lifestyle – Page 2 – The High Heeled C*ntessa

Catching Up – This Used to be a Food Blog…It still Kind of is

Annndddd … I just spilled hot coffee on this keyboard…. #WINNING!!!! <— This actually just about sums up my last two months, if not my entire life…

Despite the title of this blog, there isn’t really much to catch up on to be honest… the last two months have flown by at lightning speed, as all months tend to do once you’re over a certain age. I never believed my parents or grandparents regarding ‘how fast time goes the older you grow.’ It wasn’t until I hit about 25 that I began to experience this strange phenomenon first-hand. The last seven years are a blur, punctuated only by precious moments and mental stills – both good and bad – nights, sunrises, people, lessons learned, the highs and the lows; experiences and memories that I wouldn’t trade-in for anything else. I feel like the last seven years basically happened in the span of one or two.

I think we finally become our “true self” around the age of 25-26. Before this age, you’re still a kid and don’t really know what’s up, because you just haven’t lived long enough or experienced enough or even met enough people to shape you yet. I think our personality kind of solidifies by the time we hit 26 or so…. I still feel like the same person inside at the age of 32 that I did when I was 26. I guess this is also the sad reason that elderly people look in the mirror and are shocked by the reflection they see once they hit a certain age – because even though their body is betraying them by aging physically, they still feel not a day over 26 on the inside. Such is life. My mom always says that ‘youth is wasted on the young’, and she’s not wrong.

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This is 32. I figure I’ve only got a few decent years left in me before I start resorting to fillers (**if I can ever even afford them) and healthy living (i.e. green juices, yoga, no more partying, actual work-outs…). I’ve been wearing SPF all these years and avoiding the sun, so at least I have that going for me. It’s definitely hard being a woman and getting older though. I know we hear female celebrities saying this all the time… but it is SO SO true, and I’m not even technically “middle-aged” yet. There is so much pressure to not only stay young (literally impossible to do), but also to stay looking young (which takes effort and possibly money, if you have enough to spend on treatments, the best skin care, etc.).

Despite society telling us that as women, we are only valuable when we’re still young and attractive (and given how shitty that can make you feel inside once you start getting white hairs and fine lines), getting older is a blessing. I feel more confident and more grounded than ever. I know who I am and who I want to be, and I am less selfish and foolish than I was in my twenties. To grow older is a gift and an opportunity that many people will never have. So remember that next time you bitch about turning 30, or whatever age. Some of your peers didn’t get a chance to turn 30.

We all have this idea in our head when we’re younger, of where we will be at a certain age. When I was 25, I definitely thought I’d be married by my current age, possibly a home owner, and definitely working at a more fulfilling and creative job. Even if I am not where I once thought I’d be, I am happy to be where I am. Even with the outside pressure that is put upon me by others and by society, I am OK with where I am right now in this time and place. I sometimes feel like it is easier to grow older in a major city like NYC (at least up until a certain point), especially when you have failed to meet the stereotypical “milestones” set by society. If I were this age and living upstate right now (or in any small, rural town in America), I think I would be bored out of my mind, since almost everyone I know or went to school with is married and has kids now. I don’t think I’d have any friends to go out with or who share the same interests as me at this stage in life given the fact that I am unmarried and child free. I also feel like it would also be 10x harder to live in a small/rural town and be single at this age, since everyone is either married or divorced with three kids. Slim pickings for singletons for sure. Not really sure where this train of thought was going….

I think that what I’m saying, is that even though I ‘hate’ this city and want to move out someday sooner than later, this city has allowed me a chance to flourish as an individual and come into myself fully. This city does not put same pressures to marry and have kids on me that life in a small town might. I guess turning another year older has had me thinking of all of this recently….

I had a relatively low-key birthday this year – stayed in our favorite Airbnb in Woodstock and a nice dinner with my sister on my actual birthday. Tuna also celebrated his birthday (1st birthday, to be precise!) the day after mine. Here we are, together, basking in that birthday glory and, in my case, basking in copious amounts of sugar.

My friend made me this awesome funfetti cake… my favorite cake is, in fact, FUNFETTI :p Hell yeah boiiiiiii

IMG_8283 (1) — The view from the back-side of the Airbnb house… I would buy this property in a heartbeat, if only I had the $1.5 million it was just listed for LOL LOL LOL …. #FML

I was also spoiled with sweets at work – cupcakes and macarons. I am not being sarcastic when I say that I feel so loved when people go out of their way to get me food or presents for my birthday. I never feel like I deserve these things or the effort or thought that goes into them … it literally made my entire day, even if my skin paid the price for a full two weeks (major acne flair-up thanks to my diet of Cadbury creme eggs for breakfast, cupcakes and macarons for lunch, and funfetti cake for dinner for a whole week straight).

8591FF5C-E8B2-4046-A519-C198118F4612 — My For Love and Lemons for Victoria’s Secret dress/robe – totally obsessed and need more opportunities to wear it….

It’s been so long since I posted that I haven’t even posted this amazing dress/robe I got on sale at Victoria’s Secret. Who knew that one of my favorite brands, For Love and Lemons, did a special line of lingerie and clothing just for VS? I know VS is tres gauche these days, but fuck it. I get a gift certificate for VS every Christmas and it’s just about the only time of year I treat myself to overpriced underwear, etc.

EB851DDD-D094-4220-BCBC-A28672CC22C8 — Really feeling myself, as the kids today say….

As per usual, one of the only things that gets me through each work day or lonely weekend where my BF works a 12-hour shift on a Saturday, is planning what I will cook for dinner and then executing it. I’ve cooked some really time-consuming things in the last couple of months, including, but not limited to: homemade pasta, homemade gnocchi, Focaccia and French-style baguettes from scratch, and recreated the amazing shrimp etouffee dish that I had on my birthday at Maison Premiere.

I truly hope that Maison Premiere never closes their doors. They’re a Williamsburg institution at this point, serving oysters, cocktails, and a variety of raw-bar foods and plates in a cozy and cool atmosphere. If you live in the greater NYC area, I would highly recommend for a nice date or intimate dinner or drinks with a good friend/couple of friends.

Anyhow, I’m too fucking lazy to write out any recipes, but here is some food porn…. use your imagination and go wild:

Homemade gnocchi with shrimp in a white-wine/butter sauce

Homemade orecchiette – easiest dough ever… literally only flour and water (and a wee bit of salt)

The hand-made orecchiette, in all its’ glory

Orecchiette with pesto and baked zucchini chips

Some of the most delicious focaccia I ever had (not to toot my own horn…)

Mussels in white wine sauce, served with slices of the homemade baguette

700440A8-5DED-47F0-810F-DBB08958903C (1) — And finally, the pièce de résistance… my recreation of the shrimp etouffee from Maison Premiere. Literally tasted identical – the only difference is that the shrimp they used had the heads on, and I wasn’t about to fuck with that on a Friday night when I made this

I’ve been so bad at finding/making time to write food posts here these past couple of months. If you want to see the process and ingredients behind my recipes/meals, feel free to follow my Instagram (instagram.com/lilywhitedaydream). I usually post stories to my IG while I am cooking, as long as what I’m cooking seems note-worthy enough to warrant as such. I mean, if you’re even reading this blog, you probably already follow me on Instagram… since that’s the only way I think anyone can find this blog ;p Anyhow, I digress…

[Insert long rant here about the current state of world affairs, animal liberation v animal subjugation, why humans need to go extinct, why I want to get the coronavirus, etc.]

[Delete long rant, after realizing I sound like one of the preachy types of A-holes that I hate and realizing no one gives a shit… ]

Side note: I am a work in progress and actively working on my anger management skills.

The end.

Tips for Surviving A Recession

***DISCLAIMER***

I started writing this post like two or three months ago (I want to say right around Thanksgiving), before Australia had totally burned to the ground and before Trump decided to provoke Iran, thus destroying any chance we have at all for a future. Let’s be honest here, I don’t think humanity is going to make it another five years.

Since this post was initially written, the holidays have come and gone, the New Year has arrived, and I have decided to stop buying fast fashion, or any new clothes at all… yes, I will continue wearing the same damn shoes until I receive warnings from HR about how my foot odor is offending people at work.

I have also decided to become a vegan (not sure how long I can last without cheese or eggs, but I will try), and give up alcohol and other illegal substances. I am also going to try to be more consistent with this blog. Cheers, kids.

Daydreaming about Robbie Williams….

TIPS FOR SURVIVING A RECESSION (Blog entry from November, 2019):

I wanted to write this blog a few months ago when I started reading about another oncoming recession all over the news. I figured I have some viable tips for those of you who were too young to really experience the recession of 2008 firsthand, or those of you who weren’t affected the first time around (consider yourselves very lucky). I survived the great recession of 2008 – just barely though: I haven’t touched my student loan debt, I don’t own a house nor can I afford to, I work just to pay bills, I throw money to the wind each month, renting an apartment I will never own, and at this rate (and given a number of other extraneous factors such as global warming, imminent nuclear war / terrorist attacks at the hands of Iran, and societal collapse on the horizon…) I doubt I will ever have children. C’est la vie…. at least I’ve got my cats.

Anyhow, I’m currently sitting here browsing slutty clothes and 7-inch platform boots on DollsKill.com. Hey – life is short, and no matter what, I’m not going to be able to afford a house or kids, so I might as well purchase some cheap thrills while I’m still semi-young (not that I’m young) and decent looking (not that I am that either). I can honestly say I never spend money on lunch or coffee… I don’t even eat lunch. I think I deserve some frivolous party shoes once or twice a year to compensate. The press is always bitching about Millennials wasting money on Starbucks and avocado toast, but when you’re $50K in the hole with no future in sight, you kind of have to live in the moment and treat yourself to the tiny luxuries that you CAN afford. If we never went out for a night of drinks once every month, or bought a new winter coat we desperately need, our quality of life would be even more miserable than it already is, just trying to save and pay our bills.

