i woke up this morning at 4 am and could not get back to sleep. my stomach felt all queasy and upset, almost like when i drink too many jack and gingers. but for once in my life i could not blame my suffering on jack daniels. this time i had no one to blame but the lovely folks at plan b and their ingenious combination of french fries + truffle oil.
for those of you who have never experienced truffles or truffle oil, let me tell you, you are missing out in a big way. i would even go so far as to say that you're life can't possibly be complete until you eat a truffle (or at least something truffled). truffles taste rich, earthy and almost garlicky, and when combined with the basic, comforting potatoey goodness of french fries, the flavor becomes addictive.
i first had the truffle fries at plan b on a wednesday. i returned that friday for more. then a week later i got take out, which was the beggining of a plan b extravaganza that lasted all of this weekend. i'm not even kidding you. friday, saturday and last night as well, when my body finally gave out and protested my newly formed habit.
i'm detoxing now. lots of green tea and brown rice. but i'm not even gonna lie to you and say that it's easy. i am constantly being tempted by visions of not only their truffle fries, but also their tater tots (which taste like mcdonald's hash browns, in a good way), their parmesan fries, and their burgers. oh, lordy, their burgers. that's another addiction in and of itself.
also, their list of alcoholic beverages is freaking phenomenal, mainly because it focuses on dark liquors, like whiskey and bourbon, rather than prissy flavored vodka martinis. they have shit like mint juleps, and sidecars, and also, this ourtageous drink that combines galliano with cream to make a surprisingly accurate imitation of a root beer float.
since it's obvious that i'm not ready to completely kick my plan b habit, i'm going to try to limit my consumtion to once a week only, in the hopes that my digestive system will forgive me that small indulgence. in the meantime, i'll be sleeping soundly, dreaming of truffle fries all night long.
love always
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
celebrity sightings in assfuck, CT
(just so you know, i've been dying to post this entry for a week now)
okay, so, last weekend my besty, heater shows up at my house with this crazed look in her eyes
"we must go out and drink alcohol now please!"
this is a fairly common occurence druing the winter months in CT. you go stir crazy. it's too cold to leave the house so you stay inside for a few weeks and then all of a sudden something snaps in you and you stop giving a shit how cold it is, because you just have to get out there in the world and do something, which in CT during the winter, means drinking alcohol, because there's nothing else to do. i'm not even kidding you. it's like a bad horror movie.
so of course i agree to go out with heater, partly cause i love the bitch, and partly cause i can tell i'm on the verge of cabin fever myself. so we decide to do the unthinkable, something neither of us has done in years, something so desperately dangerous that to do so under normal circumstances would be foolish. we go to a keg party. in northford.
don't ask me where the fuck northford is. don't ask heater either, even though she drove us there. as far as i could tell we just ended up in front of this dude's house with heater's surrogate cousin nicky bristol.
the guy whose party this is, he's old. also, he's rich and so full of shit and coke that it's literally painful to listen to him speak. all he says is, "listen, listen, ok right, listen, this one time, listen, listen, ok, listen." and after about ten minutes of this we're like "WE'RE LISTENING! FUCKING SAY SOMETHING BESIDES 'LISTEN'!" so heater and i fake like we have to pee and run as far away from this guy as possible, which is when i lay eyes on him.
my dream boy.
i mean, literally, he is my dream boy because i dream about him every night.
and during the day, i daydream about him.
in short, he is the love of my life
EDWARD CULLEN!!!!!!!
yes, i know it's hard to believe that edward would be at a keg party, but i swear to you it was him. i could tell by his dreamy eyes and his bouffant hair-do. all i could think is i have to talk to him. so i fixed him with my infamous come-hither stare and of course, he came hither (they always do).
at first the conversation seemed to confirm my theory that he was in fact, edward cullen. he told me that he's a male nurse (edward would totally be a male nurse if he wasn't too busy stalking inncoent teenage girls) and that he played the piano. i was like omg! i must be dreaming! but then i asked him why he became a male nurse, and he said "well, i used to be a model. i mean, obviously right? look at me, i'm gorgeous. but then i decided that helping people is totally more important than being famous." and that's when i realized that he wasn't edward cullen. he was, in fact, a much bigger and better celebrity, the one and only derek zoolander. only he was disguised as edward cullen.
i know it, right? can you believe my luck?
as edlander is regalling me with semi-retarded, egotistical tales of his modeling days, heater jumps in and, being the lovably oberbearing bitch that she is, asks the question that's been on everyone's mind since edlander first proclaimed (rather loudly, i might add) that he was a male nurse.
"dude, are you gay?"
and at that point, my dream boy blurted out the most fantastical series of words i have ever heard spoken by antoher human.
