Monday, September 14, 2009
I'm having butter issues......
It's driving me fucking insane.
It's keeping me up at night.
It's invaded my thoughts.
All I can think about is butter.
It's this empty nesting thing.
Made all the more problematic by my impatience.
It's butter--it's going to worsen my Monday....a day that needs no help in the worse department.
Butter...it's driving me to madness.
With a silver spoon.
Here's the thing--right before we left on vacation, I bought the book "Julie & Julia". I never read it on vacation. I opted for piles of magazines. After that, I was just too busy with whatever I was too busy with to pick it up and start reading.
Then came last week.
With Carmen on the road and the kids firmly planted at their educational institutions--I was coming home to an empty house every single night.
And, I didn't like it.
The silence was deadly.
I did not like walking in the door not calling out to someone that I was there.
And, the emptiness of the house was making me teary one minute and in fear of masked burglars the next.
I needed something....anything.
I had fleetingly thought of painting my buffet a creamy shade of yellow but gave up on the idea when I realized I'd have to empty the whole thing, cover the hard wood floors and the house would probably smell. Plus, who wants to start painting at 7 pm?
TV wasn't doing it for me and as loud as I blasted music--roaming from room to room in search of....well, in search what?--a third child I didn't know I had?....with music blaring was getting on my nerves.
So, on one of my waltzes past the book shelf---I spied "Julie and Julia". Ah-ha. Perfect! It's about a girl named Julie with a blog who cooks, drinks gimlets and likes to sneak smokes. Sounded exactly like the kind of friend I needed.....and I could park myself in my chair or in my bed with a cup of tea or a glass of wine while I visited with her. What could be more perfect?
As adorably chatty and zany as Julie is--the girl uses a hell of a lot of butter. I mean...I have nothing at all against butter. Hell, I looove butter. Yes, I do. Ah-ha. But, if the word butter is mentioned once it's mentioned 6000 times. There have been moments I wanted to grab a pound of butter out of the freezer (that's where I keep it!) and just gnaw at it. And, I have literally had fantasies about gorging on huge handfuls of popcorn just dripping and oozing with butter. And, let's not get started on the deep ache at the core of my being--as I imagine the site of pasta ladled with a sauce made from butter, lemon and garlic then dusted with freshly grated parmesean cheese. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH..........
Julie cooks foods I can't pronounce. She's cooking Julia Child's French cousine--lots of chicken livers, bone marrows, lobsters, rice rings, artichokes....well you get the jist of it. Seriously, it's food I do not care about and do not what to eat. It's the butter.
She slathers it all with....butter.
Stop with the butter, Julie. Please.
Listen, I am one who can tear through a book. And, really that's what I want to do. I want to get to the end. I'm impatient like that.
But, I can't.
And, the fact that I can't is giving me quivers in my thighs.
I can feel my teeth grinding.
My hands trembling.
My stomach turning.
My hair standing on end.
Enough with the God damn butter
I can't think of anything else.....
I mean it....this butter thing is really becoming a problem.
You have no idea how much I want a piece of toast slathered with butter....right now.
I feel like I could kill for it.
Yeah, literally kill for it.
Luckily there's no one here to kill at the moment.....
Oh Julie......we might have to part ways before I even find out how your story ends.
The butter is killing me.