I digress though. I graduated in 2011 when the recession was at its’ worst and the unemployment rate at its highest. The times were basically rock bottom in terms of available jobs/work. I have two worthless degrees in fashion merchandising and theatre. I still sometimes hate myself for not swallowing my pride and my passions, and just going to school for engineering or to become a doctor. At least then I would have a lucrative career. JK…. I would never. I’d rather continue to struggle and live paycheck to paycheck with enough time to still pursue some of my passions on the side (i.e. this blog, a social life, cooking, my cats, etc.).

When I graduated, and I’m speaking generally here, one was lucky to even find a part-time RETAIL job. I’m being serious. This isn’t a lie or exaggeration, kids. Even jobs that required no degree and minimal experience were extremely scarce and hard to come by. And finding a job in your own home town (if you came from a small, rural town)???? FORGET ABOUT IT. I started working at the Shiseido makeup counter at Macy’s, which was a 30 minute drive from my parent’s house where I lived after graduating. I got “lucky” (I use this term very loosely here… ) to have a friend who worked for Abercombie & Fitch as a manager and hooked me up with an interview there after I’d spent the summer of 2011 playing with makeup. I thought I’d scored big-time, because at least the job with Abercrombie required a 4-year degree, had benefits like a 401K and insurance, and paid time off. Little did I know, I was in for a real ride….

One day, when life affords me the luxury of no longer having to work a 9-5 day job, you can read all about my days with Abercrombie/Hollister on my old blog, which is currently incognito on the inter-webs. I had to make the blog private for the purposes of my current, corporate job…. since I didn’t hold back in terms what I wrote about or discussed online back then. I could write a book about my time with A&F/HCo., and one day I truly hope to do so…

Enough about that though. I eventually saved up a decent chunk of money and moved to NYC with no job lined up in the fall of 2012. This is where the struggle truly began, and how I learned to thrive (or just barley scrape by, rather) in the midst of the economy’s worst recession since the Great Depression of the 1920’s.

It took me three whole months to find a “job,” and then, the job I had was working only part-time at a night club/concert venue as a cocktail waitress and weekend hostess. I never knew if I’d be working 5 seated-shows a week (the most lucrative type since people would order food and drinks), or only 2 standing-room-only shows with an audience of underage kids (the least lucrative shows… obviously). My paychecks ranged from $120 on a terrible week (i.e. 4 dark days and 2 nights of hostessing) to $480 on a decent week, working 4-5 seated shows. Of course there were take-home cash tips, but those were usually spent going out for after-work drinks at the Irish dive bars on 14th street with my fellow co-workers, where we would commiserate over how little we’d made that night, how awful the crowd was, and how depressed and poor we were working at this shitty venue when the lot of us aspired to so much more in life (i.e. artistic endeavors, full-time employment… sugar daddies…).

My rent was only $650 when I first moved to NYC (don’t ask… I literally had the most baller apartment for what is the BEST DEAL ever heard of). My rent quickly increased to $800 after a couple of months, and then to $1,000 after a year. My fickle work as a server wasn’t allowing me to even make rent, so I swallowed my pride and went back to HCo. on fifth ave, working as a manager, where at least I had a consistent paycheck and health insurance.

Between 2012 and 2016 when I finally landed a decent job, were the toughest four years of my life, financially speaking. This is when I really honed in on my skills as a chef, learning how to survive on one bag of frozen peas a week and a handful of uncooked rice. I learned how to scrape together just enough money to pay rent doing whatever it took – whether it meant counting spare change, taking on babysitting jobs in the morning before working closing shifts at Hollister, or forgoing what most people consider household essentials, like coffee creamer, paper towels, and well…. food in general.

Given the current state of the economy, and the fact that things have been slow as hell for me at work in the last month or so, I’m growing nervous that it’s true that another recession is on the way. This time, I’ll be prepared though…. bring it on baby. Nothing can hurt me now. You know what actually makes me feel even more carefree these days? The fact that we’re probably all going to die in a nuclear war or from complete global destruction due to climate change before I ever even begin to pay back my student debt….

MY TIPS FOR SURVIVING A RECESSION

There is no such thing as job security. Never get too comfortable – it can be taken away from you at any time through no fault of your own. Never take your job for granted either, even though you hate it (we all do). You need money to pay rent and bills and to purchase enough food to survive and/or enough alcohol and drugs to make you occasionally forget how fucking shitty and pointless your life is. No job is permanent and any job can be taken away in the blink of an eye (usually when you least expect it to). You could be laid off if the economy tanks and your company can no longer afford your position. This happened in the last recession… workers who’d been with the same company for 25 years and were only 3 years away from retiring lost their jobs and their 401Ks. Pretty shitty, right? This is why I wake up each day with the fear of God in my heart. It’s better to be scared about losing your job then it is to be too confident that it can’t happen to you. It can happen to you, and living life with anxiety over job security simply prepares you for the worst. It happened to me once and it wasn’t even the recession. The start up company I worked for in 2016 tanked after five months and couldn’t afford to pay me. No notice… no nothing.
Girl, you better WORK. One does what one must to make rent and put food on the table. Even if this means selling yourself short of your credentials/qualifications/education/desired salary, or, in some cases, literally selling yourself (I’ve never done it, but I know girls who basically have sex with someone they’re not really into, in return for having their rent paid or fancy dinners here and there or like, a Mysterland ticket and nice hotel). I’m not saying this is noble or respectable, but sometimes desperate means call for desperate measures. If you’re young and attractive and don’t have a family to hurt, stripping is always an option too. In a major city it will definitely be much more lucrative than elsewhere, and people less likely to find out if you’re trying to keep it on the down-low. If you’re attractive and young, in fact, I highly suggest capitalizing on it while it lasts – because it doesn’t last forever. You might as well make a decent living off of what your mama (or your plastic surgeon) gave you. There are always ads out for bottle servers, hostesses, bartenders, etc., and in this city at the right venue, you could make a SHIT TON of money doing any of those service jobs. You don’t really need experience if you’re young and hot and/or know the right person. It’s also good to be flexible in tough economic times, and willing to do shitty work. I mean, if your standards are too high and the economy crashes, you’re not really going to survive if you’re not willing to do some less-than-savory jobs to make ends meet. For example, I cleaned houses and a church on a weekly basis at one point in college, because it was impossible to even find a part-time retail job. I’m not making this up. In 2008-2009, I cleaned a church rectory on a weekly basis, and then a few older ladies at church inquired about me cleaning their personal residences, and I did. It honestly wasn’t a bad job – kind of gross to clean someone else’s toilet and bathtub, but the money was decent and not taxed, and old people are generally very sweet and lovely to talk to. I would do it again. Hell, I would probably do it now, if someone asked me if I had availability to do so. Could always use some extra spending money…
Learning to live on a bare-bones diet. Have you ever cried because you’re so hungry and all you have in your house is some white rice and mustard? I have. Have you ever had to choose between buying paper towels to clean your counter tops, or some coffee creamer so you didn’t have to keep drinking your coffee black? I have. It’s all about priorities – and sometimes we think that we can forgo food, or at least eat minimally to save money, especially when we also prioritize thinness. Well, when your parents already put some extra money in your bank account but you used it to pay rent and then foolishly bought a couple of $5 vodka sodas at McKenna’s (because you don’t know how to tell your friends that you’re broke), and now you don’t even have $6 to buy a box of pasta and some Prego at the local grocery store, shit really hits home. You’re going to have to learn how to get creative with some frozen white bread and a couple of teaspoons of Parmesan or how to make a meal out of lentils, curry powder, and some frozen corn last you three days. On the plus side, you won’t have to worry about the next time that you can afford to get drunk and order a pizza at 2am, since you’ll likely be malnourished as fuck.
Interviewing: It’s not you, it’s THEM. Just because there isn’t a real availability of viable, living-wage paying jobs, doesn’t mean there won’t be hundreds of listed positions and interviews which you’ll desperately go, on trying to make something work. You’ll probably apply for jobs you have no interest in whatsoever, just because you need a paycheck: part-time retail positions at a shoe store that sells ugly clogs, a dog-walking position, a nannying position, even though you hate kids…. the list goes on. If you’re like I was (and still am), you’ll apply for and go on hundreds of interviews and you won’t get offered any of the positions, even though you are mostly likely A) qualified, B) experienced, or C) could easily do whatever is asked of you. I started to think it was me and beat myself up. I decided I wasn’t getting hired because I was too old, too ugly, too short, too fat, too nice, etc., etc.. I honestly probably wasn’t getting hired, because they were saving the position for the assistant manager’s brother-in-law who just graduated and wanted the job. Jobs go to those with the personal/family connections when there aren’t many jobs to be had. Don’t take it too personally or it will really wear away at your self-confidence.

Weekend Getaway Gone Wrong

THE BELOW WAS WRITTEN PRE-WEEKEND GETAWAY (11/1/2019):

I’m going upstate for two days starting tomorrow, and you’d think I was going on a three-week tour of Europe or like, staying on the beach in Bali for 10 days. That’s how excited I am. I feel like a child on Christmas Eve right now… waiting for tomorrow to arrive so we can pack up and get the hell out of here. I haven’t had two days in a row off with my boyfriend since the last week of August. In fact, I think we’ve only had one day off together in the last 15 days….

I don’t know if I’m more excited for myself or for my cats though – I know they love going upstate and being able to watch birds (other than city pigeons) and squirrels/chipmunks and taking in that fresh, upstate NY air. We had to split our stay between two places, because after we realized we could go away on Saturday instead of just Sunday, every rental was booked. It’s cool though – one of the guys we’ve rented Airbnb’s from before loves us and so we texted him and he gave us a great deal and told us we can stay in one of his houses that we’ve stayed in before! The cats are going to be stoked – so much more room to run and play, not to mention I can walk them around on the leash outside.

I am really so excited. I’ve been saying this all week – this is the only thing that has motivated me through another dull work week…. the prospect of getting out of this hell hole city, grilling seafood, chilling in a hot tub, walking around a lake, and just generally not seeing anyone other than my boyfriend, whom I legit haven’t seen all week due to our work schedules/sleep schedules. I am going to grill shrimp and fish. I’m going to drink wine in the hot tub and by the fire I build. That is all I need in life sometimes.

