nyc – The High Heeled C*ntessa

The World is on Fire and She’s Fixing her Hair

Does everyone else realize this world is doomed and the end is near? I think some people are blissfully oblivious to the severity of humanity’s current situation. I know it’s a pessimistic outlook and a morbid one, but between the war Russia has waged against Ukraine, the grim realization that Putin is unhinged enough to use nuclear weapons, and the ever growing threat of global warming wiping out the entire living world, the future of earth and life on it is not looking promising…

You can only go to so many protests and donate so much money (especially in my income bracket), and none of seems to make a difference. I have so much pent of anger and aggression I wish I could take a leave of absence from work and go fight or volunteer on the front line

I wish there was more I could do to help. I wish I didn’t need to work in order to afford rent, pay bills and feed myself. If I was independently wealthy or had enough money in the bank for the future, I would devote my life to rescuing animals or working for a non-profit that helps refugees. The sad reality is, I need a job that pays money to afford my life. Although I’m over everything… living in this city, working at a law firm, paying bills and still just somehow getting by despite working non stop. I don’t think I’d mind working so much if I was benefiting some cause or helping people…. instead, I help the rich get richer as I continue slaving away at the bottom of the food chain, so to speak. I’m not complaining – I’m grateful my country is not at war and I have a secure home and food on the table. But it seems so pointless most of the time…. working to pay rent and bills…. not helping any specific cause or the world around me as it crumbles day by day. I can’t do this forever… but I am so over working for other people and corporations. I want to work for myself but I’m not sure how to start without going into debt… and that is scary when you have no money.

Every since the pandemic started in 2020, I’ve seen an array of people selling their artwork and somehow making a profit. No offense to anyone – but some of this art work is nothing I’d ever consider “good” or anything I’d would think would ever sell for more than $50 (SIDE NOTE: art is totally subjective and in the eye of the beholder, like beauty – so my opinion counts for very little). Anyhow, it made me realize that perhaps I can also sell my art… why not? There’s a market out there for everything, CLEARLY. If you or anyone you know is looking for a grunge, “colorful” portrait of a woman, please feel free to contact me here or on IG. I’ve also listed my work on Saatchiart.com.

GRUNGE GIRLS: The Collection

* This one is my newest piece and is not finished*

I started this one in 2020 and sadly also have not yet finished

The one big snow we had in NYC this year: perfect opportunity to wear my ski suit and earmuffs

It’s been five months since I went off the deep end and decided to bleach my hair. I regretted it immediately, but after a few washes, the blonde looked OK for a couple of months. by Mid-February, I was over it. Blonde just is not my color or my personality… at all. I desperately want[ed] to return to red/stawberry-blonde, so I made an appointment with my hair dresser upstate, so I wouldn’t have to fork over a month’s rent to dye my hair again. Who knew that you couldn’t go from bleached blonde to red in one process/sitting?! I sure as hell didn’t. My hair dresser had to let me down when she told me I would risk my hair turning pink or orange if she tried to go from bleached to red in one day. I was devastated when I realized I will basically be a brunette until I can go see her again to complete the process. I mean, the brunette is actually a refreshing change from the blonde, but my hair has never been this dark, and it gives me kind of an emo vibe with my fair skin. I’m counting down the days until I see her again at the end of April. In the meantime, I am jealous of every redhead I see on the street….

I read so many books since the pandemic started in 2020 – more in one year (2020) since I’ve read altogether since college. I’m glad that I rediscovered my love of reading and books and have continued to buy/read more books since the first lockdown. In the last two weeks, I read “Not Dead and Not for Sale,” Scott Weiland’s memoir, and then, because I enjoyed that so much, felt compelled to buy and read his ex-wife, Mary Forsberg’s memoir “Fall to Pieces.” I must say, her memoir, which was published two years before he wrote his, was way more interesting and also better-written (she had a co-author/writer, whereas I am quite sure Scott Weiland did not). I literally did not put the book down and finished it in two days, even though I worked both days. I spent every free minute and both evenings reading it – I was sad when it was over. I love books like that – when someone tells a story in first-person and you feel like you are there/have been there with them. I love when people are honest and relatable. I need to find more books like this.

The only other books that I have enjoyed so much recently are of a similar nature. I really loved “My Dark Vanessa” by Kate Elizabeth Russell. I plowed through that in the first few days of quarantine in March 2020. Then I also plowed through “How to Murder Your Life”, by Cat Marnell a month later. I also loved “Meet me in the Bathroom,” by Lizzy Goodman, about the late 90s/early 2000s indie/rock scene in NYC. Like I couldn’t get enough – first hand accounts, places I remember, bands I loved, sex, drugs, rock and roll. It really makes for great reading. If anyone has any suggestions, please drop a comment or reach out via IG. I am desperately seeking a new book that I can’t put down.