"no, that would be a waste of my HUGE DICK" (yes, he really did say that)
over the course of the night he said many memorable things, such as
"what is up with you walking away from me to go to the bathroom. i've never hit on a girl and had her not be totally psyched about it. i have way too much pride to go chasing you around this party all night"
and also, when a drunkenly chivalrous nicky bristol decided to call him on the fact that he was being a self-absorbed waste of oxygen,
"why does this always happen to me. it must be because i'm so good looking"
at that point i took pity on the poor sould and gave him my phone number as like, a consolation prize for being the worlds biggest douchebag. also, because he sucks so bad it's funny, and i really wouldn't mind being seen in public with him. alas, he never called me. i'm crossing my fingers that i will run into him again, preferably when i'm drunk enough to not take him seriously, but until then i guess i'll just have to settle for getting hit on by normal boys.
love always
okay, so, last weekend my besty, heater shows up at my house with this crazed look in her eyes
"we must go out and drink alcohol now please!"
this is a fairly common occurence druing the winter months in CT. you go stir crazy. it's too cold to leave the house so you stay inside for a few weeks and then all of a sudden something snaps in you and you stop giving a shit how cold it is, because you just have to get out there in the world and do something, which in CT during the winter, means drinking alcohol, because there's nothing else to do. i'm not even kidding you. it's like a bad horror movie.
so of course i agree to go out with heater, partly cause i love the bitch, and partly cause i can tell i'm on the verge of cabin fever myself. so we decide to do the unthinkable, something neither of us has done in years, something so desperately dangerous that to do so under normal circumstances would be foolish. we go to a keg party. in northford.
don't ask me where the fuck northford is. don't ask heater either, even though she drove us there. as far as i could tell we just ended up in front of this dude's house with heater's surrogate cousin nicky bristol.
the guy whose party this is, he's old. also, he's rich and so full of shit and coke that it's literally painful to listen to him speak. all he says is, "listen, listen, ok right, listen, this one time, listen, listen, ok, listen." and after about ten minutes of this we're like "WE'RE LISTENING! FUCKING SAY SOMETHING BESIDES 'LISTEN'!" so heater and i fake like we have to pee and run as far away from this guy as possible, which is when i lay eyes on him.
my dream boy.
i mean, literally, he is my dream boy because i dream about him every night.
and during the day, i daydream about him.
in short, he is the love of my life
EDWARD CULLEN!!!!!!!
yes, i know it's hard to believe that edward would be at a keg party, but i swear to you it was him. i could tell by his dreamy eyes and his bouffant hair-do. all i could think is i have to talk to him. so i fixed him with my infamous come-hither stare and of course, he came hither (they always do).
at first the conversation seemed to confirm my theory that he was in fact, edward cullen. he told me that he's a male nurse (edward would totally be a male nurse if he wasn't too busy stalking inncoent teenage girls) and that he played the piano. i was like omg! i must be dreaming! but then i asked him why he became a male nurse, and he said "well, i used to be a model. i mean, obviously right? look at me, i'm gorgeous. but then i decided that helping people is totally more important than being famous." and that's when i realized that he wasn't edward cullen. he was, in fact, a much bigger and better celebrity, the one and only derek zoolander. only he was disguised as edward cullen.
i know it, right? can you believe my luck?
as edlander is regalling me with semi-retarded, egotistical tales of his modeling days, heater jumps in and, being the lovably oberbearing bitch that she is, asks the question that's been on everyone's mind since edlander first proclaimed (rather loudly, i might add) that he was a male nurse.
"dude, are you gay?"
and at that point, my dream boy blurted out the most fantastical series of words i have ever heard spoken by antoher human.
"no, that would be a waste of my HUGE DICK" (yes, he really did say that)
over the course of the night he said many memorable things, such as
"what is up with you walking away from me to go to the bathroom. i've never hit on a girl and had her not be totally psyched about it. i have way too much pride to go chasing you around this party all night"
and also, when a drunkenly chivalrous nicky bristol decided to call him on the fact that he was being a self-absorbed waste of oxygen,
"why does this always happen to me. it must be because i'm so good looking"
at that point i took pity on the poor sould and gave him my phone number as like, a consolation prize for being the worlds biggest douchebag. also, because he sucks so bad it's funny, and i really wouldn't mind being seen in public with him. alas, he never called me. i'm crossing my fingers that i will run into him again, preferably when i'm drunk enough to not take him seriously, but until then i guess i'll just have to settle for getting hit on by normal boys.
love always
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
i feel justified in my risque fashion choices
i just wanted to tell everyone that apparently, lace tights are totally in this week. i have noticed that the models on all my fave vintage sites (my mosted trusted source of fashionable inspiration) are sporting them. this makes me super-psyched because i actually own a pair of lace tights that are so ridiculously hot that jamie couldn't handle it and banned me from ever wearing them to work again.
love always
love always
Monday, December 15, 2008
why must YOU cry? i mean really, stop it....
i've been in kind of a rut lately. nothing too serious (although, i promise you, at times, it feels serious). just your typical quarter-life crisis, i-feel-like-i-sold-my-soul-because-i-work-in-a-semi-coprporate environment type shit. i've asked countless people about how i should go about fixing this, and everyone has answered in a typical fashion.
find a hobby.