In other news, I went back on my regular birth control after being off of it for the last 10 months. I finally bit the bullet after 10 months of suffering in my own body, and decided that it’s worth it to spend $200 on a monthly prescription that used to be FREE with my old insurance. Fuck it. My sanity was at stake. I have been gaining 10 lbs in water weight every month… 10 lbs in like a week. That is NOT cool when you’re only 5’2″ with a small frame. My stomach has been unbearably bloated each month, and I feel like I have PMDD in the sense that I’m PSYCHOTIC before and during my period each month without birth control. I literally feel like the world is ending, I hate everyone, especially myself, and the 10 lb. weight gain that I can’t control (no matter how little/healthy I eat and how much I work out) sure as fuck hasn’t helped with my self-esteem or anxiety. I basically feel I’ve been living in a prison for the last 10 months… and that prison is my body. I have been hating myself and my body 2 out of 4 weeks each month and that is no way to live.

I’ve lost 5 lbs in the last two weeks that I’ve started back on Natazia again and finally feel like myself. I finally feel comfortable in my own skin again, well, apart from the severe breakout of cystic acne I’ve been experiencing since I started the pill two weeks ago. I have huge, painful, red and ugly cystic zits on my chin/jawline right now that haven’t gone away despite my best efforts. I haven’t touch anything greasy or sweet, I’ve been exercising and eating healthy. I’ve tried hot compresses, icing the cysts, tea tree oil, witch hazel, benzol peroxide, Prid’s Drawing Salve… you name it, I’ve tried it. I considered going to the dermatologist for a shot of cortisone (which is supposed to make zits of this nature subside within 24 hours), but since I am now committed to paying $200 each month for BC, I don’t really want to pay however much that would cost. I’m hoping these zits will go away once my body is used to being regulated by artificial hormones again.

I’ve also stopped drinking alcohol during the week. In the last month, I have only drank four nights, and all of those nights were Saturdays or Sunday. I feel so much better having cut out alcohol during the week. I was using it to kill boredom while I cooked since I’m home alone every night while my boyfriend works. I will admit, cooking is more fun while consuming a couple of glasses of wine. But I would always binge eat after a couple of glasses and then hate myself the next day. Not worth it. I also feel more rested, even though I still only average six hours of sleep a night. But six hours of sleep is a lot better quality sober than six hours of sleep after downing half a bottle of red wine.

The morning before heading upstate – feeling the best I’ve felt in months… minus the zit that has been lingering on my jawline for 3 full weeks now with no signs of subsiding. After the stress of last weekend I have a few more zits hanging out now too 🙂

FAST-FORWARD ONE WEEK (11/9/2019)…

Last weekend certainly was not the relaxing weekend I thought it would be. I really should have known better since this is usually how things in my life pan out. We had a beautiful day and night Saturday – the sun was shining on our drive there, we dropped the boys (cats) off at the house and went to the local grocery store to get provisions to make dinner. We had a couple of glasses of wine and chilled before we fired up the grill and made dinner. We also started up the nice little fireplace on the deck by the hot tub:

6BBE173F-6354-41D9-8EB7-B5CC36F2F018 — Tuna chilling on the couch

The cats were happy, running around the house and enjoying all of the space they don’t have here in the city. They liked looking out the many ground-level windows and watching us from inside when we used the hot tub later that night. Dinner was awesome and I was finally relaxing for the first time in a long time. We watched a movie and decided to go relax in the hot tub. Everything was going great until we finally decided to call it a night and head to bed around 3am. That’s when I noticed Mr. Peeper kept going into the litter box and scratching furiously around. I went to clean it each time he came out, and found nothing but a couple tiny spots of pee (usually there is a large clump of litter where he’s peed). I didn’t think too much about it, thinking maybe he was feeling nervous or territorial in the rental, but then when I climbed into bed and tried to sleep, he kept going into the litter box and scratching. I couldn’t sleep at this point, because of the noise he was making and because I knew something was wrong now.

I got about three hours of sleep and then the next morning I awoke to the sounds of Peeps in the litter box again…. he would go in and out every 10 minutes and was producing almost no pee. I started Googling and posted on my Persian Cat Health Facebook group. Naturally, these are two of the worst things I could do for my own mental health. Everyone who responded to my post told me to get him to an emergency vet ASAP because it could be a urinary blockage, which are apparently fatal in cats if untreated for as little as 48-hours. It was Sunday morning, I was running on 3-hours of sleep on what was supposed to be an enjoyable, relaxing, carefree weekend, and now I was convinced my cat was going to die. I started sobbing hysterically and researching 24-hour emergency vets in the area. We were supposed to move to the second Airbnb rental that afternoon and go to dinner at Peekamoose with my parents that night.

I called my mom crying and cancelled dinner plans since I didn’t know if we’d end up at the vet for hours or what was going to transpose of the current situation. Peeper peed a little bit, so I thought maybe the vet could wait until the next morning, but then he started laying in his box like this:

69B88634-9A5B-433B-BA39-6301826D5592 — Nothing in my life ever goes smoothly or as planned… I really should have known better.

I spent the rest of the day stressed as hell, and then feeling guilty for cancelling dinner plans with my parents, whom I don’t see nearly as often as I really should. I was now feeling like a terrible mother to my cat for waiting to bring him to the vet, feeling like a terrible daughter for cancelling dinner plans with my parents who I know were looking forward to seeing me and my boyfriend and looking forward to eating at Peekamoose, and like a terrible girlfriend since I couldn’t relax and stop fretting about my cat and just enjoy what precious little time we have off together.

We packed up our cats and bags and headed to the next rental early that afternoon. The next Airbnb was in Stone Ridge, NY and was pretty awesome with a fireplace and brand new renovations/appliances. The cats seemed to enjoy this rental more than the first, because there were a couple of chipmunks hanging out that they could watch through the windows. Poor Peeps was still using his litter box every 20 minutes though and looked like he was straining to pee, and leaving nothing more than a drop of urine behind each time, so I was still on level red anxiety.

Dinner at Peekamoose was awesome as usual, however, I was feeling guilty that my parents weren’t there and also extremely tired since I was running on no sleep. That night, my sleep was again interrupted by the sound of Peeper scratching in the litter box and yowling when he peed. I couldn’t take it anymore when I heard him go in at 4am, and so I got up for the day. We were able to get him an appointment with the local vet that morning shortly after they opened. I was preparing myself for the worst, and praying he didn’t have a blockage or something that would warrant surgery.

The local vets were really awesome and after an examination, determined he did not have a blockage. I was so relieved. He was prescribed antibiotics and an anti-inflammatory – they thought it was most likely a UTI or cystitis. Apparently when cats get stressed, it can trigger bladder inflammation… awesome, right?! WTF. I am thankful we were able to bring him to the vet upstate, because the cost also would have been double what it was in Ulster county if we had brought him here in Brooklyn.

I know I get crazy about my cats, but they are my kids. I don’t have kids to worry about, so I put all of my stock into my pets – they are my life and one of the few things that bring me joy in life besides the few other things I actually like in this world.

After my weekend upstate went awry, it didn’t take long before the rest of the week followed suit. I’m never ordering from All Saints again. I bought my boyfriend’s present from All Saints and it’s been nothing but a fiasco. It took a full week for the order to even ship, and that was after I called customer service multiple times to see why I hadn’t received a shipping confirmation yet. Apparently the distribution center was backed up, but like, why didn’t they give me a head’s up after the order was first placed? The order I placed on 10/29 shipped ON his birthday 11/5, when that’s the day it was supposed to arrive. Then, ONLY HALF of the order shipped! They said they couldn’t find the pants I ordered in the warehouse so they were checking stores to see if they were available there…. 4 more days went by without them telling me if they had in fact located the pants, and so today, I cancelled the other half of the order (the missing pants). Like WTF All Saints?!

After I cancelled the pants today, I got an email saying they couldn’t cancel the rest of the order, because there was another problem with the warehouse or something. Seriously? Fuck this shit. I used to love All Saints and have ordered from them in the past with seamless delivery, but this has been a shit show and more stress I don’t need in my life.

On top of all of this, our heat stopped working (always on the coldest days this happens). So for the past two days, we’ve been dealing with our shitty building management company (literally THE WORST company in all 3 states), and technicians coming to fix the heat who still cannot seem to fix the problem in the long run.

We finally said fuck it. It’s time to move. So now, you can also factor in the additional stress of apartment hunting and moving into my life. We are looking at an apartment tomorrow and trying to get all of our ducks in a row for a December 1st move. We’re not even going to tell building management. This apartment has been nothing but a problem since the day we moved in. Fuck them.

I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here. No wonder I’m breaking out all over my face! I never get a moment to just chill and be before another issue or problem rears its ugly head and I have to find a solution. LOL. I guess that’s life, right? Imagine how boring our lives would be if we didn’t have a shit maelstrom coming at us 51 weeks out of the year?! I’d be so so SO bored. JK.

Butternut Squash: Thai Curry Style

Thai-style red curry, with butternut squash used as the base… recipe to follow below

It’s Thursday night, which means I’ve just about reached my peak, maximum exhaustion level for the week (actually, the real pinnacle is usually Friday night after work… that’s when I really crash and burn…). I used to hear my mom say it, but Goddamn…. “there just aren’t enough hours in the day.” Seriously. I never even give myself enough time to unwind, exercise, sleep more than 6 hours a night, or even write this shitty blog, and I STILL don’t have enough time to do everything I want to do in a day (cleaning, exercising, writing, etc.). Work and chores and errands and taking care of the apartment, my cats, and everyone-but-myself seems to never end, and this is life without human children! I think I’ve been living in a state of perpetual exhaustion for the past three years, and it shows. I really need to start taking better care of myself, because these bags under my eyes are not cool. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, I feel like working a 9-5 office job has aged me way more than the irregular hours and sleep schedule I kept as a server or working retail ever did. At least then I seemed to be getting 7-8 hours of sleep each night.

