Lost in New York

Montalcino at night – such a beautiful little town. I never wanted to leave.

Vacation was beautiful and I never wanted it to end… but here I am, back in NYC. Back to work, back to everyday reality in a city I have outgrown. New York is a young person’s city, or a rich man’s city. It’s not a good place for a person like me at this time in my life. I feel empty and lost here. I have a good job, but it’s not what I want to be doing. The few things I liked about this city when I was 26 don’t exist anymore. The nightlife isn’t what it used to be, the parties aren’t what they used to be, the places aren’t what they used to be, and neither are the people. I don’t know why anyone would ever want to raise a kid here, unless of course they were rich… but even then….When I moved here at 24, I thought I needed to be here in order to achieve artistically, whether it was writing or painting or whatever. Clearly, the entire world is now connected through online media, remote work, and no one really needs to be in one place to do what they love or achieve what they want with their career (unless they’re an actor or a musician maybe… but even then…this just ain’t it, kid).

When I walk the streets, there are only remnants and relics of the past that I once enjoyed and for a short time loved. Now, I walk the streets and instead of daydreaming about a future or life in the city, all I daydream about is being somewhere else. I day dream about Europe, a slower lifestyle, a smaller and cleaner city or even a small town in the countryside or mountains. I daydream about a relaxed pace of life, dinners with family and friends, clean air, a house with a view. This city has made me tired and sad.

Tonight I walked past a couple of baby/children’s boutiques with adorable winter sweaters and high-quality stuffed animals on display in the windows. It hit me that I am never going to have a kid. When I was in my 20s, I thought for sure one day I would have a kid, but now that I’m 34, I’ve realized it’s just not happening. I don’t feel sad about it; it’s my decision, after all. It’s just weird to walk around the neighborhood where I spent so many days walking around and hanging out with my then-infant niece and my sister, who was three years younger than I am present-day, back in 2012. My how the times have changed in these past ten years. How the city has changed; the world has changed. Not for the better.

I grow more jaded and cynical each and every day I am forced to live in this city. Maybe I would have had a kid if I’d been married by 30, and before the current state of world took a turn for the worst. Now I realize that to have a kid would be more selfish than NOT to. It just seems unfair that the world made my decision for me. If there wasn’t a war happening, daily threats of nuclear holocaust, and another climate catastrophe every day, perhaps I would have been happy to have a kid.

Happiest when we aren’t in NYC or working

I am engaged now… finally, after 9 years as a couple. I likely won’t be married for another 2 years. I am in no rush – I mean I waited this long, didn’t I?! My family certainly seems to be in a rush; they keep expecting that I will have the wedding next summer (which is only 10 months from now). Not happening, sorry. Although, perhaps I should have it next year, because because who knows how things will be two years from now (given the current political climate, war, nuclear threats, global warming, and advancing age of all of our parents). Maybe this world won’t even exist next year….

Beautiful Venice…my second “home” (I guess I can say that now…). I love this city and would be happy to live here. Maybe some day soon…
My beautiful ring… designed by my boyfriend with artist/jeweler/genius William Llewellyn Griffiths (metalcouture.com); the ring is modeled after the Palazzo Ducale in Venice… I guess it was worth the nine year wait….

I am lucky that I live where I do, as opposed to so many other places where life would be much worse off right now. This world is falling apart … I try to enjoy every day now, for what it is. I try to enjoy every day that I have to work, once I have some free time to myself and the work is done. I try to enjoy every weekend day I spend alone, even though my boyfriend is working – there are pleasures to be found in being alone. You never know what each new day may bring, whether that something is good or bad. So it is best to just enjoy each day as it is, even if it is not ideal. If these last few years have taught me anything, it is to appreciate the little things in life and the (hopefully good) people that you have in your life.

I could go on and on about vacation. I feel incredibly lucky and fortunate that I was able to take such a great vacation. I feel fortunate to have the boyfriend I have, the family and friends I have, and the in-laws I have. I am lucky to have all that I have in this life, even though I bust my ass for most of what I have… I am fortunate that things have somehow come together over the last five or so years to get me to the point that I am at today (not that most days aren’t still a struggle, but at least I’m not contemplating suicide as I do three nights of floor-set at Hollister every month and wonder how I am going to afford a dinner out for someone else’s birthday).

