I haven't read the book Eat, Pray, Love, and I'm not knowledgeable about the author who wrote it. So it's not fair for me to say it looks like the story of a spoiled little rich... *a'hem* grown woman whose boyfriend broke up with her so she took this amazing trip to the Far East.
Plus that would reveal an unpleasant, green-eyed attitude I try to resist... ;o)
The movie trailers do make me think about food, though.
I was in Baton Rouge last weekend, and I have to confess. Growing up in south Louisiana, *I* was very spoiled. I had no idea that the fact that any schmo off the street can whip up a delicious dinner for you at the drop of a hat was unique.
It's not that hard. Just take three ingredients--OK, four: butter (or olive oil), onion, bell pepper, and garlic. Add anything to that with some tomatoes and a touch of cayenne pepper, and it always comes out right.
Looking back, all the good times in the 30 years I lived there centered around big, delicious meals. A high school friend recently asked me if I was homesick. LTM: always.
But there are problems back home. The schools have changed, the population has changed since Katrina, and I think when you live somewhere and have a golden time there, moving back to recapture it... well, it never really works out, does it?
JRM and I had this conversation about Indy a while back. As many happy memories as we have of being there, it's not the same now either.
So life moves on.
You live places, you share a lot of laughs with people you love. You stay connected (hopefully--I know I'll get some feedback on that right now...)
Also while we were in Baton Rouge, my youngest daughter turned seven.
My dad and I were charged with getting her cake, which we did. She wanted a big cookie with purple icing that said "Happy Birthday, Laura!"
I tried to prepare her--we hadn't actually planned this (I have a big party planned for both daughters next week), so we might not be able to find that exact thing...
And then we did. We found exactly what she wanted.
Then I got sidetracked looking at something, Dad tried to help me, and he dropped the cake. Naturally, it landed upside down.
For a moment we stood there staring at it, stunned until we carefully picked it up and...
The nice thing about cookie cakes is if you drop them just right, they don't break. This one only had a little smudged icing that was easily fixed.
And then I started to giggle... Before long we were absolutely cracking up. We laughed the whole way home, and all day whenever I thought about my poor dad's face right after the cake hit the floor I chuckled again.
Anyone who doesn't know my dad won't understand that he's always been a tad on the klutzy side... (it's where I get it from!) And my daughter's named for him, so she tends to be his little sidekick.
I don't know about you guys, but it's been a tough year. And I don't get a trip to India to make it all better... or some semi-hunky French dude.
But I'm happy that looking back, there's no way I can feel sorry for myself (or be sour-grapesey with the author of EPL).
Lately I've been praying all the time. And I'm trying not to be selfish with it. I pray you see the ways you're so blessed and lucky, too.
Have a great weekend, reader friends! Book review Monday~