Thank god tomorrow is Friday so I can sleep in the following day. I’ve turned into a drone who lives for the weekend… FML. Work was absolutely brutal last week – I was doing like 10 hour days and coming in early so I could avoid staying late each night, but that also means working through my lunch breaks instead of getting out for a walk and some fresh air. I fucking HATE sitting at a desk all day and not having time to walk or exercise. I feel like such shit about myself and my body when I am not moving or walking and still eating a ton of food. Some might think I’m joking, but I am definitely asking for a desk elliptical for Christmas this year. I think it will give me a better quality of life LOL.

I’m already thinking about Halloween and trying to make plans in advance so that I don’t end up staying in again. I always have the best costume put together, and the last couple of years I haven’t even worn it out. Such a shame! I love Halloween and dressing up and making costumes…. I live for that shit.

00/00/0000 – Marilyn Manson – – – Keywords: – Photo Credit: Photorazzi – Contact (1-866-551-7827)

This year’s inspo ^^^ I dressed up as MM once before and it was one of the years I didn’t end up going out. This year, I’m going all out….come hell or high water.

Anyhow… here is my recipe for a “Thai-style” aka, white-people, bastardized-version of curry, made with butternut squash:

A couple of notes:

Be careful cutting the squash, they’re really firm and you risk the knife slipping out and towards you if you aren’t careful
This is kind of time consuming since the squash takes a full hour just to cook in the oven, so you may want to prep the sauce/squash a day before you assemble the actual curry….

INGREDIENTS:

A variety of veggies of your choice (below is what I used):

1 medium-sized butternut squash
1 green zucchini, chopped into bite-size chunks
1 red pepper, cut into strips
1 green (bell) pepper, cut into strips
1 can of baby corn
1 can of bamboo shoots
1 package of extra-firm tofu, cubed
1 small jar of red curry paste (Thai Kitchen brand is great and sold most places)
1 can coconut milk
1 box vegetable stock
3 Tablespoons yellow curry powder
1 Tablespoon turmeric
2 tsp. granulated garlic
1 tsp. cayenne pepper (more or less depending on desired level of spicy)
1 tsp. red pepper flakes (more or less depending on desired level of spicy)
1-2 limes (*the JUICE from 1-2 limes)
1 bunch of fresh thai basil, or regular fresh basil
2 Tablespoons fish sauce (*** OPTIONAL *** I’ve used in curries before, but I did not use in this one)
3 cloves minced garlic
2 Tablespoons vegetable oil
Cooked white rice to serve (Basmati or jasmine work best)

DIRECTIONS:

Heat the oven to 400 degrees.
Cut the butternut squash in half length-wise (*** please do this carefully – it cuts with difficulty and you risk slicing yourself or the knife coming out if you’re not careful); gut the seeds and stringy pulp out from the center of your squash by scooping it out with a spoon.
Roast the squash at 400 degrees for 1 hour… test with a fork to see if tender:

The finished squash… yours more take more or less time depending on the size. Note the fork marks where I tested to see that it was soft enough to blend!

A couple of notes:

Be careful cutting the squash, they’re really firm and you risk the knife slipping out and towards you if you aren’t careful
This is kind of time consuming since the squash takes a full hour just to cook in the oven, so you may want to prep the sauce/squash a day before you assemble the actual curry….

INGREDIENTS:

A variety of veggies of your choice (below is what I used):

1 medium-sized butternut squash
1 green zucchini, chopped into bite-size chunks
1 red pepper, cut into strips
1 green (bell) pepper, cut into strips
1 can of baby corn
1 can of bamboo shoots
1 package of extra-firm tofu, cubed (OR… raw, peeled shrimp, OR…. sliced chicken breast, etc.)
1 small jar of red curry paste (Thai Kitchen brand is great and sold most places)
1 can coconut milk
1 box vegetable stock
3 Tablespoons yellow curry powder
1 Tablespoon turmeric
2 tsp. granulated garlic
1 tsp. cayenne pepper (more or less depending on desired level of spicy)
1 tsp. red pepper flakes (more or less depending on desired level of spicy)
1-2 limes (*the JUICE from 1-2 limes)
1 bunch of fresh thai basil, or regular fresh basil
2 Tablespoons fish sauce (*** OPTIONAL *** I’ve used in curries before, but I did not use in this one)
3 cloves minced garlic
2 Tablespoons vegetable oil
Cooked white rice to serve (Basmati or jasmine work best)

Your squash will need to roast 50-60 minutes depending on its size…. notice the fork marks where I tested to see that this was cooked through!

DIRECTIONS:

Heat the oven to 400 degrees.
Cut the butternut squash in half length-wise (*** please do this carefully – it cuts with difficulty and you risk slicing yourself or the knife coming out if you’re not careful); gut the seeds and stringy pulp out from the center of your squash by scooping it out with a spoon.
Put the squash face-up on a roasting pan, and rub the face-up side with olive oil; roast the squash at 400 degrees for 1 hour… test with a fork to see if tender:
Once the squash has cooled down enough to handle, use a spoon to scoop out the orange fleshy part into a blender or food processor.
Add in about 2 cups of the veggie stock or enough liquid that blending will be possible (I know my blender has issues mixing everything if there isn’t enough liquid).
Once you’ve blended the squash to a creamy and uniform texture, dump the mixture from the blender into a large saucepan or soup pan/pot and turn the burner to a low heat.
Add in the entire jar of red curry paste and the entire can of coconut milk.
Add in your spices (granulated garlic, turmeric, curry powder, red pepper, cayenne, etc.)
You’ll most likely need to add more veggie stock at this point, as the curry will be way too thick. My squash was huge, and therefore resulted in a lot of curry once it was blended…. the mixture was way too thick and I ended up adding the rest of my veggie stock.
The curry sauce should be a nice, thick consistency, but still viscous in nature…. it should not be straight-up puree, nor should it be too soupy and watery.
Add in the lime juice, the fish sauce (if you opted to use it), salt to taste, more pepper or seasoning as necessary, and some hand-shredded basil leaves (a nice handful).
Remove the sauce from the heat and set aside or put in the fridge if you’re planning to use later.
In a wok or large sauce pan, heat the vegetable oil over a low heat and get your fresh chopped veggies and minced garlic on deck (the canned veggies, like the corn and bamboo shoots, do NOT need to be sauteed with the raw veggies)
You’ll want to sautee your veggies and garlic at a medium heat for only a few minutes, as they will finish cooking in the curry sauce and you DO NOT WANT THEM to be over cooked and soggy (gross).
Once you’ve sauteed the veggies and garlic, add in the curry sauce and continue to cook over a low heat.
This is the point where you can add in whatever canned veggies you’re using, like the baby corn and bamboo shoots, as well as the TOFU.
Taste the sauce and add more seasoning to suit your tastes (you may want to make it hotter with more pepper, add a bit more salt, or a bit more lime juice for some zing).
Serve over cooked rice and garnish with a bit of fresh basil!

The curry sauce – the squash has been blended with liquid at this point, and simmering on the stove with the addition of all of the seasonings, paste, coconut milk, and more veggie stock… you might want to roast the squash/make the sauce a day in advance since it’s very time consuming

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This one was a hit… I will definitely be making this, or variations of this, throughout the coming colder months! Apart from the coconut milk, it’s also pretty healthy 😀 Or, at least that’s what I told myself after eating half a wok….

Climate Change and Lentil Bolognese

90 degrees on the first day of Fall… global warming is a real bitch…. I finally bought some sweaters and tights and I’m still wearing sleeveless button-ups. I remember when I was young, we were lucky if it was 65 degrees this time of year!

I want to plan a world-wide work strike against climate change – I’m just not sure how to get started. Imagine the reduction in carbon emissions even if only just for one day, if the majority of people (or ideally all people) took the day off of work and didn’t use their car, and if factories couldn’t operate because they had no workers?! I should take some tips from Greta Thunberg and just start solo-striking all alone… I’m pretty sure I’ll lose my job in the first week…

I was home this past weekend (well, Thursday-Saturday…) to get Tuna neutered. The cost of the vet upstate is about 1/3 of what it is in the greater NYC area. Totally work taking a couple of days off of work (I mean, what isn’t worth taking days off work???). It was also nice to be home with just my parents and to enjoy some end-of-summer weather.

Beautiful goldenrod everywhere… I love this time of year when everything turns shades of mustard and gold

My parents and Max walking out of our woods

I’m so happy I finally bit the bullet and took the days off to make the trip home and get Tuna neutered. At least it’s done and over with now and he is pretty much back to normal.

If you want to see more pics of the cats or of Tuna in his Handmaid’s Tale cone, here you go: instagram.com/peepsandtuna

Because I can’t post a picture of one without posting the other (that would make me a bad mom…), here’s Mr. Peeper at his finest

This probably won’t be here in the next 20 years if global warming continues unabated

Pictures never do real life or lighting justice sadly. I cleaned out my closet a couple of weeks ago and found so many things that I bought with every intention of wearing in a specific outfit, and which have never seen the light of day. The below tutu skirt is one of them…. I know tutu skirts are very SJP circa 2000’s Sex in the City, but It makes for some pretty fun outfits:

Paired with my fave Hello Kitty Sweatshirt

My favorite escape in Brooklyn – Greenwood Cemetery …

I made a really good vegetarian Bolognese with lentils last week, the recipe of which is based directly on my classic Bolognese recipe:

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Here is the recipe:

INGREDIENTS:

3 cups of cooked lentils (brown or French) (roughly 1 and 1/2 cups dry lentils cooked in 3-4 cups of veggie stock, for flavor)
1 box pasta of your choice (rigatoni, spaghetti, penne, linguini all work great)
1/3 cup olive oil (enough to coat the bottom of a large sauce-pan)
2 large carrots, finely chopped
2 stalks of celery, finely chopped
1/2 of a white or yellow onion, finely chopped
4 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
1 cup dry, white wine (Pinot Grigio works well!)
1 cup freshly shaved Parmesan (plus more to sprinkle over finished pasta)
1 large can of San Marzano crushed tomatoes
1 small can of tomato paste
fresh parsley
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 Tbs. dried basil
1 Tbs. dried oregano
1 tsp. red pepper flakes
1 tsp. granulated sugar
1 tsp. granulated garlic
Salt and pepper (add to desired taste)

DIRECTIONS:

