F' the French

Okay so those of you who strangely love me and follow my life (gah why?) know that I hate the french for so many reasons but mostly because they cook better than anyone and don't give a fuck what we think. HUH? I am "merican" you better care - well - no not really. So now after a long and sadly one sided affair with Anthony Bourdain I am left with this need to cook - um French things. AND another book to add insult to injury - Bob Spitz - the Saucier's Apprentice. I've been undone. I need to learn to cook French - speak French and most importantly - I want to go to Brittany. NOT France they can still kiss my ass. And it's really tight now - email me and I'll give you my exercise routine - it well, kicks ass. ANYWAY, God Damn them (not that they care) I need some of this and I don't know who or what do do about it. I am this close to the Rosetta Stone - French as I have ever been - someone talk me down - or maybe I'll just take up smoking and wearing berets. Though strangely something tells me this just won't cut it. My daughter Trinity turns 10 (I am actually having a hard time with this one) and we are having a juice and cheese tasting party. I want to introduce caviar as well. Why? Dunno, just need to make this a big deal. My mom was great, but I want to be the "get it" mom - though I am the biggest hard nose bitch you will ever see. I love my kids but never expect to be their friend until they are at least 25 and/or married or something. I don't need my kids to be my friend unlike my husband. I really don't need these folks to like me - in fact that makes me suspect. BUT why do I need to do this lavish affair. Um midlife crisis. Perhaps. I feel something big coming and am trying to ignore it. Dunno - wait for the next installment. It's coming. Soon.