The blog is certainly another tool for writers out there to break their way in. But being a blogger does not make you a great writer.

Maybe I needed to make like a potato, winnow myself down, be part of something that was not easy, just simple.

Physically it's exhausting to cook every night. Existentially speaking, I have so much more energy having that time to myself in this project, this gift to myself at the end of the day. Even if it didn't go smoothly, it was still a gift.

Nowadays anyone with a crap laptop and an Internet connection can sound their barbaric yawp, whatever it may be.

So the end may be a long time coming, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have a way of sneaking up on you.

It's sad, but a relief as well, to know that two things so closely bound together can separate with so little violence.

If there's a sexier sound on this planet than the person you're in love with cooing over the crepes you made for him, I don't know what it is.