Pre-cook your lentils, boiling in veggie stock until tender (but not over-cooked or mushy, since they will finish cooking in the sauce!)
Set aside the lentils once cooked, and heat the olive oil in a large sauce pan over a low-medium heat
Add in onions and cook until a yellow-y translucent color (about 6 minutes), stirring occasionally
Add in carrots and celery and continue to cook over low-medium heat, stirring occasionally for another 5 min.
Add in garlic and continue to cook and stir, being careful not to burn garlic
Add in the already cooked lentils and cook for a minute over low-medium heat.
Add in the white wine and simmer for about 3 minutes
Add in the can of crushed tomatoes along with the granulated garlic, sugar, salt, pepper, dried basil and oregano, and crushed red pepper; stir together and reduce to low heat
Add in the small can of tomato paste and stir in thoroughly; continue to stir and cook over a low heat.
After cooking over low heat for another 10 minutes or so, add in the heavy cream and stir
Add in the Parmesan cheese and continue to stir and cook, making sure cheese is incorporated into the sauce

Add in the fresh chopped parsley and stir
I advise taste-testing as you go along to ensure the sauce has a good balance – feel free to add more salt, pepper, pepper flakes, oregano/basil, or sugar if needed
Let the sauce continue to simmer over minimum heat and boil a large pot of heavily salted water for the pasta
Cook pasta according to cook time advised on packaging; once pasta is cooked to al dente, drain and either add to sauce pan, if large enough, or back to pot and then add the Bolognese sauce into the pot of pasta – stir well
Serve in bowls with freshly grated Parmesan over-top and a garnish of fresh parsley or fresh basil!

This dish is perfect for fall… super hearty, tasty, comforting and high in fiber (if you know what I’m saying….)

Mushroom “burger” (aka, mushroom patty?) I made last night

Too lazy to write another recipe. Cheers.

A Short Story – Written Dec 2013

Once upon a time in the land of a million hopes and a billion lost dreams, there lived a small, fragile girl with big, icey-grey eyes, icey-blonde hair, and enough falsely contrived charm to captivate and entrance even the coldest of hearts. She turned heads walking down the street, turned heads on the subway, and was never at a loss for dates out at the expense of whatever boy she was currently letting pursue her. She lived with her boyfriend of five years in a tiny apartment in the East Village, and regularly cheated on him in the hopes that one day, one of the dudes she was fucking on the side would provide her with the break she had been waiting for since she was 18. Her boyfriend, an aspiring musician, was consistently faithful and saving money wherever he could in the hopes that he could one day provide his girl with the life he believed she deserved. He worked three jobs to pay the bills, take her out to nice dinners whenever he had a night off of work, and put money in his savings account for the engagement ring he was planning to buy her for their upcoming anniversary. He was madly in love, and blind to her true nature, despite the fact that his closest friends saw right through her and regularly warned him as to their suspicion that she was not faithful in the least and a manipulative and conniving bitch.

The girl was an aspiring actress who just couldn’t get a break. She busted her ass waiting tables and doing bottle service at hot club where she was regularly hit on by New York’s finest douche bags, and often met the guys she let take her out and slept with in return for favors. She was a slut in the most basic sense of the word. While her boyfriend was up all night working at the 24/7 diner around the corner from her apartment, she could either be found flirting and dancing with an older gentleman getting bottles at the club where she worked, or out on the town at another club, grinding on some other old dude in return for lines of blow in the VIP section. She didn’t really feel much at all these days- it could have been from the years of rejection and having her hopes and dreams of becoming a star on the silver screen shot down time and time again, or it could have been from the grade A cocaine going up her nostrils on a nightly basis…either way, she was numb and lived her life in a blurred haze of drug use, alcohol consumption, and rich men that gave her what she wanted as long as she was hooking up with them. She had learned years ago how exactly to shut off her feelings. She couldn’t remember the last time she cried, and she couldn’t remember the last time that she was truly happy without the aid of synthetically manufactured drugs or the thrill of a ride in some investment banker’s hot car. There was no real punctuation, just a daily routine of sleeping late, working a little, and partying hard, the same routine day in and day out was growing old, just as she was growing old, and life as she new it was growing old.

Once upon a time, she had been sweet and her charm had been genuine. Once upon a time, she had also been madly in love with her boyfriend, the way that he still loved her even now. Once upon a time, she never could have fathomed falling so far from grace and cheating on him, she never could have fathomed nights of doing free lines in return for a BJ in the men’s room. Now, as she stood on the corner of 14th street on a busy Saturday in Union Square where she was going to meet with her agent to discuss an upcoming independent film she was going to be featured in, something triggered her memory. As she stood waiting for the light to turn, cars and cabs and bikes buzzing by in a flurry of movement, she stared into space and remembered the very first time she had stood waiting to cross the street when she was going for her first consultation with her current agency. She was a different person then; her dreams were so high, her standards were higher. She was hopeful and not run down. She thought with her heart and her mind, and she wasn’t fueled so much as she was now by her desperate desire for fame and wealth. These were the days when she didn’t give a fuck about being able to skip the line at the hottest night club, these were the days when she didn’t even know what a Birken bag was. The days when her grey eyes weren’t ice cold, but warm and sparkled with that brilliance that can only be seen in the eyes of someone who is pure of heart.

The crowd of people around her started to move forward across the street, and she awoke from her daydream and began to cross too without looking either way. As she stepped off of the curb, a rogue bicyclist clipped her and she jumped back and gasped in shock…. “Jesus Christ, watch where you’re fucking going!” she screamed after the mexican delivery boy whom simply turned his head to look back on her before he sped off down the street.

After her meeting, she went home to chill for the few hours she had before she her next appointment- a date with a 42 year old financial analyst who wanted to take her to dinner and out on the town in his sick Mercedes SUV. She was sitting on the couch watching re-runs of Sex in the City, when her boyfriend came in the door, fresh from rehearsal with his band. “Hey Babe, how was your meeting?” She turned to look at him, a vile look of disgust taking over her otherwise pretty face, “Take your fucking shoes off Jimmy, Jesus! I am tired of cleaning up after you, I’m not your mother!” she said, and then went back to staring at the tv. He leaned over to unlace his converse. “So, are you working tonight? If you aren’t, my friend is playing a show at the Rosewood- we should go.” Again she turned her gaze from the tv and looked at him, the same look of disgust coming across her face, her grey eyes cold and steely, “I fucking told you- I work EVERY night this week…. I go in at 9.” “Oh, Excuse me for not remembering your schedule on top of my own…” he said as he opened the fridge and scoured it for an readily edible piece of food to fill the hole in his stomach after another long day.

Later that night, as our main character was getting ready for her ‘date’, she found a baggie of coke she had stashed away in her underwear drawer. She looked behind her to make sure the bedroom door was closed and that Jimmy was occupied with his computer. She unscrewed the hidden coke spoon pendant that hung around a gold chain on her slender neck and did a bump before placing the rest back under her collection of lacy thongs and heavily padded bras. She put on her highest heels and took a look at herself in the mirror. She stared at her own reflection; her eyes seemed dead despite the cat-eye eyeliner and metallic shadow she had used specifically to make them stand out. She puckered her lips to apply a final coat of lipgloss and ran her fingers through her hair. She thought about the fact that she was no longer 20 years old, and the late nights of partying hard were slowly beginning to take a toll. The appearance of fine lines on her forehead and the dark circles she so expertly concealed under her eyes were a tell-tale sign of her frequent drug use, lack of sleep, and constant stress she felt at hiding the fact that she was regularly hooking up with other dudes all whilst trying to keep these secrets from getting to the attention of her naive boyfriend, who now sat playing Call of Duty. “Fuck the Chanel bag, I better ask for botox and collagen injections later… ” she said to her reflection before she turned to walk out the door. “Will you be home late tonight?” her boyfriend asked without looking away from the tv, “I can wait up and make you your favorite mac and cheese if you want.” “No, I might spend the night at a friend’s house since she lives right next to the place where I have that audition tomorrow.” I’ll call you when I’m out of work though.” She turned to walk out the front door as Jimmy called after her, “I love you, make sure you have someone walk you out of work, I don’t like you leaving the club with so much money on you alone.” “I will- see you tomorrow.” And with that, she closed the door behind her and ran down the three flights of stairs to the street below where she expected her date to be waiting.

She looked around for the matte black SUV she expected him to be waiting in. She got out her phone to send him a text and was looking down she heard a horn beep. She looked up as the SUV pulled over to the curb. She put her phone in her pocked and smiled as she headed over to climb into his car.

FAST FOWARD THREE HOURS….

She is drunk now, has already made three trips to the ladies room to blow lines of coke that her date happily provided her with, and is again staring into the mirror to reapply her lipgloss. As she puckers up and pulls out the wand, she hears a group of girls behind her snickering and turns around to see what they’re laughing at. One of the girls in the group- a tall, model-thin brunette stops laughing long enough to look her dead in the face and say, “Whore.” She puts away her lipgloss and and walks out back into the blaring music and dark of the club. As she approaches the table where her date has a bottle set up, she sees another girl sitting next to her date with her long legs draped over his own. She panics at the sight of this as her heart begins to race. “WTF?” she thinks to herself as she decides to turn around and walk away. “Fuck him, I’ll find someone richer and hotter to go home with.” She sees a promoter she knows from the club where she works and joins his table, smiling and dancing with a martini glass in her hand. He gives her some molly, and she gets even more fucked up than she already was. Her heart is racing and despite the fact that she is sweating profusely, she continues to dance. She climbs on top of the couch with a bottle of Chandon in her hand, and takes a sip from the bottle as she gyrates and moves in sync with the heavy base of the blaring house music. She feels her body overheating as she sways to the music, but she doesn’t care. Fuck it- nothing matters anymore. She takes another swig from the bottle, and looks back over at the table where her date is still sitting, the same skinny bitch still draped over his lap. He makes eye contact with her across the crowd, and she takes another swig of champage. Suddenly the world starts to close in and everything around the edges goes black. She attempts to sit down, but it’s too late. She collapses onto the bench, spilling champagne everywhere. She is dead.

