movies, shows, whatever's on the stove, and opinions nobody asked for
and the bathhouse scene still gets me every single time. there's something about how quiet the tension is — nobody's yelling, nothing's exploding, it's just a girl trying to remember her own name in a place designed to make her forget. I think about that scene more than movies that actually try to be sad.
anyway I'm declaring this an annual tradition now. no notes.
turns out the secret was not being scared of the olive oil. attempt one was dense enough to use as a doorstop, attempt two burned on the bottom because I didn't trust the recipe when it said "yes, really, that much oil in the pan." attempt three: actual bubbles, actual crunch, actual joy.
writing the recipe down here before I forget it again.
I've seen the discourse. I've read the threads. I still think the finale worked, and I think the reason people are mad is that they wanted a bigger ending than the show ever promised to give them. it was always a small, quiet show about people who don't say what they mean — why would the ending be any different?
come at me in the guestbook.
I did not sign up to be an unpaid cashier. I did not sign up to have a robot voice accuse me of "unexpected items in the bagging area" when the only unexpected item is my own crumbling will to live. bring back the person who bags my groceries and asks about my day.
nothing here yet — check back soon, or pick a different tab!
say hi, argue with me about the finale, share a recipe — whatever. (saved to your own browser only, since this site has no backend — refresh-proof, but not shared with other visitors.)
jamie
found this from a webring, staying for the focaccia recipe
sam
the finale thing... I need to talk to you