Instead of going into depth writing about my vacation, I’m just going to post a shit ton of photos that sum it up. We started in Venice, traveled to Tuscany with his parents for a week, hit up multiple wineries and medieval towns while we were there (Siena, Montalcino (the town closest to our lodging), Montepulciano, Pienza, etc.). My in-laws went back to Venice when we departed Tuscany, but we made several stops: Modena to see not one but TWO Ferrari museums, a night and a day in Milano (more on that later), and then we spent a night in Lake Como because we just weren’t ready to go back to Venice yet. It was all so fucking amazing, words cannot describe.

San Marco… never gets old
I decided to wear my Aniye By Sex Pistols “God Save the Queen” on the worst-timed day possible. Later that day there was news the queen was ill and family was flying in, by that night she had passed away.
view outside of our suite
The sun setting
View from Capanna wineries: Montalcino is the little village up on the hill
Capanna winery was across the road and up the hill from where Capanna Suites is located. The terrain in this part of Tuscany (only 25 minutes from Siena) is so much drier than the region (Chianti) where we stayed last year, which is about 20 miles from Florence… it’s crazy how much the terrain and scenery changes in Italy!
Montalcino at night: so quiet and peaceful
A winery that was part of a castle – just up the road from Capanna Suites where we were staying.
View from the upstairs of the castle where we did a wine tasting
Piazza del Campo in Siena
View from Agriturismo il Colle (aka Giovanni’s) where the proposal happened 🙂 This is in Chianti region and where we stayed last year – hence Giovanni’s willingness to help stage the perfect proposal. It was a dream…
View from the amazing Enoteca in the medieval village of Montepulciano… I’ve never seen anything like it (the enoteca, that is), although many friends said they had something similar in Chicago, South Beach, even Utah… LOL. Here is the website so you can see what I’m talking about: Enoliteca Consorzio Vino Nobile
Another stunning view from Montepulciano… the views were just!!!!!!
One of my favorite cars in the Modena Enzo Ferarri museum… anyone want to buy for my next Christmas present? Along with lessons to drive stick-shift? :p
Duomo di Milano
Ancient arches in Milano – this area gets wild at night with everyone drinking at local bars and hanging out here

I wasn’t a fan of Milan – even though we were only there for 24 hours. The hotel we stayed in was cool – very modern with lots of fun art pieces and installations. It was also super close to the city center, which came in handy for me, since I spent a day alone wandering around Milan, while Christian got a tattoo by a famous Italian tattoo artist he was able to book last minute (don’t ask – I already had my ring at this point, so if it made him happy… whatever). I did 9 miles by myself that day, and realized that I could never live in Milan. The city is a mix of very old and very modern structures – it is almost similar to NYC in that sense, but obviously much cleaner and prettier. All of the women are emaciated (and I am not lying). Most of the women also seemed to be under the age of 30… I saw mainly students and young people while I walked around that day. But, of all the women I did see, old, young, middle-age… they all had some serious eating disorders. Like, most of them looked like they needed to be in the hospital… and I am NOT exaggerating. I felt like such a cow next to these women…. and I am not a big person. I don’t think I saw a single woman/girl who weighed over 95 lbs. I get that it is the fashion capital of the world, but holy fuck. My ego took quite a blow that day, and I couldn’t really enjoy food for the rest of the trip… I’ve never felt so fat in all my life as I did walking around Milan that day. I was really happy we decided against spending a second night in Milan and decided to drive to Lake Como, since it is only about 1.5 hours from Milan, and Christian had never even been, despite having lived in Milan for several years! It was worth it:

View from the restaurant where we had dinner
The little hotel we found on Lake Como was a fraction of what we would pay even for one night at an Airbnb in the Catskills, and right on the lake! The restaurants were all within walking distance, and the hotel and pool were so pretty… too bad we didn’t have time for a swim

Before we ended up in Milan and then Lake Como, we had briefly entertained the idea of spending the last few days of our vacation in Greece. It just didn’t make sense to waste another day spent traveling or buying plane tickets just to spend 48 hours or less in Greece, when our time with Christian’s parents and friends in Venice is already so limited each time we are there. We decided to just go back to Venice so that we could enjoy the rest of our vacation and see his friends and spend more time with his parents. We made it out to Lido not once, but twice this time… both nights were a lot of fun… maybe too much fun. Thank God Lido now has electronic rental bikes, because when we were ready to leave each night, there were no Ubers to be had and we needed to get back across the Island to catch the ferry back to Venice proper.