All About My Cats… and Maine

Sunset behind our hotel, the Newagen Seaside Inn, Boothbay Harbor Maine

I am back from my “grand” vacation of the year… a week in Maine with my family and boyfriend. It was relaxing, as was to be expected, way too full of eating (also to be expected) and not nearly a long enough escape from the hell that is my job and this wretched city (also, to be expected…). What vacation would be long enough though? Apart from a permanent vacation….

Lobster bake at the hotel… one of the best parts of Maine for me is the abundance of not just lobster, but all seafood – especially chowders. I FUCKING LOVE chowders.

I didn’t do as much physical activity as I had hoped to do prior to embarking on my vacation. The hotel had bikes to take out, but the roads surrounding the hotel were not at all conducive to biking as there was no shoulder on the road at all. I also thought the hotel would have kayaks, but sadly all they had were some pitiful rowboats, which I conned my boyfriend into taking out with me one afternoon. We didn’t last more than 40 minutes in the row boat, as the waves around the island we were attempting to skirt around got very choppy on one end, and the oars kept slipping out from the oar holders.

Naturally the one time I took the row boat out the tide was going out and the waters were getting rough… it was still fun. I love being on water, or in water, as long as it’s above 90 degrees.

Boothbay Harbor itself is a sleepy little town with not much to do besides eat, drink, and relax… or go boating. Which is precisely what we did. We took a chartered sail boat out one day as a family which was really nice. We also walked around the little town and explored the shops and restaurants. I’d have to say, my favorite meal of the week was honestly at the local Italian restaurant, Ports of Italy. Who would have thought that a coastal town in Maine would have such a good Italian restaurant?! Not me. I had the frutti di mare, and this amazing cold seafood salad as an appetizer. Everything was awesome, including the wine. My second favorite meal, was probably at the hotel’s dining room on the last night of our stay.

Mussels everywhere! I ate a lot of mussels while I was in Maine…. I’d have to say they’re my favorite mollusk besides oysters.

View from the sail boat… the captain and his first mate were very knowledgeable of the area, the history of the area, and very friendly and hospitable sailors! I would definitely take another sailboat with the Schooner Eastwind again.

More mussels… and a whole lot of butter.

There was also an alpaca farm near the hotel, where my niece, my sister and myself got a lovely tour from one of the owners and learned a whole lot about alpacas and agriculture! They also had some beautiful chickens that I was obsessed with spotting each and every time we passed their farm in the car.

We made a day trip to Freeport to hit up L.L. Bean’s and the outlets… I got some sweet plaid pants from Calvin Klein that I am VERY excited to wear this fall. I’ve been looking for plaid pants for the last year, and these are JUST what I was looking for. My other “big” purchase for myself was a copy of Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential, which I cannot put down once I pick up to start reading. Sadly, my work schedule and demanding cats have been preventing me from picking it up more than I would like this week….

My boyfriend and I also took a drive to downtown Portland to explore. Portland is such a nice, clean, small city with a lot of awesome bars and restaurants. We are planning on going back for a long weekend stay this winter to do more exploring and see just how much worse winter in Maine could be than in NYC.

On our way back from Portland, we checked out a suburb called Cape Elizabeth, which had a surprisingly awesome park that we explored. I was disappointed to find there was no beach though – just a bunch of rocks. The rocks were beautiful, but I am sad to say I didn’t don a swimsuit once this vacation to either get in the pool, hot tub, or ocean. I didn’t go to the beach even once this summer… now that is sad.

I know… I know… I basically take the Instagram/fashion blog shots of others that I would hope they could take of me. Sadly, no one ever takes good candids of me. They get me when I’m looking down and have five chins, or from some weird angle where my body looks like Jabba the hutt. I just know people’s angles… what can I say? I mean, even the shot of the alpaca up above is flattering.

B951B3FB-570C-4FC5-8C4D-E547E19D5B73 — As you can see, the fake tan from my last post is long gone, and sadly not coming back anytime soon. I did, however, acquire plenty of freckles on my face, shoulders, and arms.

I milked my vacation for all it was worth, and scheduled a hair appointment when I came home for some red low lights (I’m going white in my temples, and color is now a necessity if I don’t want to look older than I am), and continued eating like a fatted calf for the remainder of the weekend spent in Bainbridge (you name it, I ate it… I did resist meat however, which I am very proud of). I cooked a mean carbonara for my parents upon returning home Friday night, and then on Saturday night, feeling inspired and not wanting to let the trend of devouring seafood die, I made a linguine with clams for family dinner.

When I came back to NYC, fatter and broker than ever on Sunday evening, I entered into a dark vortex of negative thoughts and resentment towards this city and towards my job, which I am still trying to turn around. I have to get out of this city as soon as I can… I’m just so over it. I also started resenting my choice to get low lights… I think the red is too dark and doesn’t flatter me. But that could just be me being me. I am hoping the color fades/lightens in the next couple of weeks. I’m trying to eat healthy this week, so sadly, I won’t be cooking anything fun.

Ah yes, almost forgot – the second part of this blog: while I was bored out of my mind one night on vacation (since the entire town of Boothbay Harbor shuts down after 8pm, and even the hotel bar was dead after 9pm), my boyfriend and I somehow came up with human profiles for each of our cats, which continued to escalate in absurdity until I wrote the full biographies on Sunday to post on IG. If my cats were humans, here is the type of humans they would be:

MEET TUNA:

Tuna is a door man at a strip club in Queens. He isn’t allowed at his uncles or grandparents house for the holidays because he was caught stealing Christmas ornaments off the tree to sell for cash to buy meth. He spent his high school days in remedial math classes and detention. When Tuna comes home, his parents have to lock up their medications. He usually shows up to family dinners with a 6-pack of Budweiser, and a half-eaten box of Enntemmen’s powdered donuts. Tuna enjoys tailgating at high school football games, fixing dirt bikes, dabbling in psychedelics, and fights at dive bars. Tuna’s idea of a perfect vacation is a week at Water Safari. Tuna’s greatest aspiration in life is to own a worm farm and grow magic mushrooms, as well as to make it to the Trump 2020 rally in Cincinnati. Tuna is a Dooms Day prepper who keeps a stash of ammo, AK-47s and ramen noodles in his parents’ attic. Tuna has a girlfriend named Crystal, who is five months pregnant with another man’s baby… but he doesn’t care, it’s true love. Tuna prefers to be called Chip.

MEET MR. PEEPER:

Peeper is a professor of anthropology studies at University of Oxford. He has a Ph.D. in law and women’s studies from Harvard. Growing up, he was the pride and joy of his parent’s lives – he was a straight-A student, Eagle Scout, and spent his summers voluntarily de-worming orphans in underdeveloped nations. He speaks 5 languages fluently and works as a volunteer, teaching deaf children Cantonese. He enjoys wine tasting, oil painting, baking clotted cream scones, throwing elaborate dinner parties, and donating money to Harvard and Yale science departments. He was also a good friend of The late Jeffrey Epstein – for 10 years they ran a mathematics camp for underprivileged teenagers. When Peeper isn’t working or volunteering, he enjoys traveling to the Cayman Islands, South Africa, and to his winery in Provence. He is married to a woman 25 years his junior, and together they have three perfect, little globe-trotting protégées named Theodore, Eloise, and Amadeus who are all geniuses.

Cacio e Pepe with Scrimp, and More Meditations on Life

DAA08436-7164-40A5-87FA-D702572E6343 — This dish truly was a perfect 10, by my boyfriend’s accord, and by my own accord… which really says something since I’m usually full from taste-testing by the time I sit down to eat whatever I’ve cooked… I wanted second and thirds

Tomorrow is Thursday (actually it’s going to be Thursday in about 30 minutes), so that means I have almost made it to vacation. I cannot wait to have a full week off of work… I haven’t had more than a few days off since last summer when I went on an *almost* three-week vacation.

I cannot wait to be off work, first and foremost. Being out of the city and in Maine is secondary. Is that sad?! Probably. I just really cannot wait. I don’t want to do anything I don’t want to do (I will be on my own schedule, I will not be conned into eating breakfast (I don’t do breakfast, darling), or even worse, conned into eating a breakfast at 8 a.m.). Life is about to be so good for 7 days.

I’ve been off and on fake tanning for the last week or so. I did a heavy application of St. Tropez self bronzing mousse last weekend and loved the result, but then went to my friend’s house where I marinated in a hot tub all night, and as a result, lost the entire tan.

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As you can see, there is always some discoloring on the palms and around the ankles, but for a redhead who is pale as fuck and doesn’t tan…. it’s totally worth it to have a few splotches. I get so jealous in the summer when every single person is tan as fuck – everyone looks better tan! You automatically look thinner and your muscles look more defined when your skin is darker. However, I must admit that I feel self-conscious walking around in broad daylight with my fake tan, because I feel like I look orange (like Donald Trump orange) and people are staring at me. Than again, it could all just be in my head…. I don’t know.

I do know the tan photographs well, but that might be about it. I also know my legs look way better in shorts when they’re tan and/or orange. It makes it hard to choose between the lessor of two evils… white and bruised, or fluorescent orange and thinner…

Anyhow! I cannot wait for Maine. I am going to go sea kayaking, and biking, and eat seafood chowder, and just fucking relax. It’s really hard for me to relax….

I cooked this awesome Cacio e Pepe on Monday night, with shrimp on top. I was inspired by an Italian food blog I follow on Instagram, although I couldn’t locate the post again to share here. The recipe that follows is my own, made-up version, as the blog I follow doesn’t post recipes.. only pictures.

INGREDIENTS:

Pecorino Romano (whole wedge/block which you’ll grate a full cup of)
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano
1 box farfalle (the Italian term for pasta “bow ties”)
1 egg
1 lb. fresh or frozen shrimp
Fresh basil leaves
1 lemon
salt and pepper
garlic salt
pasta water (water taken from pasta pot)
2 Tbs. butter
1/3 cup olive oil

DIRECTIONS:

Peel and rinse shrimp (thaw first, if you’re starting with frozen), and then chop into fine pieces and set aside in small bowl

Squeeze juice from one lemon over onto the shrimp, and add some salt and pepper to taste, along with 2 Tbs. olive oil; mix together and set aside.
Put on a large pot of heavily-salted water onto high heat and bring to a boil (for pasta)
While the water heats up…

FOR THE SAUCE:

In separate bowl, add 1/2 cup Parmigiano-Reggiano, grate in 1 full cup of fresh Pecorino Romano, add one egg, 1/4 cup olive oil, and a GENEROUS amount of black pepper (1 Tbs. plus some)

Whisk the above mixture together until thick and uniform – set aside!

