Julie & Julia

Just finished reading "Julie & Julia," which is a fantastic memoir and I have a crush on the author, Julie Powell, which she would likely find creepy but also kind of cool.

I imagine she's used to it now, seeing as the book has been out for five years and it's being made into a movie with Meryl Streep and Amy Adams, but her book is a big part of the reason why I've begun blogging regularly again. It's good to have a project.

The book, for those of you who don't know, is a about a 29-year-old actress at a dead-end secretarial job in New York City who averts mental collapse by resolving to cook all 524 recipes in Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" in one year. Powell's book crackles and pops with wit - I found myself laughing out loud often while reading - and when she talks about how it felt to be approaching 30 and working at a job with no future and not feeling like she would ever get her shit together, well, dear Reader, I'm no stranger to that inner-monologue. The only difference is that her neurotic blog (upon which the book is based) garnered legions of followers and got her interviews on CBS and in the New York Times, not to mention a book and movie deal.

Mine got one hit in June. Alas.

That said, I found the experience of reading quite comforting. I used to think that everyone else had their shit together and I was the broken one for not having a clue. Now I realize that the vast majority of people, especially people of the 26-35 persuasion, are groping for meaning and purpose and the "next step." A well-written memoir/blog is the act of making sense out of what seems like a jumble of experiences with no narrative, no common thread. The idea that your everyday experiences can amount to a meaningful, funny story that can inspire others is a really happy thought. I came away from this book feeling a little better about my own quest. Good stuff.