the thing is, i have plenty of hobbies. i write. i collect vintage. i read with obsessive fervor, but these are all solitary things to do, and what i'm craving more than anything is a feeling of connectedness, of teamwork. so, i began scanning craigslist looking for a group creative endeavor. anyone who has ever read craigslist in connecticut knows that the majority of posts basically say "i'm looking for a teenage model to come to house so i can date-rape her" and for quite some time my search was fruitless.
then, i saw the ad for gold fangs (yeah, for real)
this guy had posted numerous times before searching for actors and actresses for a short film in my area. i had never payed attention for whatever reason, but the idea of gold fucking fangs was too much for me to ignore. to be honest, the fantasy going on in my head was somewhere between the never-ending story and interview with the vampire (because the twilight vamps don't have fangs).
so i sent out an e-mail, expecting to get a response from some dorky film student about the sci-fi fantasy flick he was creating. i figured that at the very least, i might be able to meet some hot nerdy boys whose virginty i could steal, but no, oh no, my life does not work that way.
instead i received an e-mail from reh dogg, who according to an article in our local newspaper, won some award for the worst you-tube video of the year. i can only imagine the fierce competition he was facing for that coveted title. after watching it though, i guarantee you, this man deserved it. (if you are in need of some serious lulz, go check it out, it's called "why must i cry)
then, reh dogg follows up with an e-mail inviting me to view some of his work, including the gold fangs movie which i was so damn psyched about. seriously people, words could not do it justice.
find a hobby.
the thing is, i have plenty of hobbies. i write. i collect vintage. i read with obsessive fervor, but these are all solitary things to do, and what i'm craving more than anything is a feeling of connectedness, of teamwork. so, i began scanning craigslist looking for a group creative endeavor. anyone who has ever read craigslist in connecticut knows that the majority of posts basically say "i'm looking for a teenage model to come to house so i can date-rape her" and for quite some time my search was fruitless.
then, i saw the ad for gold fangs (yeah, for real)
this guy had posted numerous times before searching for actors and actresses for a short film in my area. i had never payed attention for whatever reason, but the idea of gold fucking fangs was too much for me to ignore. to be honest, the fantasy going on in my head was somewhere between the never-ending story and interview with the vampire (because the twilight vamps don't have fangs).
so i sent out an e-mail, expecting to get a response from some dorky film student about the sci-fi fantasy flick he was creating. i figured that at the very least, i might be able to meet some hot nerdy boys whose virginty i could steal, but no, oh no, my life does not work that way.
instead i received an e-mail from reh dogg, who according to an article in our local newspaper, won some award for the worst you-tube video of the year. i can only imagine the fierce competition he was facing for that coveted title. after watching it though, i guarantee you, this man deserved it. (if you are in need of some serious lulz, go check it out, it's called "why must i cry)
then, reh dogg follows up with an e-mail inviting me to view some of his work, including the gold fangs movie which i was so damn psyched about. seriously people, words could not do it justice.
at a certain point i just had to accept that god is playing a cruel joke on me, but it's a good joke, and i have no choice but to keep laughing.
love always
Thursday, December 11, 2008
a moment of silence please
i feel that it's absolutely neccesary for me to pay my respects to the linguine bolognese at amici's. i order it every fucking time i go out to dinner there. the insane thing about it is that it tastes so good that i can't stop eating it, no matter how full i am. consequently, i always end up shitting my brains out the next day.
but, oh man, it is sooo worth it.
love always
but, oh man, it is sooo worth it.
love always
Monday, December 1, 2008
ignorance is bliss
"Pop culture is art. It doesn't make you cool to hate pop culture, so i embraced it."
thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. finally, someone in this world understands how i feel.
for real, i am getting like, sooo sick of all these artsy folk who think they're sooo smart raining on my parade of guilty pleasures.
and really, if all my guilty pleasures did get together and have a parade, then leading it, on a big, sparkly float, in bondage gear, would be lady gaga. please don't judge me y'all, i have an incurable disease that mkes me addicted to female pop-stars who produce music for an audience of 99.9 percent gay dudes (a la madonna). also, her album the fame reminds of what it feels like to all of a sudden realize that you're young and attractive before real life catches up with you and you have to like, put your drink down and go do work or something.
alas, my partying days are over, but it's comforting to know that if i ever do miss them all i have to do is bump some lady gaga on the way to my accounts and pretend that i'll never grow up.
love always
thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. finally, someone in this world understands how i feel.
for real, i am getting like, sooo sick of all these artsy folk who think they're sooo smart raining on my parade of guilty pleasures.
and really, if all my guilty pleasures did get together and have a parade, then leading it, on a big, sparkly float, in bondage gear, would be lady gaga. please don't judge me y'all, i have an incurable disease that mkes me addicted to female pop-stars who produce music for an audience of 99.9 percent gay dudes (a la madonna). also, her album the fame reminds of what it feels like to all of a sudden realize that you're young and attractive before real life catches up with you and you have to like, put your drink down and go do work or something.
alas, my partying days are over, but it's comforting to know that if i ever do miss them all i have to do is bump some lady gaga on the way to my accounts and pretend that i'll never grow up.
love always
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