Once the water is boiling, add in the box of pasta and stir occasionally
Boil pasta for recommended length of time (according to instructions on box)
BEFORE YOU DRAIN THE PASTA, ladle out 1/2 cup of pasta water using a measuring cup or ladle, and pour directly into your sauce mixture and whisk IMMEDIATELY until uniform!

Whip it real good… or rather, whisk it real good

Drain the pasta and add back to pot and place over lowest possible heat setting, stir in the sauce, remove from heat, and set aside

You would have an amazing Cacio e Pepe at this point if you wanted to call it a day and/or you don’t want to cook or don’t actually like shrimp… the shrimp just brings it to another level of heavenly-ness and makes the dish look better

FOR THE SHRIMP:

Heat 2 Tbs. of olive oil over low heat in a saute pan
Add in shrimp and stir around until cooked through (shrimp turns orange when cooked)… DO NOT over cook. Since the shrimp is chopped so finely, it should only take a couple of minutes max.

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Plate your pasta, and top with a couple spoonfuls of shrimp
Chop the basil and sprinkle fresh basil on top to finish

Update: I stopped writing last night because I was too tired to finish the recipe. It is now Friday at 12:19 a.m. and I have only one more work day until I am home free and on vacation. Hallelujah!

I have a great idea for my next blog… how to survive a recession from someone who has already been there and done that. I have the ultimate tips for surviving on no money, minimal food, and the stress of being in a recession without a steady job or paycheck.

Stay tuned fam.

Triggered: A Political Rant & I saw Korn and Alice in Chains

Here’s a picture of the lovely cheese pizza I ate on Sunday, before I launch into a tirade about the state of this nation and you wonder why you’re ready this “food” blog

Here is a picture of my Sunday evening vino at Huckleberry Bar, where I relaxed for a couple of hours before the real world kicked my ass on Monday morning. You’ll probably need some vino yourself after readying this blog….

#TRIGGERED Usually I HATE when people say they’re “triggered,” but tonight, it’s the only way to describe how I am feeling based on everything that’s going on in this world and out of my control.

It’s 11:05pm on a Wednesday night in August, 2019, and I am already worrying about the outcome of the 2020 presidential election. If Trump wins a second term, I am seriously convinced the entire government is rigged by the 1% (I mean, we already know it is, but…still….). I cannot continue to live in this nation as an American citizen, a nation that has become a disgrace among all of the other developed nations since November 2016. My cat’s a$$hole would be a better president than Trump at this point in time. Furthermore, Lord knows, that in the year 2020, America is still not progressive enough (and certainly MUCH less progressive than we were even 10 years ago) to elect a woman as president of the United States. At this point in time, I’m strongly Bernie or bust. This country needs tax reform, gun reform, free health care, and better/free education for the masses. We need someone who will lift of us up out of this dark spiral into which we’ve been dragged down for the last several years.

The whole Jeffrey Epstein scandal has made me sick to my stomach and furious since he was re-arrested back in July, and even more so since he “killed himself” last weekend. I’ve been following this scandal since the first time he was convicted back in 2008. I usually don’t believe in conspiracies, but I am quite certain that Epstein must have had the dirtiest of the dirt on a ring of high-profile pedophiles running our own government as well as others (hello Prince Andrew and Mohhamed Bin Salman… looking at you). Dude was clearly murdered before he could spill the beans and create more issues within our government. The government is the reason he got such a light sentence back in 2008 in the first place (Alexander Acosta…. all of the high-profile, government pedos involved back then).

I’m also sickened by the treatment of refugees and those seeking asylum or a better life for themselves and their families in this nation. It’s a damn shame that in the year 2020, in America, our government is tearing innocent families apart, jailing both children and parents in deplorable conditions.

The government corruption, together with the ever increasing threat of destruction of environment and wildlife due to humanity has really brought me to a breaking point tonight. My boyfriend just got home from work and told me he thinks Donald Trump will win a second term and it’s lit a fire I haven’t felt in months. I am not being far-fetched when I say that I will have to pull a Hunter S. Thompson in the event that Trump is re-elected. Either that, or I will have to move to Venice and live with my boyfriend’s parents, with or without him. I can’t stay in this country that’s falling apart at the seams if there is no hope for the future.

I already assume we’ll all be dead, or at least in the midst of societal collapse, in the next 10-15 years given the impact of global warming, extreme weather, crop failure, destruction of top soil, plastic pollution, mass migration due to all of these factors, water shortages, etc.. I can’t just stay here as an American citizen and watch what used to be one of the greatest nations in the world with the most civil liberties slowly be ground into complete destruction beyond redemption by greedy corporations, corrupt government, and absolute ignorance and neglect in terms of saving what we have left of the natural world. Instead, we have been turned against each other, the country has once again become rife with racism and sexism due to our esteemed leader and anti-right propaganda, we have to fear being shot as we go about our daily lives, not by ISIS, but by home-grown, white, domestic terrorist psychopaths…. this is no way to live.

Meanwhile, people keep eating factory-farm raised beef and processed chicken nuggets, throwing around plastic, and spraying chemicals on their lawns, with their phone in their hand 24/7, more concerned about the latest episode of the Kardashians, or with some celebrity’s tweet, than about taking what small steps they can to help save the Earth before it’s too late. I am not perfect, FAR from it. But at least I am AWARE and I am TRYING to help in whatever small way I can. I saw some 10 year old girl throw a plastic bottle on the sidewalk yesterday and I almost lost my shit on her, but I knew her mom would have words with me/kick my ass if I reprimanded her child. THIS is the world we live in… this is why people pollute and this is why people don’t give a fuck… they aren’t taught to care.

Anyhow…. before I self implode, let me pour myself a glass of wine to take some of the edge off and focus on something pleasant. Like food. Also, music.

I went to see Korn and Alice in Chains last Wednesday and they were everything I hoped for and then some. Both bands honestly surpassed my expectations and Jonathan Davis of Korn was much hotter than I expected. Oh, and somehow we were front and center!!!!! Not sure how that happened…. but it was fucking awesome:

Jerry Cantrell… up close and personal…. I can die happy now.

William DuVall – current lead singer of Alice in Chains. Alice in Chains is one of my favorite bands and they sounded as good live as they do recorded… I am so happy we made the trek to Jones Beach for this concert

Jonathan Davis in a kilt… that’s hot. Also, this security dude is legit in every picture and video I took since I was in front of the stage… LOL.

I’d have to say, apart from the perfect concert (and this one actually was PERFECT – right up there with NIN and Soundgarden in 2014), the other highlight of the day was getting back to NYC at 12:30am and getting empanadas at Empanada Mama on the Lower East Side because we were starving.

HOLY SHIT… if you haven’t been to Empanada Mama, you MUST GO. Maybe we were starving from walking around all day, slightly drunk, and exhausted. But damn, those empanadas were delicious and inspired me to try my hand at making my own the next day. They have this one empanada that is off the hook called the “Viagra”. It’s stuffed with shrimp and imitation crab and its beyond. I have to go back to Empanada Mama soon. The best part? They’re open 24/7! Despite being open 24/7, it’s pretty nice inside with lots of seating, a full bar, good lighting, and decent decor.

IMG_1361 (1) — The Viagra empanadas were so good that when I woke up the next day, I was craving more and attempted to recreate them at home!

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They turned out pretty good! Not nearly as good as EM, but good for my first try and for making the dough from scratch. I kind of want to get a part-time job at Empanada Mama so I can learn their secrets!

Last night, I made a vegetarian “sausage” and mushroom fettuccine dish, that was so good it fooled my boyfriend into thinking it was actually real meat (he had no idea it was a ‘veggie’ sausage).

I’ll write the recipe for this one tomorrow. Hopefully I won’t be feeling as triggered then. LOL.

INDIGO WOKE UP IN MYKONOS

If you’ll recall from the last installment of Indigo Wren, Indigo landed in Ibiza, made the drug transaction, got his money, checked into a five-star hotel and lived his best live for a couple of days. He ran into his arch-nemesis/love of his life, Lily Von Fustenburg at a club, and ended up on a yacht sailing for Mykonos. They had another falling out after Indigo saved her from an attempted sexual-assault, after which he took a handful of Xanax he found in the bathroom to pass out for the remainder of the trip…

Indigo woke up from his Xanax-induced slumber about 16 hours later… as usual, he was parched as fuck, didn’t remember where he was, or what had happened. He was still lying face-down, naked on the bedroom carpet, with a puddle of drool under his face. Once again, he did not know whether or not he had been sexually assaulted. He figured he was safe this time, since he had locked the bedroom door behind him.

Indigo dragged himself to a sitting position and tried to remember what had transposed between running into Lily at Amnesia two nights ago, and waking up on the floor of a moving yacht. His head was pounding from being dehydrated, and he was finding it hard to piece together the events of the last 36 hours. He wanted to cry, but he was too fucking dehydrated to even produce tears. He would have killed for a cold Gatorade and a couple of lines of the good stuff at this moment, but he had neither. FUCK. For the first time in a while, he was really lonely and he was really sad. He wished he was back home with his parents right now, or hanging out with a friend on a sofa somewhere in Williamsburg. Life was hard for a rolling stone.

What Indigo really need most right now, was a hug. Sadly for him, there was no one available to give him one. His parents were across an ocean, and they didn’t even know where he was. He had basically pushed away every real friend he had with his behavior and drug use, and all of the “fake friends” (aka party friends) were only around when there was fun to be had – they didn’t actually care to check up on him and see how he was doing. He felt so completely alone and wretched. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to live a life without drugs. Maybe, he wouldn’t find himself in these predicaments quite so often.

