Never Cooking Again

I read this blog post the other day entitled "An Argument for Never Cooking Again" and it very much resonated with me. Essentially, the author, Sarah Miller, argues that people only really like to cook for other people and they only really like to cook for other people so that they can feel loved and appreciated for doing so. This seems pretty accurate. I "love" baking, but I only "love" baking when I'm doing it for other people because they'll like it (and like me). I almost never bake for myself.  For one thing, I'm mostly lazy. And two, I would never not feel guilty about eating a pan of brownies by myself (that doesn't mean I haven't done that, though).

"An Argument for Never Cooking Again"

Cooking for one especially sucks. First of all, as that post suggests, despite my inflated ego, I don't feel motivated to spend that much time making food only for myself. Second of all, I am pretty much ALWAYS starving by the time I get home from work, so I want to eat something that takes less than 20 minutes to make. Third of all, and most unfortunately, it's not always cheaper to cook for yourself, despite popular belief. Don't get me wrong, I make most of my meals, but they almost always consist of beans and salsa and other things that cost less than a dollar and only need to be heated up. Whenever I want to eat something other than grains and legumes, it actually makes more sense to go out, which seems backwards, but it's not.

I made tacos the other night with meat -- a small step up from my typical beans and salsa -- and all things considered, the ingredients were at least $15. For tacos! Yes, I had leftovers, but that also means I had to eat the same thing many times in a row and that gets old quickly. I once made this delicious polenta casserole, but by the 3rd day of eating it, I wanted to kill myself. I am not being dramatic.

On the other hand, there is a restaurant near my office that has a pretty good beer selection and a half-priced menu from 4-6 every day. That means it's actually cheaper for me to go out and get a craft beer and an entire plate of nachos than it is to go to the grocery store and buy ingredients for a meal. Maybe not the healthiest choice, but YOLO, you guys.

And, since I live amidst Section 8 housing and broke college kids, there are countless options for very cheap food in my neighborhood. For instance, I can get a slice of pizza for $2 that is actually the size of 3 slices of pizza, so it literally feels like you won the lottery when you eat it. Literally.

When I'm not trying to get diabetes, I go to the Russian BAZAAR down the street from my apartment that has almost everything you'd ever need at half the price of a regular grocery store. Also, a whole fucking aisle of pickled items. A WHOLE AISLE. There are few things I dislike more than grocery shopping (humidity is high on the list) because almost everyone is an asshole at the grocery store. I worked at Shaws for 7 years of my life and every time I go into that store I have a mini panic attack and want to punch everyone around me. (Last time I was there, I yelled at a woman to "Get some awareness!" That is who I've become.) However, at the Bazaar, no one speaks English and/or has any interest in talking to another human being and it's wonderful. The only drawback is that almost every label is in Russian, so I don't necessarily know what I'm buying/eating, but that just keeps the adventure alive. I generally leave with a bag of fermented vegetables and cheese and go home and eat snacks for dinner. Someday I aspire to make an actual meal, but only if someone wants to help me do it. And/or just do it for me. What I mean is that someday I aspire to come home to dinner on the table.

Things I learned this weekend

1. Vermont is so fucking pretty. I screamed about it all weekend.

2. Johnny Appleseed was a real person.

3. Johnny Appleseed was born in Leominster, MA.

4. Johnny Appleseed is praised for being a good samaritan because he introduced apple trees to Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois. But I would like to point out that he ABANDONED his hometown, so.

5. I just think you should know everything about a person before you give them a sign on the highway.

How do we know he was real when all we have is cartoon pictures of him??

6.  Leaves turn colors because of photosynthesis, or something.

7. The woman who runs the White Rocks Inn in Wallington, VT is the CRAZIEST BITCH I'VE EVER MET.

8. She stole my pumpkin magic cookie bars and I will hold it against her til the day I die.

9. If you move your hand at precisely the wrong moment, you will accidentally punch a little girl in the face on the dance floor.
10.  Meredith and I aren't very good at taking selfies.

11. I have sniper vision when it comes to spotting fast food off the highway.
12. When given the option of watching your friends get their hair and make-up done or going to the bar with 12 men to watch football, I choose the latter.
13. My fantasy football team, Meow or Never (obviously), is CRUMBLING! I won the first 4 weeks and now I can't even break 100 points. :''''''''''''''(
14. This dragonfly is positively terrifying.

15. I only have one more wedding left and it's in Jamaica. Not mad.

What did you learn this weekend?

