Julie and Julia, Creme de la Creme

It's tragic but I lack organization in spades. This is evidenced by my possessing two copies of Nora Ephron's Crazy Salad. Further to that is that I can only find one copy currently.

I became sick with joy as I read Nora's Heartburn, which recounted the nasty betrayal by her husband, the Bernstein of Woodward and Bernstein of Watergate fame, with her best friend. As I recall, her husband, whom I am to lazy to Google for a first name, said that she was entitled to one book for what he'd done, so he didn't press charges. The movie didn't fly, but it still was funny.

So, I hightailed it to the movie theater to see Julie and Julia and was massively rewarded. It's almost a chick-flick, but not really. It's amazingly well-written, well acted and funny. I was there alone since DeeAnn forgot her appointment was at 4:00 and not the traditional 2:00 this afternoon so I solaced myself with a movie and Diet Coke.

You don't even need to remember Julia Child to enjoy this. Meryl Streep becomes her to the point of channeling . . . and it's really entertaining.

That's Nora in the photo. Incidentally, if you happen to know Ms. Ephron's Twitter address, let me know. I'd love to follow her. I'm sure every word from her pen is a gem.