to, because (this being government) other people have to agree, too, but it was flattering to be thought of at all. I felt like...well, like a grown-up, like maybe people see me not as just an assistant who answers the phone and makes copies and takes care of everyone's payables. Like maybe I have potential for something. I know I'm thirty years old and I shouldn't need external affirmation from my superiors to feel good about myself. But I still like it once in a while.

And now, I really should be in bed. Either that or I will have to go into the kitchen, melt some butter, and lick it directly out of the pan. Go see Julie and Julia! And then read the book.

Good night.