Indigo realized the room he was in came fully-equipped with speakers and an Echo Dot. He put some Incubus on to play, and he sat and listened to the lyrics of Brandon Boyd. As he meditated on his life, listening to Brandon Boyd croon out “Wish You Were Here”, he realized that he didn’t need drugs to be complete. He thought about Brandon Boyd, who seemed to have his shit together – he was fucking hot, thin and ripped, healthy, and didn’t seem to party or do hard drugs. Dude looks like he smokes mad weed, but that’s about it. Indigo considered all of these things. Maybe he too could live a clean and sober life style; go on a Paleo diet, get ripped, make music… write poetry…. he too could be an honest, artistic, and emotionally-deep man. “I don’t want to do drugs anymore. I want to be sober and feel real feelings. I want to experience emotions instead of suppressing them into nothingness – into blackness. I want to feel a natural high where there is no comedown… I’m so done chasing temporary highs and pleasure, and feeling like shit about myself the next day. I can’t live this way anymore.” He thought about all of it – about his life, sobriety, how fucked up his existence was…. how all of his friends were married and owned houses, and had kids… he thought about turning it all around and making an honest man out of himself.

But, honestly, what do you feel if you don’t feel high? Think about it for me. Think about it NOW. Do you feel happy? Do you feel fulfilled? Do you feel relaxed and in control of your life? Maybe you actually do. Indigo never felt these things when he was sober. When Indigo wasn’t high, he felt a plethora of feelings and emotions, none of which were good. He usually felt stressed and/or anxious, he always felt bored and restless, he usually felt sad and depressed and contemplated the meaning of his existence and of humanity. He didn’t like to feel these feelings, and that’s why he continually sought out drugs. Drugs were his only escape from reality and an escape from the prison that was his own mind. The only time he felt OK sober, was if and when he was in a relationship and had butterflies in his stomach because the relationship was new, or like, he was in the midst of an orgasm… those were the only natural highs he knew. I digress though….

Indigo turned off the music, he got himself dressed and went out on deck to see what was up. He would never be like Brandon Boyd. He was honestly more like Jim Morrison – a total, drug-addicted mess of a person. Except Indigo wasn’t 27 anymore, he wasn’t rich or hot, he wasn’t a rock star or a musical genius, and he didn’t have a following of millions of fans. Whatever – he was himself at least. He wasn’t pretending to be anything he wasn’t, and that is honorable enough.

He could see land in the near distance…. he estimated that they would be docking within the next 40 minutes. Indigo needed to think of a game plan and he needed to think of one quickly! Despite the pleasant thoughts of sobriety he’d had only minutes prior, he decided his best course of action was to use his last few hundred drug dollars to grab a drink once he landed, and then check out Lindsay Lohan’s club and secure some blow. He surmised he could just stay up and out all night, and then sleep on the beach to save money. Who needs a hotel when you’re on an island where it’s warm and never rains?!

He ran back to his cabin and packed the few articles of clothing he had, then brought his satchel with him to the bar for a couple of stiff drinks before embarking onto land. Naturally, he slammed back a couple of shots of Wild Turkey. He was ready to roll!

He stealthily bolted down the ramp and onto dry land as soon as the yacht docked in Mykonos. Indigo decided since he didn’t have a phone, he should really catch up on current news since he’d been checked out of reality for several weeks now; he was starting to worry about his parents worrying about him. Indigo walked around until he spotted a couple of American frat-boy type tourists whom he then approached and asked if they knew of any local sports bars. They pointed him in the direction of Blu Blu, and so he trekked across the island in the ballz-hot 101 degree sun. He stopped at a bank along the way to exchange his currency. When he finally reached Blu Blu, he was soaked in sweat and in need of water. He sauntered into the dark bar and took a seat in one of the lounge chairs facing a large-screen TV. He ordered a water and a bellini and tipped the waiter generously. He requested that they kindly switch the TV from the soccer match that was playing to BBC or any international news station… he also asked them if they had a contact to find blow, ever so nonchalantly, of course. The waiter consented because he’d been tipped well and there were only a couple of other customers who didn’t seem to be watching the game. He switched to CNN, and then looked through his phone and gave Indigo his coke contact. “Tell him you’re a friend of Stamos, and ask for the “special feta salad” *WINK*.

Indigo needed to sort out his priorities, so naturally he texted this Stamos fellow first. Next, he slipped his bellini and watched CNN. Ahhhh, how comforting it was to hear some American accents! It was at at that moment, as Indigo read the current news banner on the bottom of the screen that he saw his own name: “NEXT UP: THE SEARCH FOR INDIGO WREN CONTINUES….” At first, he didn’t think this could possibly be him… after all, his given birth name was actually ‘Jonathan Arthur Willard II,’ then again, he had been going by Indigo Wren for the past 20 or so odd years….

Indigo snapped his fingers for the waiter, “Sir, please turn up the volume!” he yelled, as he stood up and inched closer to the TV. A very HOMELY photo of him (pre-anorexia and really bad hair cut) took up the screen. At that moment, the screen panned-in to a very somber-looking Anderson Cooper (whom Indigo had secretly lusted after for several years), who then introduced the parents of a missing American citizen, known by the name of ‘INDIGO WREN.’

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT BALLZ… FUCK ME IN THE GOAT ASS!!!,” Indio shouted for all to hear. Indigo was in shock… his jaw dropped open, as he realized he was THE missing American Citizen, and his elderly parents were live on CNN begging for information of his whereabouts and safe return.

Anderson Cooper then proceeded to interview his elderly, mid-western parents, Ingva and Jonathan Arthur Willard Sr.. His father was crying, and holding on tightly to Indigo’s white, Persian, one-eyed cat, Mr. Pickles (more on Mr. Pickles in just a moment…)

Anderson: “Mrs. Willard, when was the last time you heard from your son?”

Ingva: (strong Norwegian accent, sobbing) “The last I spoke to my boy, he had started a new job with the MTA, and he was so excited to finally be employed full time and have health insurance… I don’t know why he would leave a job he was so excited to start. Our precious Jonathan Arthur has been such special, caring soul since the day I gave birth to him. He wouldn’t just leave without telling us where he was going; someone must have taken advantage of him.”

Anderson: “Mr. Willard, do you suppose there are any plausible places he could have gone?”

Mr. Willard: “Well given the time of year, I suppose he could have gone to Burning Man, and he did really liked this one bar in Chelsea called ‘Raw Hide’… he would talk about that place all the time.”

Anderson: “If your son, or anyone who knows where he is, is currently watching this, is there a message you have for them?”

Mr. Willard: “Son, just come home. We won’t be angry no matter where you are or what you’ve done. Mr. Pickles needs his daddy”.

CAMERA PANS IN TO A ONE-EYED MR. PICKLES, WHO LOOKS PATHETICALLY AT THE CAMERA LENS, AS THE MUSIC CUTS TO “ANGEL” BY SARAH MCLAUGHIN

It is then that Indigo went into such shock that he fainted at the bar.

Indigo woke up to Stamos slapping his face with an ice-cold, wet towel. Indigo opened his eyes, and his first words were, “Hey man, can I borrow your phone for a quick international call?” Stamos said, “sure, but it’s gonna cost ya’.” Stamos requested an additional 50 euros on top of the 80-euro gram of blow he’d secured from his dealer, Artemitis. Indigo forked over the cash and dialed up his parents using Stamos’s phone. The phone went straight to voicemail, since his parents were still at the CNN studio with Anderson Cooper. Indigo left a distraught voicemail which simply said: “Mommy, Daddy, I’m coming home to Mr. Pickles…. I love you all… kiss my baby for me.”

After that, Indigo made his way to the men’s room to do a couple of lines and set his head straight. He looked in the mirror at his beautiful, emaciated, tanned frame and hysterically started to cry…. “who have I become? My strangest friend? Everyone I know, goes away… in the ennndddd”

Indigo thought about poor, sweet, Mr. Pickles. He had stolen Mr. Pickles on the last morning of a three-day drug binge, from another socialite friend he used to have, named Annabelle de Barcelona. Mr. Pickles was already basically neglected, apart from the hired help that fed and groomed him. He had never had real love though. Indigo was high out of his fucking mind one morning, when he decided to change all of that. He wanted to be Mr. Pickles Daddy, and give him unconditional love for the rest of his cat life. Indigo didn’t even have to sneak Pickles out of his friend’s house, since she was knocked out, face-down on her own floor. He simply tucked Pickles under his arm, and made his way out the door that fateful morning, as the sun was rising over Manhattan, and made his way back to Williamsburg on the L train with Mr. Pickles in tow. Once he arrived home again, he proceeded to do copious amounts of molly, and then passed out on his couch, with several lines of MDMA laying on his coffee table.

Unfortunately, as he slept, Mr. Pickles licked several two lines of molly, apparently having a grand-mal seizure, and going blind in one eye. When Indigo woke from his slumber at 9pm that evening, he realized Mr. Pickles had a white, cloudy eye, and a hump in his back. Indigo was inconsolable having realized it was his own gross negligence that had caused this sad state of affairs. He couldn’t couldn’t forgive himself and punished himself by not eating and not drinking for a week straight. He vowed to better Mr. Pickles life in whatever ways he could, and that is why, 2 years ago, he surrendered Pickles to his parents so that Pickles could live out the remainder of his days on a farm in Iowa.

Indigo did a couple more lines to try to forget all of these bad memories, and then decided it was time to leave this bar. Indigo thought for a moment. “I’ve got to get home to Mr. Pickles and my parents… they need me and they miss me.” But then, he also thought, “holy shit, all of America has seen my face,” and so, in a moment of clarity, he thought “this is my only chance to get famous.” Indigo walked back out to the bar, ordered a spicy margarita, and started chatting with the bartender. The bartender mentioned that Lindsay Lohan had started filming a reality TV show with MTV involving her nightclub. Indigo had a brilliant idea – he could get famous by showing up at LiLo’s club while they were filming as the “missing American man” and totally steal the show! He decided to take a couple of shots of Jameson for gumption, and then called a cab to bring him to LiLo’s club.