congratulations to my dear friends attila and jen who are getting hitched! they're a couple that makes sense (actually a rarity). do any of you have any couple friends where you wonder that they simply MUST have some kind of secret, behind-the-scenes life that provides the fuel for their companionship, because when you see them out together, you just don't understand how it works? i do. attila (aka my male doppelganger) and jen are NOT THAT. i love you two!!!
in other news, i haven't done a lit round-up in a while, but that doesn't mean i haven't been reading. au contraire, mon frere. a month or so ago, i finished reading "the 100-mile diet: a year of local eating" written by a canuck couple living in vancouver or thereabouts. they're writers. i kinda knew that i was going to hate it, but it's one of those things where i HAVE to read it so i can know in concrete terms exactly what it is i'm hating. the two decided to embark on a 100-mile diet (which works for them because they live in one of the more fertile and ecologically and agriculturally diverse areas in canada) for all the usual reasons (fossil fuels, blah blah blah) and go about it and write about it in the usual way (the de rigeur earnest-and-self-congratulatory-with-interjections-of-wry-self-awareness-
that's-supposed-to-mitigate-the -earnestness-and-self-congratulatoriness) taken by young, privileged, urban thirty-somethings with aspirations of pastoral redemption. bah. the book was REALLY annoying (i thought). they go through month by month and it's more of a personal journey than you would think, which on the one hand makes it more engaging than a laundry list of their dinners (from a voyeuristic perspective) but on the other hand makes the scope kind of limited to how much you want to know about their lives (for me, i found them annoying, so i didn't care all that much). let me put it to you this way: their relationship starts to "crumble" (or at least the reader is led to believe this) and is redeemed by them finding a source of wheat. oh yes, my friends, WHEAT becomes the symbolic and literal turning point in this slim narrative of ponciness.
meh. it just wasn't my thing.
tonight we're having the coach and her co-star over for dinner. we're having fried masa and fresh corn cakes (kind of like really THICK tortillas...sopas?) topped with a guajillo pepper black bean chili with monterrey jack, guac, salsa and sour cream. i also want to make that blueberry sour cream pie so we can eat that with ice cream and clear some space in the freezer. we'll see whether i have enough time.