asscat

Dear Cat,

We seem to be having some communication problems. This is going to be harsh, but I'm going to be completely honest. I think I would like you more if:
-you didn't chew on every plastic bag that catches your eye and make me think you're going to die from choking.
-your hair wasn't on every piece of clothing I own.
-you didn't push your head into my face like you think you're all cute or something.
-you didn't poop, ever.
-you didn't bite my socks or scratch my yoga mat.

I especially would like it if when - in a moment of brief and naive happiness - I decided to cuddle with you on my lap, you didn't decide it would be awesome to climb on my shoulder and claw holes in my really cool t-shirt.

I think I would like it best if you were a goldfish.

Maybe we should just be friends... or better yet, distant acquaintances. Meaning you get to live in the coffee table with the doors on it while I live everywhere else. OK?

Kisses,
MOLLY

Nutella is the new pink frosting

Kids: crack is whack (you were right Whitney). But you know what's whacker?? NUTELLA.

Nutella has suddenly replaced the pink frosting as the every-hour-of-day craving, the item that is ending up on everything: graham crackers, rice cakes, tortillas, sweatshirts. Notice how all of these items are relatively healthy until spread a thick layer of hazelnut/chocolate love on them? Well, except sweatshirts, but those are healthy for cold arms. And cold souls. The point is that Nutella so fabulously transforms an everyday snack into something CHOCOLATE and FATTENING.

So if you're looking to get fat the chocolate way, kids, Nutella is the way to go. If you're looking for hard drugs, I have nothing to say. Except this:


It's not even worth a crazy reality show with your husband, OK?

There goes the neighborhood

Hey kids! I'm back in NYC! So those damn rogue vehicles better look out. I'm TITANIUM, bitches. And now that I'm back, I'm of course spending way to much time wandering around stores and looking at stuff that I should not be buying.

Which brings me to the subject of H&M. Usually, I love H&M. Everything is pretty cheap and they currently have a poofy purple skirt that I'm obsessed with. But sometimes I just feel too old for it, as if I've stepped into a giant junior high girls locker room. No, H&M people, I actually don't want want to listen to Panic Unecessary Exclamation Point At The Disco while I step over piles of leggings that have been dropped everywhere. I feel like I'm 45 already and telling people that in my day music had words and not just eyeliner and we respected our accessories. REALLY, H&M, let's establish special shopping hours for those under 17 or something. And don't let Madonna design "fashion" ever again.

On a completely separate side note, my best housewarming gift so far? A big container of neon pink frosting. Hell. Yes. Totally not helping my back fat problem.

With a Z

Holy crap, it's Liza Minelli's birthday! And I didn't know until THIS MOMENT. I totally would have had a Liza Minelli party! With lots of sequins and fake eyelashes and vodka! Um, if I didn't live with my parents right now. Wow, I can't believe she's 61. Well, actually I kinda can ... I thought she'd be, like, 73 by now.

And in other news, I am a middle-aged gay man trapped in a young woman's body.

exclamation point

I hate how the moment I follow a link to Myspace from my email, their page greets me with "You have to be logged in to do that!" - complete with the explanation point. Why so hostile, Myspace? I just got to your page, I wasn't trying anything illegal, I wasn't looking for child pornography or heroin dealers, so calm down.

On a completely separate note, I learned from my weekly Topshop email that they now make harem pants. Or, ahem, a harem pant, so as not to be confused with pants, which is what the crazy Brits call their skivvies. Anyway, it looks to me like someone in Shaghai got confused with Hammer pants. Or maybe these are for overgrown toddlers. Either way, I don't understand. Topshop is amazing 95% of the time, but this is obviously from that 5% that makes you go "Wait. What?"

You have to be a crazy Brit to wear the harem pant!

I'm so full...

...of cheese.

It's true.

Ugh.

truffle shuffle

I am turning into a big blob. Today I told myself:
"I will eat healthy food"
"I will eat three healthy meals composed of real things, not just baked goods and breakfast cereal"
"I will not stand idly in the kitchen opening all the cabinets and wondering how I got Hershey's syrup all over the place"

Well. Some of this came true. I did eat two healthy-like meals so far (because, for some reason, I naturally got up at 7:40am and decided to stay up). But in between my healthy-like meals, almost unconciously, I ate:
-Two handfuls of imitation Honey Bunches of Oats
-Four tea biscuit things
-A Japanese lollipop
-A chocolate pizelle cookie
-A handful of Trader Joe's trail mix
This is all completely compulsive; I don't even realize it until the crumbs are all over me. It's like those people who claimed they gained weight from taking Ambien because they would wake up and eat in their sleep. Except I'm not taking Ambien. And it's daytime.

I suppose I should just enjoy my fatness now that I have this "vacation" from the outside world for a while. The only person that has to see me in a bathing suit anyway is my physical therapist.

*sigh*

Please pass the Hershey's syrup.

HAIR

I got a haircut last weekend and, as I was feeling dangerous, gave in to the suggestion that my mom pick out the style. Plus, she paid for it so I figured it was fair.

I've decided that I either look like Karen O:

Or Fabienne in Pulp Fiction:


Or maybe just a mid-18th-century boy who wears britches (no picture for that ... you can imagine it).

Hair is such a difficult thing. Especially now that I have allllll this time to obsess about it.

Come on down!!!

Now that I am stuck home whilst waiting for my bones to heal, I'm back to watching bad daytime TV. My parents only get seven channels, so there aren't even that many channel surfing options. My two hours of late-morning physical therapy exercises are now accompanied by me flipping between Rachael Ray (the talk show, not the food show... although I guess there is food still involved) and Martha Stewart, then The View and The Price Is Right.

Which is how I came to my latest revelation today that The Price Is Right is stuck in a weird time warp that combines the mid 1970s with the early 1990s. Seriously, the decor is all orange and purple with glitter trim while the models wear stuff that I think my sister wore to her junior prom in 1993. Today, when the magic walls parted to reveal a new set of skis, the model was wearing this giant parka with three big navy, teal, and magenta stripes. And I think that was all she was wearing. Yep, just a parka and heels. But the point is, I swear my best friend in fourth grade had the same exact one, funnel neck and all. These women may as well start flipping up their bangs with huge amounts of Rave.

The only change on The Price Is Right - one that makes me a little sad - is that Bob Barker no longer has the microphone that looks like an over-sized lollipop on an extra long stick. The top is now a bit more streamlined and is almost the same shape as a normal, modern-day microphone. It still has the extra long stick though. Maybe while the decor stays in the '70s and the models stay in the '90s, the microphone is stuck somewhere in between. But I'm not sure I mean the '80s.

I spend way too much time indoors.

i'm actually alive

Just wanted to say a few things:

-Yes, I'm still here, I did not desert my beloved [nonexistent] fans. I just got hit by a van, that's all. Just a minor thing, really.
-No, I'm not going to write a lot right now because I can only type with my left hand and right index finger. O pity me.
-And maybe it was a bad idea to drink that big delicious mug of tea because now I'm going to go to bed and as soon as I get in my PJs, brush my teeth, and get all cozy in bed with a magazine, I'll have to get up and pee. Damn you, liquids.

PS: I love commas.

,,,,,,,,,,

whew

In my moment of panic last Friday, I actually wrote Jelly Belly:

Your Question :Does the bacon flavor contain real meat extracts? Because
that's scary when you're a vegetarian and you're eating an assortment in the
dark.

They wrote back today:

Our Solution :
Thank you for visiting our site. We hope the following information
answers your question.
Thank you for your e-mail.
Bertie Bott's does not
contain real bacon; however, our sardine Bertie Bott's jelly beans are
flavored with cod liver oil.

OK, I feel a little better. But, ew, don't eat the sardine flavor.

oh my god bacon. or garlic.

OK, since I decided I couldn't sleep without really discovering the truth, I had to check out the official Jelly Belly website.

And, holy crap, Jelly Belly is the manufacturer of those psycho crazy Harry Potter-esque Bertie Bott's and they have a BACON FLAVOR!! Oh god I need to bleach out my mouth.

BUT, I figure that Economy Candy would not be that mean and mix the Bertie Bott's beans in with the standard Jelly Belly assortment. Right??? Because in that case, it very well may be one of their "rookie" flavors, Roasted Garlic. But still, WHO WOULD WANT A GARLIC JELLYBEAN? Probably just the same stupid ten-year-old that wants a bacon-flavored one. The fact is, neither should be a jellybean.

So, yeah, no idea if I ate a Bacon one or a Roasted Garlic one (or three), but either way I will never eat Jelly Bellys in a darkened movie theatre again. And I need a lot of Listerine right now.

For Dreaface

I'm finally writing again because I have something to write about. OK, maybe two things. OK, actually two and a half.

1) I have a JOB, people. A real job. OK, kind of a real job but at least a real job in the sense that it's not an internship. I'm going to be a front desk assistant at CAP21, a cool studio/conservatory/performance space that I am too lazy to explain right now. That's why I take the time to post LINKS. Yay. Yeah, the pay and hours aren't ideal to start with, but it's a good starting point for NYC and it helps that it's full of crazy artist/theatre people just like me. Plus, as I was leaving my interview they were all really excited to show me their new coffeemaker and shelving units. I know it doesn't sound that exciting, but trust me, these are my people.