Pic taken on the ferry to Lido one night
Pic taken on the ferry to Lido the second time we made the journey out – which happened to be the last night of the annual Venice Film Festival
View of the beach from the back of Hotel Excelsior Venice Lido Resort
On our way back through Venice after Lido one night, I snapped this pic of the moon
I got an official Venetian resident ferry card (that I paid a small fortune for), so I can now take the Gondolas and ferry at reduced, local rates…I feel so cool haha
I love seagulls
Leo di Venezia: the city’s symbol is everywhere
Night time in Piazza di San Marco
I wish I could see this more often

I could post a million more pictures and tell a million more stories. I wish I never had to come home… apart for being reunited with my babies (my cats) and seeing my own family. I hope that some day very soon we can live in Italy or France… or somewhere else close by, where life doesn’t move at the pace of NYC and every moment doesn’t pass by in a blink of the eye the way life does here in New York.

I’ll leave you with the food highlights from the trip (since that is what this blog was/is supposed to be about):

Raw appetizer plate I had the last night of vacation in Venice
Venetian cicheti (cicchetti): there is nothing else quite like it… it’s literally my favorite thing to eat/do in Venice (drink $4 glasses of wine and hit up all the best cicheti spots)
Some awesome oysters we had at Bancogiro
Seppioline (cuttlefish) on baked polenta, a stuffed artichoke heart and various polpette (fried meatballs)… this is cicheti from one of our favorite spots: Sepa
Duck breast from a restaurant in Montalcino where we ate our last night in town… it was divine
Romantic pizza dinner right on the water from our night in Lake Como
I had so much steak tartare while in Tuscany – it’s one of the region’s signature dishes and happens to be one of my very favorites. Yes: I ate all the meat in Tuscany… no restrictions. This particular one wasn’t even my favorite or the best, but it did win prettiest plating haha
One of the dishes I really need to recreate: a tartino. This one was made with spinach and Gorgonzola dolce. It’s basically a mini souffle! So fucking delicious! I’ll be sure to post a recipe, if and when I make this
It took an hour and a half to find a parking spot in the medieval town of Pienza (also in Tuscany region) on the Sunday afternoon that we visited as a family. It was worth it in the end. The town is famous for Pecorino cheese. The cheese was everywhere! Needless to say, we were in heaven
A shop in Pienza where we bought half the inventory (JK). Seriously though, we did mail ourselves several wheels of cheese and dried sausages in addition to two or three cases of wine… hey, we needed something to live for once we arrived back in dismal NYC… can you blame us??

Now that I am back in NYC and inspired by the skeletal women I saw in Milan, I am trying to get back on the straight and narrow (i.e. no meat, save for special occasions, minimal wine consumption (sure, Jan…), and healthier eating in general). Wish me luck! Venice is great since the cuisine is primarily seafood, but boy did I go to town on meat in Tuscany: you have to… it’s the Tuscan way (when in Rome, do as the Romans do, am I right?!). Anyhow. We are still waiting for a case of wine we bought at the castle winery to arrive. This is what motivates me. I’m not sure where we are going to store it in our 1-bedroom apartment, but I’ll find a way.

The beautiful infinity pool at Capanna Suites in Tuscany… we didn’t go in once. WTF is wrong with us? Every time it was mega hot we were away from the hotel, and when we did want to take a dip, it was overcast and started raining… go figure. Glad I worried about how I looked in a bikini and bought two new ones just for the trip…
Naturally, since cats always find me and I always find them, there were two farm cats that hung out on the premises of Capanna Suites… I brought them steak from Siena and doled it out each night, along with water in wine glasses on our patio for them to enjoy

Countdown to Italy: Linguine al Nero di Seppia

Sitting here in my apartment on yet another 98 degree day, waiting until the sun goes down and work is over so I can get out for walk. I had an entire entry written, including a recipe and all, but my 2015 piece of shit Chromebook refused to let me publish it when I tried hitting “Publish,” and then also deleted the entire entry, even though I had repeatedly saved it as I worked on it. So here I am, retyping it all… convinced the first version was the best and this won’t be as good as what I originally composed, since I am now angry and hurried. I make more money than I used to, and still can’t seem to justify buying a new $1,500 MacBook. So, I will continue to use this ChromeBook, a relic of 2015, a piece of technology that does me dirty every time I use it.

