So I wake up this morning, sick, as I've been since Thursday night, and read a little bit of The Count of Monte Cristo, which was a pretty good book. I decide that yes, today is the day that I will do it: today is the day that I will make Tarte Tatin. From the moment I saw Dave Leiberman make it on his show, I knew that this was the upside down apple pie for me. So we went to the store at 4:00 and got apples. And I cooked the apples. And I burned the apples. Now, you'd think I would have been like, well, since I burned the main ingredient, better stop. But no. I made the crust. I cooked it. I tasted it. And I threw up in my mouth a little bit.
I feel so sad that I failed. I mean, I know it said that the recipe was difficult. But mostly things that say difficult aren't for me. I want to be good at cooking, because cooking takes my minds off of things. Cooking gives me something to do, and if I'm not good at cooking, what am I good at? Nothing. Except for being a semi-decent friend. And I'm not even that good at that.
Agh. The rest of my weekend was okay. I watched Donnie Darko. Made no sense. Maybe I'm just stupid, though. But seriously. No sense whatsoever. I watched Malice, too, partly because I had just watched While You Were Sleeping and was kind of crushing on Bill Pullman. But I'd never seen that movie, so I had no idea that I would come to think of Bill Pullman as a loser who married an avaricious psychopath. Ech.
I finally finished the Count of Monte Cristo though, at the expense of my English paper and my recitation. Like I said, it was pretty good. I still love the movie, though. I love them both, but they're different (obviously, since the book's like, 600 pages.) It said in the back that one guy tried to make it into a 20 act play that took two days and a crew of over 100 to finish. Surprisingly, it didn't do very well.
Poor guy. He probably thought that he was good at adapting books into plays. Boy, was he wrong.
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