2) I saw The Science of Sleep today, which was pretty f-ing amazing. Michel Gondry is my hero. But I can't even begin to describe the film without sounding like I'm high. Go see it! Oh, and...

2.5) While watching I ate way too many Jelly Bellys and three times I swear I chomped on a bacon-flavored one. WHAT?? This can't be happening.

sick

I feel like a five-year-old.

Due to the plague that has invaded my body I have been subsisting on primarily the following: saltines, Cheerios, applesauce, soup, juice, and popsicles. Ignore the fact that I wash it all down with green tea and I could be back in preschool. At least in preschool it's completely accepted to fall down on the floor and take a nap.

Luckily I have the Sudafed-induced heart palpitations to keep me alert.

Thank you, Byrne Dairy

Today I bought ten ice cream sandwiches for only $1.99! That's right folks, TEN melty, sugary, dairy confections for only TWO bucks. And THEN I found out that today (ok, yesterday, since it's now after midnight) is National Ice Cream Sandwich Day! It was meant to be. AND they even got whisked to a freezer without serious meltage en route. Now I need to just not eat them all by myself.

Sadly, I think that's the most exciting thing that's happened to me all week.

for real real, not for play play

No more denial, I need a job in the fall. For serious. And a JOB job, not....Starbucks. Although it may come down to that. Not to knock all of you working at Starbucks - they make a tasty cup o' joe - but I'd rather do something related to, you know, my actual college degree. But seeing as how I majored in Theatre, maybe I just need to suck it up and make cappucinos for awhile. Wow I really want some coffee now.

I wanted to go see one of the side project shows that starts in about a half hour, but I just got a call from one of the lighting designers saying that she's about a half hour away. Which means that I have to go meet her, as I am the only one in the office. Funny how that always conveniently happens to me. I mean, why do I actually have to work when I just want to run away to watch some weird show written by a sound designer-turned-wannabe-playwright involving a giant duct tape-covered knife? WHY?? Hmmm, maybe this is why I can't find my ideal job.

Joy

Dark chocolate-covered espresso beans are the only things keeping me alive right now. Seriously.

black is the new black

The pimping story:
It was not quite a cupcake, not quite beautiful, but still worth the effort. And still quite tasty, actually.

If I had a digital camera, I could show you the glory, but you'll have to imagine it. Or someone with pictures on their cell should figure out how to upload them and send them to me *ahem*andreaandrebecca*ahemhmm*.

I should have known it was going to all go downhill when we decided to make the top icing blue. There was much arguing over whether it should be a golden-yellow or a chocolate-brown so we went with blue instead ... for springtime. Or Independence Day - minus the red. Or something. ANYWAY, it turns out that I was thinking of the golden-orange cupcakes and Rebecca was thinking of the golden cupcakes with chocolate icing, which I truly swear I have never seen. Maybe it's a city thing. I still declare no victories in this argument. The hardest part of the construction was getting the layers to stand up once we cut out the middle for the creamy filling (which, in my opinion, was the best and dreamiest part). By the time we got the top on and haphazardly made the trademark swirl, it collapsed. Then it was just gross.

Overall: an exciting, sugary, messy, beautiful time. Do it yourself. Just add beer.

And in other news, I dyed my hair BLACK. That's right, I'm all Ashlee-Simpson-trying-to-be-punk. Before the nose job. No ... I'm just an evil version of my original self.

Oh MAN

So look what I JUST found:

Another brilliant idea already taken.

Damn.

I'm gonna pimp a sna-ack!

Forget job searching - my latest project is SNACK PIMPING! Thanks to the fine Brits who brought us Pimp That Snack (formerly Pimp My Snack, until Viacom got their panties all in a twist), I - with a little help from my friends - am going to pimp out my own snack. OK, it was really Andrea's idea to attempt such a feat, but I'm taking credit for showing her the site...kinda...OK, via The Girl Who Ate Everything. Whatever, I'm taking some credit.

I really wanted to make a pimped-out Pop Tart, since Pop Tarts are the epitome of all that is wonderful in the world of junk food, but apparently someone already beat me to it. So...instead we will attempt to pimp the all-American HOSTESS CUPCAKE. No, no, not attempt. We WILL. And hopefully I will be able to snag someone's digital camera to document it all.

We will of course be pimping the original chocolate kind, not it's inferior golden cousin.

Let the games begin.

Oh man, now I really want a Pop Tart.