I am on a mission to lose 10 lbs. over the next five weeks, prior to my vacation. I WILL WEAR SHORTS and I WILL WEAR SUNDRESSES like a normal human – like a normal, average American woman – if it is the last thing I do. I am tired of hiding my lower body in black jeans on hot summer days, and I am taking action and holding myself personally accountable. I will reduce the size of my legs, and I will wear shorts with confidence.

I choose to focus on this seemingly attainable goal, since I am unable to control the political climate of this country, global warming, all of the helpless, homeless and sick animals I see on the streets of my neighborhood, and the out-of-control shootings and stabbings that happen daily here in NYC and also throughout the nation. I can only control myself. And so, I help sick animals when I see them, try not to buy single-use plastics, recycle, and try my hardest not to eat meat, which is easy to do here, but impossible to do when I visit my parents upstate, and now, I will try to lose 10 lbs. I can’t control the war raging in Ukraine, I cannot control the crimes committed in Myanmar by the national army (which I made the mistake of reading about yesterday), but by God I can call for help if I see a sick cat suffering on the street, and I can control the circumference of these thighs.

My neighborhood is trash… literally. Covered in trash and the people are trash. They get pets they don’t spay/neuter and then kick them to the curb when they get pregnant or, in the case of a male cat, start spraying. I wish I could abuse people the way they abuse animals. The sidewalks are a mean place around these parts, and the summer heat makes the psychos that walk these streets even more psychotic. I worry that I will die at the hands of a psycho due to gun violence or stabbing before I have the chance to get out of this God forsaken city. It is a legitimate fear. My fear of climate change that I cannot control is a daily undercurrent to all of my other activities and thoughts. Even when I am working or busy these days, I cannot stop thinking about how fucked the future of this planet is. There is nothing I can do though, apart from hold myself accountable for my own actions. I cannot control the people I encounter on the street though – and there are more crazies than ever before.

I want to leave this country, but mostly, I want to leave this city forever. I fantasize about going to Italy and not returning. Maybe we can buy a small property in Tuscany, and I can work remotely from another time-zone. Who has to know? Better yet, I would quit my job and just work on restoring the property and promoting it as a retreat and establishing a small farm-to-table restaurant. I can’t stay here any longer. Me and NYC are done. It has nothing left to offer me.

I wrote a recipe in my last entry that was deleted before I could publish, and now, I am too lazy to re-write it. Sorry. Here is a picture of the ingredients that I bought at Eataly though, and also a picture of my finished pasta dish:

It’s impossible to find/buy cuttlefish in this country, so rock shrimp had to do
lingue al nero di seppia (linguine with cuttlefish ink)

You can use your imagination and the picture of my ingredients above as a reference point if you want to make something similar.

I felt good about myself for .2 seconds after sweating out 2 lbs. in water weight during my 2.5 mile walk the other night.
I wish I had the confidence to actually wear shorts out of my house… I don’t like the sexual leering from men. I know I have thick legs and an ample ass…. but I don’t like people staring at it.

Five weeks until Italy. Wish me luck.

I Don’t Think I had Corona

Sunday, 3/15/2020 – 1:00pm:

I feel 100% better, which leads me to believe I did not, in fact, have coronavirus.  How strange that I felt like crap for 48 hours and am as good as new today… maybe the change in seasons? Seasonal flu (if that’s even a thing)?  Who knows.  Below you can read my account of what I initially thought might be a case of coronavirus.  Hope you’re all staying safe and healthy, kids!

