27 June 2002 - 5:34 p.m.

It appears that my pie crust is a bit whack before I've even amanged to get it into the oven. Oh, well. Maybe if I had a swank pastry mat like my friend got at her shower, I could have made my own, and formed the crust into dear little circles, and everyone would live happily ever after.

Giggle. Giggle. SNORT.

I know, I know. Two uears ago, my rolling pin and I would have been having a field day, but those days are no more, hence my vast collection of useless shit. There is very little to do whilst waiting for some man to come along who you can cook for, other than accumulate useless kitchen shit. Now that I have a man who is happy to cook for me, I look back on my wasted nineteenth and twentieth years and wish I had accumulated more tattoos.

Okay, I'm kidding. I'm not much for pictures inked onto people. And it's not like my domestic streak is really gone. I am making dinner, after all. Attending a shower just made me think about a lot of things, like pie crust. My mother gave me some important advice about pie crust a few years back: "The thing about homemade pie crust is that it's a pain in the ass, and it usually isn't any good. That's why you should use frozen pie crust. It's really easy, and it's always good." Word.

Also, a cooler. I can't imagine being at a place in my life where owning a cooler on wheels would be a necessity. And in spite of what anyone might say, I don't think my dispassion toward coolers is a metaphor for relationships. It just makes me want to keep my relationship unlike other relationships for a while. Like if coolers are the norm, I'll register for the Sims Vacation, and enjoy a virtual cooler via my Sims.

That works, no?

What I'm wearing:

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What I'm doing after this: