Uncategorized – Page 4 – The High Heeled C*ntessa

The Ballad of O’Kieran River and Billy Desert

Gather ’round, children, and let me tell you a tale of pure and undying love. The kind of love that only happens once in a lifetime. Once upon a time, a time long before COVID-19 destroyed life as we know it, there were two lost souls, swimming in a fish bowl, year after year. On a magical night back in October 2012, at magical dive bar, which no longer exists, called the “Trash Bar”, in the epicenter of the hipster universe, Williamsburg Brooklyn, these two souls collided in what would be the most epic, truthful, and deepest connection, in the history of mankind… no love like this has ever existed before, and will never exist again.

Meet Billy Desert:

Height: 5’6″
Weight: 92 lbs.

Billy Desert’s Likes:

Collecting and using crystals for healing powers, good vibes, to ward off negative energy, and to boost energy levels
Practicing and studying witchcraft
Hooping at festivals, raves, on rooftops, and in public parks
Smoking weed multiple times a day
Making her own clothes out of recycled materials
Holistic medicines
Non-holistic medicine (adderall, xanax, coke, ecstasy)
Talking about conspiracies; especially chem-trails and pizza gate
Juice fasts, or just water fasts
Burning Man and her Burning Man family
Reading people’s tarot cards
Using veganism and her “alleged” allergies to gluten, soy, and nuts as a cover to hide the fact that she hasn’t had a hot meal in years
Stick and poke tattoos

Billy Desert’s Dislikes:

Being bloated (which happens easily when you’re only 92 lbs.)
People who eat animals/animal products
People who hate on her white-girl dreads
People who hate on her white-girl, crystal, stick-on bindi(s)
Food (apart from pickles, because they have zero calories and baby food, because it’s easily digestible)
Political discussions (she doesn’t watch news and she won’t vote because the whole world is a big conspiracy and she doesn’t want to be a part of the system)
Anything that is NOT organic (*** with the exception of the tri-monthly Botox and Juviderm injections, and the Gortex lip implants she got at age 27)

Billy’s Background:

Billy was a 25-year-old old earthling, hailing from Newburgh, NY. Billy grew up on a commune called ‘Children of the Sun’, with five parents (three moms, two dads) and 26 brothers and sisters. She always knew that there was something better waiting out there for her, beyond the polygamy and sexist views of the elders in her cult. And so, on the eve of her 25th birthday, one night before she was due to wed the cult leader in a polygamist, “flower” ceremony, Billy Desert packed her backpack with the few belongings that she had (a bible, a glass pipe, her magic crystals, and her 5 different color saris), and hopped the Greyhound bus to Port Authority, NYC. She was on a ‘walk-about’ to discover her true self and her purpose in this world. She was a woman coming into her own. Billy arrived in NYC with $180, a heart full of love, and a soul full of gratitude, for the places she had been and the places she was going. She didn’t have a resume or any work experience, but she met a another free-spirit after her bus docked at Port of Authority and she was wandering around trying to find the exit. Billy Desert crossed paths with a meth addict named Britney Amber on that fateful night. Looking for the exit to the street, Billy approached Britney to ask for directions. Britney complimented her on her crystal necklaces and multi-color dreads, which she had decorated with scraps of fabric and tiny flower clips. The two hit it off like two old friends. In need of a place to stay, and in need of quick money, Billy took Britney up on her offer to crash at her place, which happened to be only a couple of blocks away, after Britney learned that Billy had just arrived to NYC and had no real plan.

Britney’s place was a real crack den. Think: “Members Only, circa 2015.” It was a five-story walk up on 38th street and 8th Ave., which she shared with three other roommates – a dealer named Sid, a gay hairdresser who introduced himself as Starr, and two twins from Bratislava, named Ginger and Natasha, who also had matching dreads and septum piercings – both girls were dancers at New York Dolls and Sapphire.

The apartment was 4 bedrooms, one bath, and smelled of weed and cigarette smoke… it was pretty filthy, but it would do for the night. Britney offered to hook Billy up with a job at Pumps, where she worked as a dancer, but Billy didn’t think she’d be right for the job. Britney then suggested she try out as a go-go dancer with Team Kitty Koalition – she had a few friends in the group and thought that with her look, Billy would be a perfect fit.

The next afternoon, Billy auditioned to dance with Team Kitty Koalition and was hired on the spot. The job situation was looking up.

Meet O’Kieran River:

Height: 5’11”
Weight: 162 lbs.

O’Kieran River’s Likes:

The anxious excitement of waiting for your dealer to ring the doorbell
That first line of cocaine
The shit you have to take, when the first line of cocaine kicks in
Rolling at home/rolling anywhere
Studying and practicing Buddhism
Philosophy
Burning Man
She-male porn
Shooting trap
Veganism (but only because his girlfriend does it)
Lying to his parents and family and friends about his “sobriety”
Stick and poke tattoos
Depeche Mode
Anything by William S. Burroughs
Anything by the Cohen brothers

O’Kieran River’s Dislikes:

When the drugs run out
The day(s) following a drug binge
When someone uses your drugs and doesn’t compensate you or make up for it at a later date
Grifters
Tempeh
Women over the age of 28
Women over 110 lbs.

O’Kieran’s Backgound:

O’Kieran River was a spoiled, trust-fund-baby, hailing from a rich, Texas oil family. He was 28 and had been living in Williamsburg, BK for almost four years when he met Billy Dessert on that fateful night in October 2012. He was fresh out of his 3rd stint in rehab for stimulant addiction (cocaine, in this case), but he was determined not to relapse this time and let his entire family down (again). Picture, if you will, a young Pete Doherty; now, picture Perry Farrell from Jane’s Addiction: O’Kieran is what the lovechild between P. Doherty and P. Farrell would look like, if two men could create a baby. He was long and lean, and covered in random tattoos. He had shaggy, dark brown, shoulder length hair, which was constantly getting in his face. He had perpetual, dark circles under his eyes from the years of drug-use and late nights, and he had the most perfect, luscious pout.

The Setting:

Having just completed a 30-day rehabilitation program, O’Kieran returned home to his Berry Street apartment from Promises, Malibu, feeling not-quite-exactly-himself. He had gained 27 lbs. on his usually emaciated frame, and was feeling fat, undesirable, and hopelessly un-cool. If he didn’t have drugs as a crutch anymore, who was he? If he couldn’t fit into size 29 skinny jeans, than what was his purpose on this earth???

He was wondering exactly this, sitting alone on his apartment couch and drinking a seltzer water at 9pm, when his roommate, Stefano, burst into the door. “My MAN! Welcome home, buddy!” he said as he gave O’Kieran a bear hug that lasted a full minute. “Thank God you’re home… life has been SO SO boring without you here. Can we please go out tonight and celebrate your home coming? I’ve missed you so much these last couple of months.” “Well, I planned on staying in tonight. You know, going out isn’t exactly conducive to my sobriety plan.” The fact was, that O’Kieran didn’t give a shit about breaking his sobriety… he was more concerned and self-conscious about his newly formed love handles and the fact that he could no long fit into his size 29 skinny jeans. He also didn’t know how to socialize without alcohol or drugs. “Come on! I scored us some super premium blow from this new dealer I found while you were gone! I’ve been saving it for a special occasion!”. “Stefano – you do realize that I was gone for four weeks because I was in rehab, right? My parents will cut me off for good if I start using again after they just spent $60K on rehab. Plus, I’m not really feeling myself after gaining almost 30 lbs., you know what I mean??” Stefano responded, “Ahhh, come on man! You don’t look fat at all! You look healthy!!!” “Healthy??? HEALTHY?!! Brother – they took away my drugs and made me eat three meals a day. I can’t even look at myself naked in the mirror right now! You think I look healthy, but I know that’s just a euphemism for obese…. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

After an hour of convincing, pleading with, and downright begging him, Stefano finally got O’Kieran to agree to a night out on the town. “Please promise that you won’t give me any blow. I don’t care how drunk I get and how much I beg you… you cannot let me have any …. not even a bump. OK??” “OK – I promise! You won’t be touching my stash tonight. Furthermore, I will not let you out of my sight, and you won’t be doing any drugs at all under my watch!”

And so it was, that O’Kieran borrowed a pair of Stefanos size 32 skinny jeans (which he had to squeeze into) regretfully buttoned up his finest, second-hand vest, and headed out into the night with Stefano. They hit up their favorite haunt, The Levee, first. O’Kieran had a PBR and shot of Jameson, as did his friend, and then around midnight, they headed over to the Trash Bar to watch one of Stefano’s friend’s band perform.

On the 8 minute walk from the Levee to the Trash Bar, O’Kieran deeply contemplated whether or not it was a wise choice to have gone out that night. He contemplated his choice to wear a suit vest with nothing under it, now that he had man-titties and a belly, and he contemplated his decision to have unprotected sex with an alcoholic he’d met in rehab. He also wondered what the point of living was, now that he no longer had drugs to look forward to. Just thinking about the fact that he was not supposed to be doing them, made him yearn to inhale that sweet, gasoline-infused scent of cocaine deep into his nostrils, and lust after the acrid taste of molly on the back of his tongue. Drinking just wasn’t going to cut it. He was fat enough as is and did NOT need the extra calories from alcohol. He needed to get skinny again, and the only way to do this was by indulging in a little nose candy. He had already made up his mind by the time they stepped into the disgusting dive bar that was The Trash Bar… he was going to get FUCKED UP.

O’Keiran didn’t want to get fucked up for the sake of getting fucked up, and he sure as hell didn’t want to ruin his $60K sobriety. What he did want, was to forget how uncomfortable he felt in his own skin with the extra baggage he’d acquired, and he also wanted to forget how fucking awkward he felt while he was sober and around people he didn’t know in a party-setting. And so, he proceeded to drink the following:

2 Margaritas with no salt
1 Vodka soda
2 shots of fireball
2 PBRs
2 shots of Jameson

To say he was trashed does not nearly begin to describe the elevated level of intoxication he found himself him. He was stumbling about, making fun of people to their faces, making friends in the bathroom, and singing along with the live band on stage in the back room of the bar, even though he didn’t know any of the lyrics. He was being a straight-up asshole and causing poor Stefano to have a shitty night out, since Stefano now had to look after O’Kieran instead of doing bumps of coke in the bathroom, which is what the game plan had been. And of course, O’Kieran hit that wall where all he could think about in his drunken, blacked-out mind was getting his hands on drugs, whatever the cost. He tried to scroll through the contacts in his phone, but remembered that he had deleted all of his dealers upon entering rehab. He asked around the dark and crowded bar, seeking out individuals that he thought were high, doing drugs, or looked like the kind of people who would know where to score. “Hey mate, you know where I can find some blow?! NO? What about K? MDMA? I’ll take anything that’s not weed!” No one wanted to share with him though…. he was a total liability at that point.

After an hour and a half of asking everyone in the bar, O’Kieran finally found a guy who had and was willing to give him an ecstasy pill in exchange for just a drink at the bar. What a great price to pay! O’Kieran bought the man Johnny Walker blue on the rocks and a bottle of water for himself. “Cheers!” O’Kieran said, as he clinked his plastic water bottle against his newfound friend’s tumbler of whiskey. And with that, he popped the redbull-stamped, red pill and washed it down with a generous gulp of water. O’Kieran turned his back on the bar and his friend to watch the stage for a moment. “This is turning out to be one of the most fun nights I’ve had in a long time!” He turned around with a drunken, shit-eating grin on his face, but his friend had disappeared.

He supposed it was time to find Stefano anyhow… they had been separated for a good 45 minutes at this point. O’Keiran scanned the crowded bar, but it was dark and loud and he was too drunk to actually focus. He decided to just take a walk around the venue while he waited for the drugs to come up… that was always a good idea. He moved through the crowd with his water bottle in hand. A new band was on stage and they sounded like the poor man’s version of The Strokes. As he passed the bar again, O’Keiran reached over and grabbed a couple of plastic stir sticks. He held onto one and began to chew it ever so gently, and then increasingly so with fury. FUCK. The drugs were coming up, and they were coming up faster than he had anticipated. The lights began to play tricks on him, and everything looked a bit dodgier in the dark. The music, which had been nothing to write home about an hour prior, suddenly took on a new and interesting beat… he was really digging it, and began to move in time to the beat while he closed his eyes and smiled to no one but himself. Smiled to life. Sure he was plumper than he wanted to be, and he’d just broken his promise of sobriety, but you know what? Life was beautiful. Life was so good and so beautiful in that moment, that nothing else mattered.

O’Keiran was rolling pretty hard at this point, in a sea of mostly drunk people, so at least no one seemed to notice his shifty eyes or the perma-grin plastered to his face. He wanted to sit down and rest for a bit, but there was no comfortable area to do so, and so he decided he’d better continue to look for Stefano. He was walking straight through the crowd, approaching the stage, when he saw what looked to be a angel dancing under a purple light from the stage. His heart almost stopped as he gazed upon her beauty – she . white-girl dreads, crystals on her face, and was absolutely emaciated… just his type. He decided to approach: “Hello m’lady” he said, as he sidled up next to her swaying to the music. She leaned her head back, smiling ear to ear under the purple glow of the lights and moving her body from side to side. “Hello good sir! How are you tonight?” she said, smiling as she leaned towards him to be heard over the music. She introduced herself as Billy Dessert

They made small talk and instantly hit if off as they danced together in front of the stage. “I think I need to find a place to sit for a moment,” O’Keiran said after about 30 minutes of dancing, and he took Billy’s hand in his own and led her through the crowd, into the front part of the venue. They took a seat on the old, destroyed car seats that the bar had installed along one wall for patrons to rest on. It was a bit brighter here than it had been back by the stage, and as Billy took in O’Keiran’s face fully, she exclaimed “Oh my God, you’re so rolling balls right now, aren’t you?!” O’Keiran’s smile was like the Cheshire Cat… “Caught me!” he said. Just then, Stefano appeared, looming above them with his hands in fists against his hips. “Jesus, O’Keiran! I’ve been looking for you for the past hour! You could have texted me and told me you were up front!” Stefano looked down at O’Keiran, who’s eyes were shifting back and forth and who had that unmistakable grin, that Stefano knew only too well at this point. “Oh no…. oh no, you didn’t. What the fuck???? You told me you weren’t doing drugs tonight!” O’Keiran quipped back: “I mean, you brought me HERE and expected that I would keep my word?”. “I never should have let you out of my sight… ” Stefano, only then realizing that O’Keiran was sitting with a girl, and an attractive one at that, introduced himself. “I hope he hasn’t been causing you any trouble.. he’s harmless really. Just a bit of a mess.” “Oh no, we’ve been getting along just splendidly! I’m happy he found me – or that I found him.”

After a few minutes of chit chat, the three of them decided to bounce and check out a Resolute party that was happening in Bushwick. They hailed a cab and climbed into the back seat, where it was agreed that they needed to procure more drugs, so Stefano and Billy could be as high as O’Keiran, who was currently sandwiched between the two of them in the back seat, with his eyes closed, smile on his face, and lolling his head about. He was in another dimension… Stefano, always one to think ahead, texted a couple of friends to see if anyone had extra E to spare when they arrived. Luckily he found someone to hook them up.

The three of them were soon high as fuck. Stefano wandered off with a group of friends he met when they arrived at the party, and Billy and O’Keiran were once again by themselves. After dancing for a bit, while Billy waited for her drugs to come up, the two wandered through the crowd looking for a place to sit on the perimeters of the dance floor. They found a semi-quiet spot near the bathrooms, and sunk onto a couch in the dim light. They talked for the next three hours, intermittently getting up to walk around, dance for a bit, or to grab water from the bar. It was like they were meant to be – meant to meet on this night, when neither one of them had wanted to go out in the first place. Total kismet.

They were so enamored by each other, that when the party ended at 6am, they decided to forego after hours, and go back to O’Keiran’s place. They walked back all the way from Bushwick, the sun was up and they were now rolling in broad daylight, as they made their way back, but they didn’t care. The only people in the world right now seemed to be them. On the walk back to Williamsburg, Billy told O’Keiran all about growing up in, and subsequently leaving, the cult in Newburgh. He was fascinated. The more she shared about herself, the more he wanted to know. At the same time, he felt like he’d known her forever. They arrived back to O’Keiran’s empty apartment around 8am (Stefano went to afters). O’Keiran showed Billy his impressive record collection and at 11:10am, Billy told O’Keiran “I love you.” He said it back, and then they made out.

Billy moved into O’Keiran’s room the following week and the two began a tumultuous relationship, fueled by drugs, sex and rock n’ roll. It was all O’Keiran had ever dreamed of, in a “Requiem for a Dream” sort of way. The kind of relationship that someone who glamorizes drugs will actively seek out or cosmically attract. After O’Keiran’s parents found out he’d broken his sobriety, they cut him off financially. Billy became a cam girl to support them and to pay rent. And so they lived, happily ever after, either in a state of other-worldly highness, or fighting over O’Keiran’s lack of work.

Come as You Are

Well, it’s been over three months since I last wrote an entry and shit has only gone further downhill in the good ol’ USA. In some respects, things are improving, but only nominally. NYC is no longer a hot-bed of COVID activity, but other states have spiraled out of control and various states/regions have shut down again. Much needed (and long overdue) discussions and protests regarding systematic racism and police brutality in the United States have swept across the nation (and other parts of the world) in a movement to address and end racism, and societal reform seems (thankfully) inevitable, so long as we all keep doing our parts to raise awareness, demand justice, and make changes where we can. Hopefully this world will get better in some respects, although it is bound to get worse in others (*cough* GLOBAL WARMING *cough* POVERTY GAP).

I haven’t written in a while because I’ve been so depressed over the current state of the world. What can I write that hasn’t already been said, you know??? The city (NYC) has gone downhill tragically. Everyone who can afford to is moving out (I wish I was part of this demographic), and crime has increased everywhere, including neighborhoods that were once exempt, like the Upper West Side. There are homeless encampments everywhere, junkies fighting over who had the last hit of crack down the street from me, and heroin junkies openly shooting up in Times Square (my boyfriend sent my photos from the lobby of his work building)…. classy. We’ve had degenerates somehow gain entrance into our building lobby and rip open half a dozen packages that were sitting downstairs for the building residents, even though there is clearly a camera facing the door. Like whoever has the balls to come into a building where people live and tear open packages in front of a security camera has no fear of being caught, and this scares me. What if myself or someone else came out of the elevator or down the stairs and caught this person in the act??? I’ve never in my life felt scared to live here before, but it honestly feels lawless here now… like the wild fucking west, but without saloons and horses.

I am terrified about what will happen when Fall/Winter arrives, since indoor dining and entertainment (movie theaters, bowling alleys, bars, restaurants etc.) has yet to open back up. If restaurants and bars cannot open once colder weather hits, and outdoor dining on the disgusting streets is no longer feasible, we are all literally fucked. More than we already are. I have so many friends that have been out of work or forced to move home since the beginning of this pandemic since they worked in the hospitality industry and lost their jobs indefinitely. NYC has already fallen so far, that it will never recover if restaurants, bars and entertainment venues cannot reopen soon. What is the point of living in this city if you are able to work remotely? What is the point of living in a city that was once the epicenter of culture and dining and entertainment, when all of that is gone???

We (my boyfriend and I) have been wanting to leave NYC for the past few years, but now we are basically desperate to . Owning our own business (a small farm-to-table restaurant and farm) has never looked better. I want to live in the country and I want to live a simple life (kind of like Paris and Nicole). I want to rely on myself for work and do something I love. I am sick of the fear and uncertainty that comes with being employed by a company who could furlough or cut my position at any time and without notice. Of course there are benefits to working for a company: health insurance, a 401K, paid time off, etc.., but I mean, even with health insurance my deductible is astronomical and my basic-bitch birth control isn’t covered by my insurance and thus costs $225 out-of-pocket each month, so like, fuck it. Before COVID my biggest fear of living in this city was getting blown up by a terrorist in the subway, but now my biggest fear is getting raped or murdered by some degenerate who broke into my building lobby and is opening FedEx packages when I intrude on them.

The 2020 presidential election is only a couple of months away and things are looking… well, scary. Don’t even get me started on Trump supporters and his evil chronies. I’ve almost gotten into physical altercations trying to reason with Trump supporters before. Despite the increasingly hot frying pan that is our world right now, I try to remain positive where I can. Global warming will probably kill us all in the next 10 years, or at least be the catalyst to wars or plagues that will kill us all, so I try to remember that life is short and to do things that make me happy each and every day, whether it’s buying some platforms I’ll never have a chance to wear outside the house because parties and raves are a thing of the past, or eating another helping of pasta, despite bitching about my burgeoning thighs.

I’m not sorry if this is depressing, because it really is fucking depressing, and sadly this is our reality (unless you’re filthy rich and on a yacht in Mykonos right now, with a plastic surgeon on-call to administer your botox injections, a private tutor for your spoiled brats, and rapid COVID tests being administered to your private guests). We should all be doing everything that we can right now as individuals and collectively, as a society, to turn this fucking world around, or this world is not going to be here for future generations or even for us in the next 5-10 years (if you’re selfish like that…). Life is already an increasing struggle each and every year… imagine life another few degrees hotter and with water and food shortages here in America, on your own land, instead of countries you don’t give a fuck about (generally speaking here, because I’m sure some of you do give a fuck, as you SHOULD) like India and Yemen. Imagine all of the bad things you think only happen to other people happening here on your own soil, because they will happen and you are not exempt (unless you’re Jeff Bezos or Mark Zuckerberg).

I am trying harder than ever to change what I can and control what I am able to, in order to improve myself and make this world a better place for all (including, and especially, animals (since I care more about the well-being of animals than most people)). Even if all I can control is eating less animal products and buying oat milk… or shopping second-hand so as to eliminate the carbon waste from the clothing industry, at least I’m helping somewhere down the line, as trivial as it sometimes may seem. I think it’s important for us to remember this – and I’m not trying to be preachy here – because lord knows I am an deeply-flawed and sometimes sadistic person – but, if we can all make small changes in our own lives, collectively, these changes make a huge difference. Take a stand for your black/gay/trans/disabled friend, or even for a random person, next time you witness them being treated unfairly or discriminated against. Stop eating factory-farmed (abused animal) meat. Stop being a dick to people who upset you, because at the end of the day, we are all going through some rough shit right now.

I won’t leave you with any recipes because I’m emotionally spent after writing this. But here are some photos from the past couple of months.

IMG_3134 (1) — Earlier on in the pandemic when life was still looking up and the city hadn’t crumbled yet.

Still rocking my daily uniform of black skinny jeans and crop top band tees… it’s getting old, kids.

Today’s outfit was grunge-inspired and never left the confines of my apartment. The skirt is TRAGIC

My hair looked good here, and I also love this Korn tee I bought on Poshmark and cropped to hell and back (see??? positive things)

I was fortunate enough to spend a week away from work and away from NYC with my family on vacation in Maine. I wish I was still there and truly hope to move there one day.

Pre-COVID days …. hoping I can wear some frivolous shit like this again real soon. Lord knows I’ve treated myself to some new platforms.

I probably end every entry like this, but hopefully I’ll write another entry sooner than later and include a good recipe. I have been cooking, it’s just that writing the recipes from my head is so taxing at the end of a work day. I hope everyone who reads this (all five of you) are staying safe and healthy and sane #cheers.

Back to the Food – Split Pea Soup and Asparagus Fettuccine

Got a bit derailed there for a while, regarding the last several blogs… but hey – isn’t that how life goes? What fun would life be if you never derailed a bit? Good to stay on your toes and take the punches as they come… or something like that.

I am finally back to write about food/cooking after writing about my personal life, the quarantine, fictional characters by the name of Indigo, and whatever else I felt like writing about for the last several blogs.

It’s not that I haven’t been cooking – I have been… it’s just that I don’t ever use precise measurements when I cook, and so when I think about trying to transpose the recipe as into written word, it’s a bit daunting trying to mentally compute the measurements of each and every ingredient I used. In other words, I’m fucking lazy sometimes and it’s difficult to transmit what’s in my head into words after another long day of being me.

The best split pea soup I ever made (vegetarian option pictured here, with finishing touch of crème fraîche)

If you know me, you also probably know that I’m obsessed with soups, both making them and eating them. Split pea is one of my favorites, and the one I make is vegetarian, but would otherwise be entirely vegan, if not for the finishing touch of crème fraîche! I also want to apologize for the lack of ‘process’ photos for this – I actually made it for lunch while I was “working” (aka working from home, aka my laptop is open and minimal work is coming in)… so I failed to take or post any pics and videos for the ‘gram.

INGREDIENTS:

1 and 1/4 cups of dried, split peas
2 medium-sized carrots (chopped)
1/2 of a large white/yellow onion (finely chopped)
4 cloves of garlic (finely minced)
2 stalks of celery (diced)
1 medium potato (Idaho or russet)
4-5 tablespoons of olive oil (enough to cover the bottom of your pot)
4 cups (one 32 oz. carton) of vegetable stock (**can use chicken stock if you’re not opposed)
2-3 cups water (depends on how thick you want your soup to be!)
2 tsp smoked paprika
1 tsp celery salt
1 tsp granulated/powdered onion
1 tsp granulated/powdered garlic
a generous pinch of cayenne pepper
salt and pepper to taste
YOU WILL NEED A BLENDER OR IMMERSION BLENDER FOR THIS RECIPE

TO FINISH (OPTIONAL):

Small dollop (a generous teaspoon) of crème fraîche or sour cream
Crackers, croutons, or a side of toasted baguette… I used the below bruschetta toasts, which I’ve really been digging lately:

DIRECTIONS:

Prep the veggies – potato, carrots, celery should be washed; carrots should be chopped (relatively small pieces), onion finely chopped, garlic finely minced, potato chopped into cubes, and celery chopped.
In a large pot, heat olive oil over low heat, add in the onions stirring occasionally and cooking over low-heat until translucent and yellow.
Add in the garlic and continue to cook over low heat for another minute or two.
Add in the split peas, all of the veggie stock, and a cup of water – raise temperature and bring to a gentle boil.
Cook until the split peas are almost tender – about 25-30 minutes (I think?)… occasionally sample a pea or two to see how tender they are..
Once the peas are almost tender, add in all of the other veggies (chopped carrots, celery, and potato), and then add in another cup of water.
At this point, I add in my spices – add in the granulated (or powdered) onion and garlic, celery salt, a generous pinch of cayenne pepper, smoked paprika, black pepper and some salt.
A TIP: Taste-test to see if anything more is needed spice/seasoning-wise. I honestly never measure my spices or salt/pepper when cooking – I start with a reasonable amount and add more as I go along. This way you can achieve your desired taste, spiciness, level of salt, etc…. it’s always better to start with too little than too much!
Continue to cook over medium heat (or at a low boil) for another 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Check to see that vegetables are thoroughly cooked (soft) by sampling. Once the potatoes, carrots, celery and split peas are all soft, it is time to blend!
Using an immersion blender or a ladle to move soup into an actual blender, blend around 2/3 of the contents of the pot of soup. This creates a rich, thick puree, but also leaves some chunks of veggies for texture and aesthetic. When blending the split-pea soup, I try to avoid ladling the carrot pieces into the blender (some are obviously fine), in order to achieve added color and texture to the finished soup.
Continue to keep soup over low heat once fully blended, add in more seasonings if necessary.
Serve hot, with a small dollop of crème fraîche and some crumbled crackers/croutons/toasted bread.

And now for the pasta dish! This one was a hit – I topped with bacon for the BF and ate mine without, but it was every bit as flavorful!

Fettuccine with creamed asparagus sauce, finished with bacon (*bacon is of course, optional)

INGREDIENTS:

Pasta of your choice (I prefer an egg noodle fettuccine for this dish, since it is lighter and holds the sauce well)
3-4 strips of bacon, roughly chopped into bits (*this is optional)
1 bundle of asparagus, cut into bite-size pieces (make sure to chop off the ends of the stalks and discard, as the base is very woody/fibrous)
3 cloves of garlic (finely minced)
4-5 tablespoons of olive oil (enough to cover the bottom of your saute pan)
2 Tbs. butter (***if you opt not to use the leftover bacon grease)
1 cup half and half
1/4 cup water (*more or less depending on how thick your sauce is)
generous pinch of grated nutmeg
salt and pepper to taste
freshly shaved/grated Parmigiano-Reggiano to finish

DIRECTIONS:

1. For the pasta: fill a large pot with water, add a generous amount of salt, and set on high heat to bring to a boil.
2. In a large saute pan, heat the olive oil over low heat, and add in the chopped bacon. Cook over low-medium heat until desired level of crispiness. Remove with slotted spoon and set aside in separate bowl.
3. You can use the bacon-grease/olive oil in the saute pan as it is, if you’re OK with eating bacon – it will add more flavor to the sauce. If you’re not OK with eating bacon, you’ll have to start with a fresh saute pan and olive oil.
4. Add the chopped asparagus to the saute pan, and cook over low heat, stirring occasionally. You’ll want to cook the asparagus like this until it is fairly tender, but not mushy. Add in the minced garlic after the asparagus has been cooking for about 6 minutes, being careful not to burn the garlic.
5. Once the asparagus has cooked for about 10 minutes in the saute pan, add in the half and half and the water and bring to a low, rolling boil. Cook for an additional 10 minutes in the liquid, stirring occasionally, until the asparagus is very tender.

Pictured here: the asparagus and garlic simmering in the half and half and water

Add in the nutmeg, and salt and pepper to taste.
Now that the asparagus is tender, you can either pour the contents of the saute pan into a blender, and blend on low, or, you can manually mash with a fork or masher (this is what I did). Mashing by hand leaves more texture and visible bits of asparagus so sauce is not a complete puree.
Once you’ve mashed down the asparagus, you may find the sauce is too thick and you need to add a bit more water or half and half! You should also taste test to see if more seasoning is needed.
I chose to hand-mash my asparagus, not only because the blender was dirty, but also because I like the added texture. You’ll know if you haven’t cooked the asparagus long enough, because it will be very difficult to mash by hand if not.
Once you’ve achieved your desired level of thickness and taste, add in the butter, and stir until dissolved. Leave the sauce on the lowest heat setting, so that it remains warm once pasta is done.
Once your pot of pasta water is boiling, add in pasta and cook according to time suggested on pasta box.
Drain the pasta once finished, and add to sauce, gently stirring/tossing to thoroughly coat the noodles.
Serve on plate with freshly grated parm, and top with bacon (if desired)

PHEW! Writing these recipes really does take a lot more brain power and work than actually cooking them!

I’m thankful that it’s Friday, so I don’t have to be on high alert watching my emails or glued to my laptop for the next couple of days. I think the rest of the weekend is going to be cold and shitty, but honestly I don’t care… I’m kind of happy. I’m definitely not feeling confident enough to wear summer clothes at this point, following almost 8 weeks of quarantine (aka binge-eating), so the cold and rain is a welcome relief… not like I could go out looking like a THOT anyhow since all bars, restaurants and clubs are still closed until further notice. You hear that? I’ve got a few more weeks to shape up… literally. LOL.

I made pizza from scratch today… probably doesn’t help my quarantine body, but since it’s a cold day, it’s always a good excuse to use the oven.

In other news, I was tired of all of the white hairs springing up around my temples, and couldn’t possibly wait another month (or longer) to have a professional cover them. I’ve never used dye at home before, and usually only get lowlights/highlights once every 4-5 months. I was really overdue for some lowlights, and couldn’t bare the sight of the whites any longer, so I took a bold step and purchased custom dye from eSalon. I was always scared to try anything with my hair at home because of lack of experience, but also I have a fear of burning off/chemically frying my hair to the point of no return. My boyfriend assisted, and the result is pretty decent, in my opinion.

IMG_1726 (1) — Some vibrant red low-lights to help hide my multiplying whites and brighten me up. I think I actually need to go a shade lighter next time, since my natural color is significantly lighter, and now my blonde brows look out of place… I’m going to wait for my hair dresser though. It’s way better having someone else paint/wash your hair.

What else can I say… not much is new, if you know what I mean. I’ve got my daily routine down pretty pat at this point. Work, walk, work, car ride, cook, TV time, sleep. Sometimes I’ll throw in a walk before work to spice things up, or if work is slow, cook in the middle of the day.

IMG_1784 (1) — Pic from my BF’s job near Times Square… I like to go with him when he needs to go into Manhattan. It’s basically like taking a mini vacation at this point to go into another borough or ride in the car!

Pic (taken from inside the car) of Times Square in the rain the other day

I hope you’re all still staying safe and sane at this point. I’m running out of inspiration for recipes since I’m kind of just over everything. If there’s anything you want to see me cook or try my hand at, feel free to email me or DM on Instagram. I’m always excited to try cooking new things (preferably without meat – but open to seafood)! #Cheers

Quarantine: Day 8

Scratch that title… today was day 10 of quarantine (for me… I’m sure some of you have been home longer or shorter, depending on your situation). I started this blog two or three nights ago, but I’ve been working 12 hour days without leaving my apartment or getting any fresh air or mental breaks. No physical activity apart from manic dance sessions, a few push-ups and some floor ab work. Which doesn’t do shit to negate all of the food I’ve been consuming – not only out of absolute and total boredom, but also the stress of working 12 hour days. It’s a vicious cycle… it really is. I have to stop eating tomorrow (at least, stop eating in the manner I have been, which is probably similar to what a body-builder might be consuming calorie-wise), otherwise, if and when summer finally rolls around and we are allowed to be social again, I won’t be able to be social at all since I will be so unhappy with my physical appearance. Not going out and getting fresh air is killing me. I know I’m not alone in this… but fuck it is draining on my mental state and emotional well-being.

Being stuck inside has really made me value my mobility and my freedom. I feel so much worse now for all of the elderly people and disabled individuals who cannot up and leave their house when they want, or depend on someone to accompany them so that they can leave their house. I feel terrible for all of the elderly people who are home alone 24/7 without even the company of internet friends or family to chat with on the phone. I always had empathy for this group of people, especially because one of my grandmothers rarely got out of her house in the last years of her life, but now I just feel terrible. No one should be so alone and cut off. I’m one of the lucky ones, since I am at least stranded with my boyfriend. At least I have someone to argue with…. JK.

I suppose the most important thing is that we’re all healthy in my family and among my group of friends/co-workers. I am also still employed, which is a relief and puts me in a better position financially than many others who suffered lay-offs as a result of this virus. But HOLY FUCKING SHIT. I am going crazy trying to stay sane and stay inside without my daily 5-6 miles of walking and these 12-hour work days glued to my laptop. I have been dancing like an asshole to 80’s bands (Duran Duran, Depeche Mode, etc.), MC Hammer, classics like “The Humpty Dance,” Michael Jackson, etc. It’s the only way I can burn some energy:

All of the food supplies I bought two weeks ago were used up last week… shows you how good I am at planning for a pandemic. I mean, I didn’t stock up on TP or anything really, because stocking up is impossible when you live in an NYC apartment (Brooklyn, if you’re looking to get specific)… there is just not enough space to store anything in bulk. Grocery stores, delis, and pharmacies are still open for now… so until fresh produce runs out in a few months, I’ll be OK. I still keep thinking this isn’t real… maybe it’s all in my head. Every morning that I wake up, I think I am dreaming and it takes a few minutes to come to terms with reality: no, I don’t have to get up and commute into my Manhattan office; yes, we are quarantined; yes, the world is in-fact FUCKED. Even as I write this, part of me feels like I’m in a dream and this cannot be real life – quarantined in a Brooklyn apartment.

I tried dressing in next to nothing for the first few days of quarantine, hoping it would prevent me from binge eating since I can see my body better and therefore be more “aware” of what I’m putting into it…. didn’t work. Especially after consuming a couple of glasses of vino at night…. I fucking raid the fridge like I haven’t seen food in days.

Since working from home has been so stressful thus far, and each day is so long (8am – 7:30pm or later….), I have been treating myself with copious amounts of wine as compensation. NOT GOOD. I can’t stop though… like, I’m not getting exercise and I can’t leave the house. I’m scared to spend money on anything that isn’t a necessity…. what else do I have to cope??? This week I’m going cold turkey. After the last of the Malbec is gone, I’m done.

Even though work has been off the hook, I’m still scared that I will get laid off in the coming months. Who knows. I guess none of us can possibly know.

I started writing this blog on Tuesday or Wednesday night and it is now Friday. Even though I am trapped inside, I’m thankful I can sleep in tomorrow and not have to concern myself with being glued to my laptop or phone, checking work emails. My big plans are finishing a painting that I started months ago, and taking a walk to the pet store for cat litter. Isn’t that exciting???

Hope you’re all staying healthy and as sane as can be expected.

It Was the Best of Times, It Was the Worst of Times

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I can finally wear what I want “to work,” but I never realized how fucking bored I’d be working from home. Holy shit. I guess I am a type A in a lot of ways (***mostly not… honestly, I hate type A people… they’re boring and annoying). But, I guess I thrive on routine (at least during week days). I am only on day two (2) of working from home/”quarantine” and I am already going crazy from not leaving my apartment. If I can’t take my daily walks, I don’t know how I will survive. I am trying to do floor exercises and refrain from eating, if not hungry, but I’m ALWAYS hungry, since I’m fucking bored. I always imagined it would be awesome working from home, but I guess not under these circumstances.

This was me on day one of quarantine (aka, yesterday). I woke up and had time to ACTUALLY take care of myself. For once in my life, I had time to do a face mask… in the MORNING. I was still so full of hope…. I had the whole world ahead of me. I woke up at a decent hour and did a face mask and some push ups. And now? I’ve realized we are fucked. We’re not going back to what we had.

I’m scared of job security. I’m scared of my parents or my boyfriend’s parent’s getting sick… I’m not scared for myself. I can take anything. I probably actually honestly already had the virus. I just don’t want my family to be sick, and I don’t want to lose my job as a result of the market crashing. My boyfriend works in hospitality, so sadly, he is currently unemployed since all restaurants, clubs and bars were mandated to close. I just don’t want it to get worse…. how much worse can it actually get though? I just imagine food shortages, riots in the street, and people being turned away from already-full hospitals would be worst-case scenario.

I mean, I survived the great recession… I feel pretty confident I can live on a bag of rice or some lentils for 4 months and be fine. I just worry about our future. The future of us. My generation has been so so so fucked over, and the generations below me, even more so. Humanity made this mess though – between over-population, mass agriculture, factory farming, all of the shit we have done that contributed to global warming, and now eating endangered, wild animals which has led to this pandemic (“allegedly”… I believe this virus was manufactured in and released from a lab)… we brought this on ourselves.

I don’t know – I guess be careful what you wish for. I’ve been wishing for more time off with my boyfriend since we have one day a week (at best) and totally opposite sleep and work schedules. Well kids, we finally have some time off together – locked inside our one-bedroom Brooklyn apartment with no where to go, nothing to do, and even if we could go out, nothing is open. It fucking sucks. But I am thankful that we’re healthy, our families are healthy, are friends are healthy, and I still have a job (for now).

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Switching over to food (I’m sure we’ve all been bombarded with enough news about corona to last three lifetimes now…), I made this delicious eggplant parm on Sunday. The key to good eggplant parm is breading with flour instead of breadcrumbs. I don’t have the ambition to write Any recipes right now, since I don’t really care about food right now. Just kidding – I always care about food. It is the only thing that drives me and inspires me in these dark times. And also tortures me when I am trying not to eat to much of it as I am trapped inside and sedentary….

I also made this focaccia the other day (Saturday, when I still felt sick). Food is the only thing that is constant. Food is important regardless of what is happening. It is what unites us, feeds us, comforts us, or, in my case, makes us suicidal when we’re trapped inside and can’t stop eating it. And soon, we may not have enough of it to go ’round. #cheers

Here – my cats. They’re cute, right? I know. It’s the only thing cute and welcoming I have going for me. Hopefully they can add some joy to your day as well. Shameless shout out if you need some cute cats in your life: instagram.com/peepsandtuna.

Well kids – I have nothing else to say. I’m just hanging on here… taking shit day-by-day. I hope everyone reading is doing the same – staying safe and healthy, and trying their best to also stay mentally and emotionally healthy in these trying times.

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….

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.