 

Friday, 3/13/2020 – 1:00am:

I started reading about coronavirus back in early January – right after the New Year.  I didn’t know how serious this shit would be, nor did I ever think it would leave China and basically ruin the entire world.  I kept joking with a work colleague, that I hoped I caught coronavirus so I’d have an excuse to stay home for a couple of weeks…. and now here I am.  Here we are.  The entire economy has crashed and burned, thousands of people working in the hospitality industry have been laid off or let go while others have been forced to take pay cuts. Thousands of people are sick and thousands of people have died.  This isn’t exactly the joke that I thought it was a few months ago, and I am ashamed to say I took it so lightly and made jokes about it.  I was ignorant and didn’t understand the effects that it would have so far and wide on individuals, families, society and the world economy.

I have been riding the subway into and back home from work all week; going into an office building where a thousand others work each day, and going to all of the regular places a person needs to go (deli, grocery store, bank, wine store, etc.) all week.  I am quite sure I am in the early stages of having coronavirus, and will attempt to get tested tomorrow, although I hear from even the handful of medical professionals I know, that there is a shortage of tests even here in NYC and hospitals are sending patients home to self-quarantine without testing them first.

I started to get a tight/itchy throat yesterday, along with a slightly elevated temperature, but I thought it was just a case of somatic symptoms, since I’ve spent all day every day reading about coronavirus for the last few weeks.  Today, it was the same thing – felt kind of warm and flushed all day, with a tight throat – but given that Spring has sprung here in NYC, I also thought it might be seasonal allergies.  And now, here I am.  1:00a.m. on the nose, and I have a temperature of 99.6 Fahrenheit.  My body aches, especially my joints, and I feel run down and beyond tired, yet I can’t sleep because my body hurts too badly to get comfy.  I also have had some occasional chills.

I’ve scoured the entire internet for protocol regarding how and where to get tested in NYC, and cannot find any useful guidelines or information.  I’m going to call the local hospital and emergency walk-in clinic tomorrow and see if they can provide further instruction or any sort of help.  My stomach also hurts and feels like it may explode… not cool.

I kind of knew this would happen.  I haven’t been sick since Fall of 2018 when I had a really bad cold, so I knew it was about time to catch something.  Plus, I totally jinxed myself by wishing I would get it…. be careful what you wish for, kids.  Now, I am worried that if I test positive (which I am sure I will if I can get tested…), who I may have infected, since the incubation period is 14 days, and I spent last weekend with my family upstate.  I will also have to reach out to work and let them know if I test positive so they can deep clean the office and let people know if they were exposed.

I’m trying to stay positive here, but seeing my city in this state of being and my county and the world in this state of being, is not exactly boosting morale.  I pray that my family and friends, and my boyfriends family and friends in Italy continue to stay healthy and safe.  I’m not sure how I will be feeling tomorrow, but I will continue to post updates here, since I want to provide a first-hand account of how this virus is for a healthy, young-ish individual, such as myself.  So far the actual flu has felt worse…. and as always, a hangover is much much worse than what I feel right now.

UPDATE (3/14/2020 – 10:00am):

I woke up about 30 minutes ago and feel about the same as I did last night.  I don’t feel terrible, per se, but I don’t really feel normal or good either.  I still have a slight fever (although not a high one) and my joints are achy (especially my hips, knees and my shoulders).  I also kind of feel like I have a tight chest… it’s not uncomfortable, but it does feel tight.  I called the local walk-in to see what protocol is, and they told me to call the CDC to see if I qualify for testing.  If I qualify, I will get tested at a hospital.  Additionally, my stomach still feels like a painful ball – it is distended and painful but I don’t need to vomit or go to the bathroom, so I don’t know what’s up with that… but I fucking hate being bloated.

UPDATE (3/14/2020 – 2:00pm):

I called the CDC (tried to, anyway) and was on hold for 45 minutes with no estimated wait time or number of callers ahead of me provided.  Needless to say, I don’t have time for that shit and so I hung up.  I doubt I would qualify to get tested anyhow, since I have not been in direct contact with any known-infected individuals, nor have I traveled to any of the high risk countries, and I don’t have symptoms that would warrant a hospital stay.  Although we were informed yesterday at work, that an elevator maintenance guy who was in the building earlier this week tested positive for corona…. we were assured he was only in the basement though and not even in the elevator, but who fucking knows.

My temp reached 100.7 and I took some ibuprofen.  I am feeling slightly better right now, but I’ve noticed the symptoms seem to wax and wane.  I doubt it’s seasonal allergies, since I never have allergies (apart from my eyes getting red and stingy each Spring).  I also don’t think it’s the flu, because I’ve had the flu a couple of times before, and honestly, for me the regular flu felt MUCH worse than how I currently feel.  Plus, the flu symptoms came on faster and harder…. I basically went from 0-100 when I had the flu back in January of 2018.  I guess I’ll just wait to see how this progresses and call the CDC if I start to feel really terrible.  I read that some people can be totally asymptomatic or have minimal symptoms; I suspect I am the later if this is in fact corona.

It’s such a beautiful day outside in NYC.  Such a shame that literally almost every bar, rooftop and restaurant is currently closed down or will close to the general public to prevent the spread of this disease.  I feel like I am dreaming and keep wanting to slap myself to make sure I am not dreaming and that this is real life.  It is truly a shame to be stuck inside on a day like to day where the sun is shining and it’s 55 degrees.  I think I’ll spend the afternoon baking focaccia and hemming a $12 dress that was clearly scaled to fit someone who is at least 5’9″.   There is nothing else to do.  I ordered a new book from Amazon, My Dark Vanessa, and cannot wait for it to arrive.  The reviews were amazing… hopefully it will arrive by tomorrow.

Love in the Time of Corona

 

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I’m sure many of you reading this feel the exact same way that I do right now, but holy shit… what a time to be alive!! Am I right?!   As if the last few years haven’t been mentally and emotionally taxing enough given the current political environment, global warming, mass extinction, catastrophic natural events, threats of war, and impending societal collapse, it now feels like we’re all living in some surreal world, or, rather, in one of the many apocalyptic movies that came out between 2006 – 2016.

We’ve basically reverted back to medieval plague times – I feel like Beetlejuice when he makes the joke about having ‘lived through the black plague and had a pretty good time during that.’  All I can do to stay sane right now, is keep cracking inappropriate jokes and making memes about Coronavirus.  I know this virus isn’t a joke, but we’ve basically shut down the entire world, the economy is crashing and isn’t going to be able to recover for a long time, many are losing their jobs and sources of income (depending on the industry they work in), and people are going insane stockpiling supplies and food like they’re anticipating nuclear fallout!  It’s the insanity of the media whipping everyone into a crazed frenzy that is going to lead to the most devastation, I believe.

How is it that people have gone so far off the deep end, that grocery store shelves are empty, and psychos are fighting over packs of toilet paper and hand-sanitizer?  This is everything that is wrong with our world, and more specifically our country today.  This is why the world is going down the toilet. I understand the immense pressure being placed on the healthcare system and hospitals and healthcare workers right now, and the lack of testing and resources – it’s a major issue, and certainly one that the U.S. should be panicking about and enacting cautions around (i.e. recommending people to stay at home and cancelling concerts and events).  But how is hoarding toilet paper going to help with that?

I am worried about the elderly and those with compromised immune systems as much as the next person.  I feel sympathy for anyone who has already lost a family member or loved one due to this virus. I worry about my boyfriend’s parents in Venice, and my own parents upstate. The fact that there is now a travel ban in place is what really makes me nervous though – what if we needed to go to Italy to take care of his parents???? It’s crazy to think that weddings, funerals and births have all been affected, postponed, or not gone as expected as a result of the travel bans in place and red-zoning happening around Europe.

I’ve still been commuting from my apartment in Brooklyn into my office in Manhattan all week.  The subways have been empty and the streets quiet, not only because of people working from home, but also for the lack of tourists.  It took my company until today to recommend that we all work remotely, starting on Monday.  I was excited at the prospect of this a couple of months ago when I first started reading about Coronavirus, but now?  Not so much.  I like having routine in my life, and I’m scared if I am home I will be bored and binge eat and start fights with my boyfriend.  I honestly don’t care if I get the virus, I know that I will be fine.  I understand the reason we’re all going into quarantine mode, working remotely, and avoiding public gatherings is to stop the spread of the virus, and to protect the most vulnerable members of our society.  It is also an attempt to not overwhelm our already-fragile healthcare system.  But the media really does seem to be going overboard.

