Turpentine

I just have to speak out against expensive cookware for a moment. And I say this as a person who owns expensive cookware. Maybe I’m not the cook I think I am (ha! HA!), but I am just as happy with my el cheapo cookware from Target as I am with my entire *set* of super-pricey Calphalon, and I’ll even go so far as to say I’m not bowled over by my Le Creuset pieces.

I don’t get it. Someone talk to me. When, if ever, is expensive cookware better? I have a range of stuff, from cast iron to non-reactive stainless steel, but I … I don’t get why they need to be pricey, for I’ve had several of them for — dare I say? — decades. Enlighten me.

I’m trying oh-so-desperately not to focus an undue amount of energy on the Sox game, because when I get too involved, I start to believe that I can move the ball with my mind. (I totally can.)

And right now, I’ll tell you that I fell asleep before the end of last night’s game. I just couldn’t take it, I was so tired that I was snippy, bitchy and unhappy, like a toddler who refuses to take a nap. As I get older — and keep the ridiculously early morning schedule I’ve been rocking — not only can I not stay up late, but I can’t even fake it, as I start to become grumpy, overwrought and excessively whiny. All super-attractive traits, especially if you ask my husband, who can’t so much as ask me to hand him the remote without a long diatribe about how the remote is so heavy and I am so tired, and why can’t he reach just a LITTLE further to save my arm the excess strain?

I am rapidly careening towards that point, so I’ll keep this short. But not before I ask: how is it possible for someone to write your full name — like, say, in an e-mail address — then misspell it in the body of the e-mail? Like, for example, if someone were to send an e-mail to jonna at jonniker.com, then write “Dear Johanna,” or worse, Joanna. Have I ever told you how much I hate the name Joanna? It’s not Joanna’s fault. It’s that it’s not my name, and I’m called Joanna at least five times a week. Instead of being a perfectly nice, valid name, Joanna is an abomination of my own name, and an entirely inappropriate, yet completely acceptable, name.

Also, if you’re wondering if you did this, I can assure you, you didn’t.

I imagine these are the same people who leave messages on our voice mail — the same voice mail that says, rather perkily, “Hi, you’ve reached Adam and Jonna …” and proceed to leave very personal medical information and perhaps the number for a Swiss bank account for a woman named Gloria Freinhofer.

And I just barked like an overtired seal at, in no particular order: my husband, the cat, the dog, the television and also my computer. It’s time.

Happy Friday! Happy Friday!

*Brandi Carlile. I use it today because it was one of the 12 free songs I snagged at Starbucks today, as part of their free song program. Because I am a sheep. A sad, sad consumerist sheep.

27 comments October 25th, 2007