Dear internet, I am bored.

I must make a confession.

Though I saw it four times in the theater, I have cooled quite a bit on 2005’s Pride and Prejudice. I still think it’s beautiful, the soundtrack is lovely, and it’s a lot of fun . . . but it’s just not right. I know all the things that irritate people about the movie, and even though they don’t irritate me, too, I am aware of them and sensitive to them. And I just don’t enjoy the movie as much as I used to. (I still like the proposal in the rain, even though it’s wrong. I can’t help myself.)

I know, I know. Enough surprising confessions.

I saw No Reservations yesterday, and I had read some bad reviews of it (well, I didn’t really the reviews themselves. I just saw that the overall ratings were mediocre) and I kept waiting for the part where I got irritated with the movie (a la How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days or Sweet Home Alabama) and . . . I never did. I’m not saying it’s brilliant or that it has great things to say about male/female relationships (or women in the workplace) or that I want to watch it repeatedly. Just that, for two hours, I enjoyed myself. There are worse things in life. I took my aunt for her very belated birthday present, and she loved it. So there you go.

I have decided that one of my primary love languages is fresh vegetables. Homegrown vegetables, to be specific. Seriously. Mike and I keep failing at our tomato and pepper and cucumber efforts (WHAT ARE WE DOING WRONG?), and when people give me homegrown tomatoes, it’s like manna from heaven. It means more than I can tell you. I love love love fresh tomatoes. When someone offered me some at church yesterday, I was really touched. I can’t wait to make a salad tonight. Someone should give me some cucumbers, too. Anyone? If I had nice vegetables, I would love giving them to people. I would give them proudly. “LOOK WHAT I GREW!” Also, I would make lots of salsa. Maybe one day.

I was going to make some Afghanistanani treats for my book club tomorrow (A Thousand Splendid Suns), but I forgot to buy the ingredients at the special store. I read the “snacks for Tuesday” as “snacks for Friday.” Chocolate chip cookies it is!

I’m reading an interesting book . . . after I started it, I read a review that said that it would be good for fans of Philippa Gregory and Girl with a Pearl Earring, and I was like, “Great, I like both of those things.” But even then I was finding it a little slow, so I checked the ending. And, wow, it took some twists I did not expect. And I totally ruined it for myself. When I told Mike, he cackled with glee. He hates it when I ruin the end. He was glad it came back to bite me in the butt this time.

Can you tell I’m bored, internet? It’s boring at my house.

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