One of the amazing terrible things about the information explosion is all the information. And even that isn’t an original idea. In fact, I would hazard to guess there are no original ideas left to be had. Ever. Seriously, Google your “original” idea and I bet you will find it at least once. All my “original” ideas are available by at least page two of the Google Top Six Million. Usually I can score a hit on page one. For instance, a few weeks ago, a friend of mine happened to link a cautionary blog post about poking around the internet and the hapless practice of thinking everything you write/do/say/think sucks compared to everyone else. Oh. My. God. I do this like almost every freakin’ day! Gah! Even my time wasting acts of self-flagellation aren’t original. In fact, the only original idea I’ve ever had was this whole Edgy June Cleaver Nome d’ plume. And even that wasn’t my original idea. My friend the rock-n-roll critic dubbed me that about twelve years ago and I stole it from him. Trust me, I searched edgyjunecleaver on yahoo, Google and ask.com because I didn’t want some thirty-something successful blogger with an enterprise, website, Café Press store, etsy store, pod cast, and movie emailing me:

“Bitch, that’s my name and my enterprise.”

That this has yet to happen is a beautiful thing in my life because I am so devoid of ideas just now; if someone did email me a message like this, I would slam the laptop shut and never write another word again except for monosyllabic text speak emails in lower case letters and maybe a grocery list or two. Maybe. Doubtful. Because I seriously do not think notwriting would change how I feel about grocery shopping or cooking and I would suddenly be Denver’s answer to Ree Drummond. Only without the zillion dollar website, cookbook, and movie deal.

That being said. I woke up a couple of weeks ago with a wild hair up my ass and am now toying with entering my extremely awesome, filled with secret ingredients, quiche in the pie contest at the Denver County Fair. And for those of you naysayers out there shaking your head at the idea of a quiche in a pie contest, it will be in the “Pie Open Class” category. I could make a pie out of an old shoe and fire ants if I wanted to. Of course no one would eat it except maybe a golden retriever because they eat anything. However, this whole baking thing will require I go to the grocery store and turn on the oven. It will also be necessary for me to make a pie crust that isn’t dust, mush, or rubber. I guess I’m going to have to blow the dust off of Martha Stewart’s old pie crust recipe and start experimenting.
Watch out. This is gonna get messy.