New York is Dead… for Now

It’s true what they say, New York is dead. It’s not just dead… it’s a dirty, dangerous, ghost town, where crime is rampant, garbage is everywhere, and storefronts and restaurants are empty. Everyone with money left – they went to their houses in the Hamptons, or bought a house upstate. Others, who are not rich, but lost their jobs in the pandemic and couldn’t possibly continue to pay NYC rent, also left. They went back to whatever hometown they originally came from – either to live rent free with their family for a while, or if they could afford to do so, they made the move to another city or town somewhere other than here – perhaps to a city that is still alive with a hospitality industry that hasn’t been totally SHIT ON by the Governor. I’m still here, because I can’t afford to move (yet), and also because my job is based here (even though I work remotely, and pray we will be able to continue to do so for the rest of eternity). My boyfriend’s job is also here, and sadly his is a job that cannot be done remotely (restaurant/hospitality industry). If I had the money or option to just pick up and leave, believe me, I would have done so years ago… I’ve wanted to leave NYC for the last three years, but these past 10 months have been the nail in the coffin, my friend.

I’ve lived here since 2012, and before that, I did two years of college here from 2006-2008. I can honestly say, I’ve never seen the city so dirty, run-down, dangerous, or deserted as it is right now. Everyday, random people are getting slashed on sidewalks, pushed into oncoming subway trains, randomly attacked at subway stations IN BROAD DAYLIGHT, etc.. I’ve never been scared to ride the subway alone – especially during rush hour or in broad daylight (apart from when a terrorist attack happened elsewhere and made me dwell on an attack happening on the subway…). Now? I avoid the subway at all costs unless I’m with my boyfriend. I had to take it the other day to run an errand for work, and during rush hour, RUSH HOUR (8:30am) the train was totally deserted and the stations were totally deserted, save for a few homeless people. It’s eerie, and straight up dangerous. There’s not a soul around to see you if you get attacked or hear you scream for help. All of Chambers St. station in lower Manhattan was TOTALLY empty.

In the past 6 months or so, the times I do ride the train, what I see is tragic. There are more homeless people than ever before – also a lot of criminals and mentally ill homeless people, and also criminals that have been released from prison due to COVID. People who commit violent crimes are being released back onto the streets… and it shows. I’m not saying that the homeless people are the issue – although it’s clear HOMELESSNESS itself, IS an issue. It’s the violent, psychopaths starting fights and carrying knives that I’m talking about. The shit I’ve seen in the last few months, I have never ever seen before in my years in NYC… and believe me, as someone who rode the subway everyday and used it at night… I’ve seen some shit in my years (a guy masturbating into his coat, had my ass grabbed on a crowded train, people riding the train in underwear, people having psychotic breakdowns on the train, a fight on the platform… the list goes on).

A month ago, I was traveling back to Brooklyn from Manhattan with my boyfriend and I saw what appeared to be a homeless man, robbing another homeless man, who was either dead or hopefully just knocked out on drugs and in a wheelchair. I have seen junkies shooting up heroin on the stairs of subway stations at 5pm, making no effort to hide what they’re doing and had to step around them to exit the station. There are no cops to be seen anywhere these days. There used to be officers randomly patrolling the subway stations at all hours of the day – but especially the busy stations (Union Square, 34th Street, 42nd Street/Times Square) and especially during rush hour. Now? I never see a single officer. Like who would I even report what I saw to (in the case of the dead/drugged up homeless guy)? Who would I scream to for help if someone tried to assault me?

I’m not even scared to ride the subways because of COVID. I’m scared because of the lack of people, and the growing increase of subway violence. Just a couple of weeks ago, some guy was punching/beating up women at a subway station in Bushwick, not too far from my house. The attacks were happening around 8pm… a perfectly acceptable time for a woman to be riding the subway alone. Not that that should even be a FUCKING THING – “an acceptable time” for a woman to ride the subway….. Women should be able to safely ride the subway at any time of the day or night by themselves and be and feel safe. What I’m trying to say, is that it’s not like the attacks happened at an off-hour, like 2am. After six different women got attacked by the same dude and at the same station, they finally caught this asshole. I hope he stays in jail for a long time and doesn’t get released back onto the streets because of COVID. I never thought I’d have to anxiously wait up for my boyfriend every weekend when he comes home from work, alone, at 11pm and on the train. But I do worry – it’s fucking dangerous out there. We both have pepper spray key chains now, but I’m not sure what good that will do if a psycho with a machete shows up in your subway care and no one else is there but you and him.

There are straight-up tent cities/homeless compounds sprouting up everywhere – under the BQE (Brooklyn-Queens Expressway), on sidewalks, wherever. The trash removal and city cleaners have all experienced cutbacks, so there are just piles of trash and litter EVERYWHERE. I’m honestly not sure how the MTA is even going to survive since no one is riding it, apart from a few essential workers. The city is in legit shambles. SoHo, the mecca of tourist shopping, is also ghost town USA. More than half the stores are gone and the spaces remain empty with “For Rent” signs in them. I honestly don’t know how the city will ever recover from this. I don’t think it can.

And if all of what I’m saying here has you thinking about the rebuke Jerry Seinfeld wrote in the NYTimes regarding New York NOT being dead, I’m pretty sure that mega rich asshole wrote that think-piece from his multi-million dollar estate in the Hamptons… not sitting inside his NYC townhouse while trash bags piled up on the side walk and a homeless person took a dump on the sidewalk. Furthermore, unless you currently still live here, you have no fucking say.

I’m convinced all of the people who left have most likely realized they’re much happier wherever they went to – paying less rent, lower prices for groceries, people are pretty much nicer and more friendly everywhere else, and enjoying all that fresh air and more space. The only reason I ever came to NYC was for the job opportunities, culture, and nightlife. Now, that’s all gone. Why would I continue to live here as long as I can keep working remotely for the same company? Why would I choose to pay $2,350 a month for a 1 bdrm. apartment in a crappy neighborhood, when I could be putting that down on a mortgage for what is essentially a mini-mansion anywhere else in the country? Paying $20 for a fucking cocktail I can get for $9 anywhere else in the country? So I can have bragging rights that I live in NYC? I don’t think so….

Anyhow, darling, this blog has totally evolved from the food blog it was once supposed to be. So, on that note, here is my recipe for mushroom carbonara (vegetarian, but not vegan):

MUSHROOM CARBONARA

INGREDIENTS:

1/3 cup olive oil (plus 2 TBS. more to finish)
3 Portobello mushrooms
3 eggs (I try to buy my eggs directly from a farm where I can see the chickens in action – I know this isn’t a possibility if you don’t live near any small farms, but please splurge on your eggs, and at the very least please make sure they come from cage-free, free-range, humanely raised chickens)
Linguini or spaghetti
Fresh basil (finely chopped)
Fresh parsley (finely chopped)
1/2 small white or yellow onion (finely minced)
4 cloves of garlic (finely minced)
1 cup of good-quality Parmigiano-Reggiano (finely grated)
1 lemon
1-2 tsp. dried oregano
1/2 tsp. Smoked paprika (*optional* – adds a nice smokey flavor, similar to bacon)
Salt and black pepper
1/3 cup pasta water (taken from the pot of boiling pasta, when it’s almost finished cooking)

DIRECTIONS:

Wash and chop your mushrooms and set aside; finely chop onion and garlic
Heat olive oil over low heat in a medium-sized sauce pan, and add in finely chopped onion; stir occasionally over low heat until soft and translucent
Once onion is soft and starting to yellow, add in the garlic and cook for another minute or so, being careful garlic does not burn
Add in the chopped mushrooms, dried oregano, salt, pepper, a generous pinch of smoked paprika, and cook over low-medium heat for about 10-12 minutes or until mushrooms are thoroughly cooked
Add in the chopped basil, cover, and turn heat to lowest setting (or off if your stove runs hot and will continue to cook)
Prepare large pot of water (heavily salted) for pasta, but setting on high-heat and bringing to a boil
While you wait for the pasta water to boil, beat together the three eggs, 1/2 cup Parmigiano, and juice from 1 lemon until you have a thick, rich “sauce”. Set aside
Once the water is boiling, cook your pasta per the timing directions on the box (you’ll want it to be al dente)
While the pasta is cooking, I will usually turn the heat back onto low (if I turned it off) to make sure the mushroom mixture stays warm; this is also when you want to use a ladle or measuring cup to extract and set aside 1/3 cup of the pasta water
Drain pasta once it is done cooking, and then add it back into pot along with some extra olive oil, egg mixture, 1/3 cup of the reserved pasta water, an additional 1/3 cup of grated Parmigiano, and the chopped parsley
You’ll want to taste-test now, to see if more pepper, salt, or fresh lemon might be necessary
Mix together until the pasta is well coated and mushroom mix is uniformly distributed, and serve topped with an extra sprinkle of parm and fresh parsley!

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

INDIGO WOKE UP IN MYKONOS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bouillabaisse and Burnout

Have you ever been so tired, not just physically tired, but emotionally and mentally exhausted – so depleted of any and all patience you once had and any fucks you once gave, that you consider smashing your alarm/phone when it goes off every morning and never going into work ever again, despite the consequences? Are you so tired at the end of every work day and work week that even social engagements that should be fun seem like one more box to check off on your to-do list? You can’t even enjoy sleeping past 9am on a Saturday morning, because as you lie in bed knowing that even though you could easily sleep another 3 hours, you think about all the errands and cleaning you need to get done that you didn’t have time for on the week days? If this sounds like you…. welcome to the club, friend.

I never realized how exhausting daily life is until maybe around two years ago, when I actually started caring about the things I didn’t when I was 25… things like moisturizing my aging skin, washing off my makeup after being out late, making sure I have essentials like coffee, paper towels and toilet paper stocked before they run out and I wake up to no coffee and no TP, following up with friends, keeping a semi-full fridge so I can make real food instead of living on rice and frozen peas, and keeping mostly spotless floors and counter tops. Shit is exhausting on top of working full time to pay rent and bills! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I have no idea how my mom worked full time, cooked most nights of the week, and juggled three kids and their respective schedules. I just juggle myself, a boyfriend and one very demanding cat, and it’s all I can do not to collapse on the couch as soon as I am home from work every day.

My VERY demanding cat ^^^

I’ve been thinking about the term “burnout” a lot today, after reading a pretty good article about it’s effect on my generation. I’m lucky I have a good full-time job and am not juggling multiple gigs, or even worse, unemployed and dealing with the stress of finding work. I am also lucky that I don’t have to worry about taking care of kids on top of everything else at this point in my life (although kids are a conscious CHOICE), so I shouldn’t complain, but goddamn I need a vacation or a life style change.

I think a change of city, state, or preferably country is in order. I think a simpler life, a life with less stress, could be achieved if I didn’t live in such a hard city to get by in. NYC is brutally exhausting. Time moves so fast and doesn’t stop for anyone or anything. I know that is true of anywhere, especially as one grows older and begins to feel time tick by in a way it doesn’t when you’re still an adolescent. However, I feel like there are places where people force themselves to slow down and appreciate the simple pleasures of life and the beauty of life and people who surround them – dinners with family and friends, grocery shopping and meal preparation on a Sunday afternoon; nature and all of its offerings, a work culture with ACTUAL FUCKING VACATIONS AND HOLIDAYS (Cough**ALL OF EUROPE! **Cough!), a work culture where you and your spouse will have substantial and PAID time off of work following the addition of a new child to the family. This…. THIS is the kind of life I want. I’m tired of living in a country where basic human needs aren’t met unless you score a decent job. Shouldn’t everyone be entitled to healthcare, good education, and paid maternity/paternity leave? I’m also so tired of the fucking rat race that is NYC. Why do I continue to live here? What reward do I get each day for making myself submit to the horrors of the MTA and hourly commute to and from the office? A paycheck that just about covers rent and bills? Is that a reward? I’m not rich…. and I certainly never will be if I continue living here and doing what I am doing for a living now throwing so much money to the wind each month for an apartment I will never own. Honestly, the only good things about living here at this point, are being close to my family, being in a hub of creative, liberal, and open-minded people, the endless amount of things to do, good places to eat, and places to party … oh, and the fact that every decent band or musical artist ALWAYS plays NYC….

The only thing I will truly miss about this city when I finally leave, are the abundance of good parties… does Vermont have after-hours? Does Venice have 24 hour day-time parties? I don’t think so….

I digress. Back to the food! Cooking is the one thing that a lot of people consider just another chore or something they need to do if they want to eat at the end of the day. I want to live in a place where it’s a way of life – slowly prepared and slowly eaten meals, enjoyed in the company of those you love with copious amounts of wine, and laughter. I want to be a part of a culture where food isn’t processed, cooked and eaten on the fly. Fuck Chipotle, and fucked your Chop’t salads. I want a finely aged balsamic vinegar, I want cured fish, and homemade pasta that it took someone all day to prepare.

I spent my Sunday actually relaxing. For me, this meant not leaving the apartment until 5pm to go to the grocery store. I decided to make another rich soup/stew, and because I wanted to cook a time-consuming dish, one that would allow me the pleasure of standing over the stove stirring a pot for 2 hours while simultaneously chopping produce and sipping wine, I decided to make bouillabaisse, which if you are unfamiliar, is a french seafood/fish stew.

INGREDIENTS:

*** NOTE: This is a pretty expensive dish to make – so I would suggest making for a hot date or a special occasion or cooking for someone you really love and/or someone you want to impress! Feel free to improvise with the fresh seafood – clams can be substituted for the mussels, fresh lobster if you’re feeling extra decadent and rich and willing to cook and clean it separately, or even calamari!***

4 cups (32 Oz.) Seafood Stock
A few threads of saffron (** hard to find and really pricey – this shit is like $20 for a few threads…)
1 fillet (about 1 pound) of cod or haddock
1/2 lb. of raw shrimp
1 bag of fresh mussels (clean and scrub outer shells)
1/2 lb. scallops
1 cup white wine (dry, not sweet)
1 small can tomato paste
1-2 cups water
1 large can crushed tomatoes (San Marzano is preferable)
1 small carton of grape or cherry tomatoes, rinsed and halved
2 bay leaves (dried are fine)
2 bulbs of fennel with the stalks attached (you’ll need the feathery leaves) (chop fennel into ribbons – set aside green feathery herb bits)
1 sack of small yellow or red potatoes, chopped in halves (the small round ones, or fingerlings)
2 stalks of celery, finely chopped
4 cloves of garlic, finely minced
1/2 of a white onion, finely chopped
1-2 tsp. cayenne pepper
1 Tablespoon smoked paprika
salt and pepper to taste
4 tablespoons olive oil
french baguette or a good loaf of french-style peasant bread, sliced, drizzled with olive oil and lightly toasted in over (bake for like 6 minutes at 400 degrees to golden brown)

Saffron threads… found in the spice aisle. Literally priced like gold. This will set you back $10-20 depending on weight

DIRECTIONS:

Figure it out yourself.

JK!…. I’m so funny sometimes :p

Heat oil in large soup pot, add in onions and sautee over low heat until translucent and yellow.
Add in garlic AND bay leaves, and continue cooking over low heat for another couple of minutes… DO NOT BURN GARLIC!
Add in fennel and celery, continue cooking over low heat for another 7 minutes or so.
Add in chopped cherry/grape tomatoes and cook for another 5 minutes.
Pour entire box of seafood stock into pot; add in entire can of tomato paste, and entire can of crushed tomatoes; add water as you see fit… probably around 1 cup or so.
Bring to a boil and then reduced heat.
***OPTIONAL*** (but also preferable): Blend about 3/4 contents of the pot in a blender and return to pot…. this will create a thicker, heartier stew as opposed to a lighter broth. If you are making bouillabaisse in true French style; you would actually blend everything in the pot, and then pass all liquid back through a strainer so as to ONLY have broth and then throw out any remaining pulp/chopped veggies.
Once you have attained the thickness/consistency you prefer for liquid portion of the soup by blending or not blending, straining or not straining, add in the potatoes and bring to boil.
Add in a few threads (a generous pinch) of saffron, along with cayenne pepper, smoked paprika, salt and pepper… this is the part of cooking where you use half your spoons to keep tasting your soup :p
Continue cooking at a low boil until potatoes are soft (use the fork to test).
Add in 1 cup of white wine and reduce heat to low-medium.
Add in the mussels and cook for about 5 minutes.
Add in the shrimp and scallops, cook another 3 minutes.
Add in the fish and cook another 4 minutes.
DO NOT OVERCOOK once the seafood has gone in, so as to avoid tough or rubbery seafood.
Serve hot with toasted bread and garnish of chopped fennel herb!!!

Fennel bulb and fennel “herbs”… those feathery green parts are what you will use for extra garnish and flavor once you serve the soup. Fennel has a structure similar to onions with layers.

Onion, garlic, bay leaves, and fennel …. next, the tomatoes go into cook, followed by all of the liquids

I suggest removing the bay leaves, and then blending about half of the contents of the pot once all liquids are added and fennel and tomatoes are soft.

Consistency of soup after blending, and before adding potatoes and seafood… thick, and opaque, but not puree or too thick… should still be broth-like
Saffron!!!!!

Make sure mussels are well scrubbed and rinsed prior to going into soup to eliminate any dirt or grit… also, be careful eating soup; you never know when a shell may have broken off and you don’t want to break your teefs