Julie & Julia opens today. I am so fricking excited about this and have my day plotted out so I can see it this evening. Even though I read the novel a couple of years ago, I never thought to get Mastering the art of French cooking before now. Stupid, stupid, stupid. To buy used copies will run me about $60 if I'm lucky. And there's no way I can personally pay money for a book that has Meryl Streep on the cover as Julia Child. As much as I like Meryl Streep, that's just sacrilege.
Sometimes I feel like I picked the wrong career. The process of cooking/baking is so therapeutic and is one of the only times I'm not lashing out or being sulky. But then I remember that cooking for a living forces you to be around other people and then I'm happy it isn't my job. Being around all those knives with yelling co-workers...
I need to roast a chicken massaged with butter soon.
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