Just as Stephanie has been having an affair with her kitchen , I have been having an affair with the un-food blogosphere. That's right, you heard me. Every day, I wake up and read sometimes poignant, always amusing stories about being a wife, a mom and a writer in Salt Lake City , or what's the best thing to wear to a summer job interview . I read two music blogs (and I'm especially partial to the one about this guy with brain damage making an album ). I read about trying to save the Earth , one family at a time, and about trying to make it as a writer -- of plays, TV, and movies -- in L.A. And that last blog, that's the one to blame for this meme, which is now crossing over, like the virus it is, into the food blogosphere. (Or maybe it's already been here...?) All you do is set out 8 random facts about yourself, and then tag 8 people. That's a lot of people mad at you. Couldn't you just get cheap airline tickets years of bad luck instead? I know, I know, gripe gripe gripe. But it's Sunday morning, I don't feel like working on the piece that's now 4 days overdue (gulp) and it's too early go and buy a breakfast cupcake right across the street. So, here goes. 1. I bite my nails. Right down to the quick, if I can. My mother tried everything to get me to stop (except stopping herself -- monkey see, monkey do!) but I never could, so for the last 8 years or something I've had fake ones.

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Just as Stephanie has been having an affair with her kitchen , I have been having an affair with the un-food blogosphere. That's right, you heard me. Every day, I wake up and read sometimes poignant, always amusing stories about being a wife, a mom and a writer in Salt Lake City , or what's the best thing to wear to a summer job interview . I read two music blogs (and I'm especially domain name search artial to the one about this guy with brain damage making an album ). I read about trying to save the Earth , one family at a time, and about trying to make it as a writer -- of plays, TV, and movies -- in L.A. And that last blog, that's the one to blame for this meme, which is now crossing over, like the virus it is, into the food blogosphere. (Or maybe it's already been here...?) All you do is set out 8 random facts about yourself, and then tag 8 people. That's a lot of people mad at you. Couldn't you just get 7 years of bad luck instead? I know, I know, gripe gripe gripe. But it's Sunday morning, I don't feel like working on the piece that's now 4 days overdue (gulp) and it's too early go and buy a breakfast cupcake right across the street. So, here goes. 1. I bite my nails. Right down to the quick, if I can. My mother tried everything to get me to stop (except stopping herself -- monkey see, monkey do!) but I never could, so for the last 8 years or something I've had fake ones.

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Just as Stephanie has been having an affair with her kitchen , I have been having an affair with the un-food blogosphere. That's right, you heard me. Every day, I wake up and read sometimes poignant, always amusing stories about being a wife, a mom and a writer in Salt Lake City , or what's the best thing to wear to a summer job interview . I read two music blogs (and I'm especially partial to the one about this guy with brain damage making an album ). I read about trying to save the Earth , one family at a time, and about trying to make it as a writer -- of plays, TV, and movies -- in L.A. And that last blog, that's the one to blame for this meme, which is now crossing over, like the virus it is, into the food blogosphere. (Or maybe it's already been here...?) All you free web log o is set out 8 random facts about yourself, and then tag 8 people. That's a lot of people mad at you. Couldn't you just get 7 years of bad luck instead? I know, I know, gripe gripe gripe. But it's Sunday morning, I don't feel like working on the piece that's now 4 days overdue (gulp) and it's too early go and buy a breakfast cupcake right across the street. So, here goes. 1. I bite my nails. Right down to the quick, if I can. My mother tried everything to get me to stop (except stopping herself -- monkey see, monkey do!) but I never could, so for the last 8 years or something I've had fake ones.