mmmm....chili dogs!

The chili is simmering on the stove now. I like lots of onions, in the chili and sprinled on top. No one's kissing me tonight, hah! So as I was cutting the onions, I was reminded of the poem 'cut' by Sylvia Plath. I read the bell jar when I was around 17 or 18, back when books like that and Siddartha seemed very important. I didn't really dig on it, and it surprised people who knew me at the time. "what's the big deal? She's depressed cause she's so pretty and in NYC and has a free ride to a good college and talent and working at a glamour magazine?" yeah, I'd be so sad myself. It's not a bad book, Just boring. But I always loved that poem. Last week I picked up a book of her journals, and they are a great read! I once read that you should really read journals and diaries one entry a day, so that you can better apreciate the passage of time, but hell with that. I stayed up untill 2 am the other night, just unable to put it down. It's just everyday, really, everyday of a very smart girl and for some reason absolutely compelling. especially where she talks about her future married self. Well, we all know how that turned out. But it's still amazing. I want to transcribe that poem and hang it up over the stove in the kitchen. So everyday. I know there's a lot of crazy folks out there reading in to poems and books and all that, but I am a shallow person. She cut her thumb while fixing dinner. I've done the same thing, but I don't write poems.

Thank goodness.