This virus is really making class disparity all the more visible.  People who have the capacity to work from home (‘white collar’ jobs, so to speak), have been doing so for over two weeks now.  In my own office, all of the partners haven’t come into the office in about two weeks time, as they have the luxury of working from home.  Retail workers and workers in the hospitality industry (hostesses, servers, dishwashers, line cooks, bartenders, managers, etc.) have no such luxury, unless they’re working in the corporate sector of their respective industry.  They have to show up to a brick-and-mortar store or restaurant to work their shift, and on top of that, be exposed to a rotating cast of the general public who patronize their venue.  Same goes for teachers, gym instructors, dog-walkers, nurses, daycare workers, construction crews, etc..  People who are financially well off enough have been taking Ubers or other car services into work so as to avoid the subway or public buses.  Most people can’t afford to take private cars into and from the office each day.  Now that everyone has seen what happened in Italy, with towns being locked-down, those who have secondary homes are fleeing NYC to go to the countryside, so they don’t get stranded here in the event that no one is allowed out or in.

What about the rest of us poor slobs? I guess we’re just left exposed to extra germs and carrying on as usual.  I walked to work a couple of days this week, just because I am ambitious and enjoy walking, but what about everyone who has been mandated to come into an office or restaurant or retail store, and has had no option but to ride a train or subway or take a bus?  I feel especially bad for gig workers – the babysitters, personal trainers, tutors, pet-sitters, etc. of the world who have had jobs/gigs cut since everyone who employs them currently has reduced need for them.  We live in a society where 78% of the population lives paycheck to paycheck.  Unless the government steps in with stipends or some sort of compensation, how will these people pay for rent and food and medical expenses?  Especially considering that the majority of gig workers do not have insurance….

Maybe this will be part of the wake-up call that Americans need regarding the need for universal healthcare and/or childcare.

If this city does get shut down, I have approximately 1 large sack of white rice, 1 bag of oats, 1 bag of split peas, 1 bag of lentils, a couple boxes of pasta, and 2 rolls of TP (TP = toilet paper, for those of you who didn’t already know that) to see me through a quarantine.  Hopefully, in the event that I am housebound for a few weeks, I’ll come out looking ‘as thin as a needle,’ to quote Britney Spears.  I also hope to come out on the other side with better skin, since I will be getting way more sleep if I don’t have to commute into work each morning. I’m looking on the bright side here guys….

Maybe the Illuminati sold our entire world/human population to aliens, and they need us all to be complacent and contained when the aliens touch-down their UFOs to enslave us next week.  We will all be like sitting ducks, trapped in our homes and cities when the alien takeover occurs.

Just kidding with the above.  I’m not really one for conspiracies, but I am pretty sure this virus was intentionally released or accidentally released from a lab in China.  I don’t doubt that.  I don’t really know what to think or how to feel in today’s world, honestly.   Anything is possible.  I put nothing past anyone or any government.

In the event that “they” tell us not to leave our residences (like they have recently enacted in certain cities in Italy – Venice, included), I think I may go insane. If I can’t get fresh air and some physical activity, I risk going off the deep end.

I hope everyone out there (all five of you who read this), and everyone’s family and friends are staying safe and healthy during this trying time!  Hopefully it will be over soon and we can all resume life as usual.

 

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….

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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.

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

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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).

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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.

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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:

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

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The homemade gnocchi in all its’ glory

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

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The hand-made orecchiette, in all its’ glory

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Orecchiette with pesto and baked zucchini chips

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

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

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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.

 

 

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.

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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:

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I love this little fire pit

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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:

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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.

IMG_4355I 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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.

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

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By my family’s woods in West Bainbridge

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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.

 

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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

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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

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

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Sunset through the woods

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:

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Paired with my fave Hello Kitty Sweatshirt

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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)

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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

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  • 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….)

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

Too lazy to write another recipe. Cheers.

 

 

 

All About My Cats… and Maine

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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….

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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Hi there! 

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.

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Two Lights State Park

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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.

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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:

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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.

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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

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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

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  • 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)

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

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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

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  •  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

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Buon appetito bitches

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.

 

 

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…

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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.