Studio Life

I made a video. In my pajamas. Without makeup on. From the most unflattering angle.

Fuck it.

Is this a mommy blog?

You guys, I know I'm going to sound like a soccer mom in a second, but I'm wicked excited about my new tupperware and I need to tell you about it. I've been bringing my lunch to work nearly every day since January when I made it one of my 12 resolutions. And, due to my aforementioned poverty, it's been pretty necessary for me to do so. I often make a big pot of quinoa or lentils or something equally peasant-like on Sunday and portion it out for the week ahead. (If you for some reason care about what I eat, follow me on instagram, duh.)  However, one of my favorite lunches ever is salad (like, for serious), but I rarely bring it because I never had tupperware big enough or anything to carry my dressing in that wouldn't leak. That is, until now. Behold, the Fit & Fresh salad container:

I'm so obsessed with this thing*. It's the perfect size, the perfect shape, and it has a DRESSING DISPENSER. It's awesome. Related: my life is really boring these days.

Work has been totally overwhelming lately, which is partly why my blog has been abandoned and malnourished the past few months. But I'm attempting to make it a priority again, since it is something I actually enjoy (whereas work - not so much). On that note, you know what makes me really sad? When people who don't know how to construct a sentence get paid to write. For instance, people in marketing who are so careless and frivolous that they can't even spell-check their emails but have made a career out of writing them. People who are hired because others value their content, content which the writers don't even care enough about to proofread. It's not only sad, it's infuriating. But that fury generally comes from my enormous feeling of jealousy that these people write for a living, which I probably could have done, but didn't. So here I am rage-blogging instead.


*Editor's note: I did NOT get paid for this endorsement. But I probably should have. (Hint, hint fit-fresh.com).

Autumn In Boston

A few of my blog friends have been taking this October Blogging Challenge to blog every single day in October. I'm never going to do that, obviously, but today's writing prompt is "What does autumn look like in your city?" and since Boston is pretty pretty during the fall, I thought I'd at least post some pictures.

But first, who says 'autumn', though? Here in Boston, where English is brutalized daily, we say fall, motherfuckers.

Autumn Fall in Boston

I don't know whose photo this is, but it isn't mine.

Bridgewater

Foxboro

Cambridge

Salem

Southie!

Arlington

Somerville

Almost none of these are pictures of Boston. Bye.

Old Gym vs. New Gym

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

As you may or may not remember, after moving to le ghetto, I decided to quit my fancy gym and go to the one at my work for literal pennies instead. For the most part, the transition has been easy, especially since I'm saving a ridiculous amount of money, but there are some key differences between the two:

Clothing

Old gym: Clothing brands ranged from Target to Lululemon, but people were always in workout clothes. 
New gym: Anything goes. You got a few minutes in between class to work out but you're wearing a dress? That's fine! Aint no thang. The other day I watched a woman run on the treadmill in jeans and a polo shirt.

Locker room

Old gym:  They served you fucking CUCUMBER-INFUSED WATER right outside the SPA area. Old women would literally blow dry their bushes CASUALLY next to you. 

New gym: You will never not take a cold shower. Never not. There is no time to loiter naked because it's so M-F cold.

Cleanliness

Old gym: There were stations of disposable wipes all around the gym. Everyone used them.

New gym: There are stations with paper towels and disinfectant that I've never seen anyone even look at. I think I'm the only person who has ever wiped down his/her machine there. Ringworm feels inevitable at this point.

Music

Old gym: The same classical CD over and over and over again. They often played Swan Lake which just gave me terrifying day-mares about Natalie Portman. (Okay, maybe they were more like fantasies.)

New gym: They play the dopest shit because it's run by actual 18-year-olds. I recently went up to the front desk to ask about the playlist and the ~kids~ got all nervous because they thought I was going to reprimand them for playing hip-hop. Never, little ones, and also, thank you.

Clientele

Old gym: All women, mostly privileged, with little to no self-awareness.

New gym: All ages and sexes. This makes working out  more enjoyable because I can gawk at men with beards who also happen to attend one of the most elite universities in the world. GET AT ME, BRO. But seriously, do that. 

What I've been up to.

Nothing, really. I'm super poor at the moment (and by moment I mean the past 2 months) on account of the fact that I drastically underestimated how much weddings would cost. (I hope you're all enjoying those new champagne glasses while I eat an 89 cent can of beans for dinner! JK LOL. I love you guys.)

That said, I've been spending most of my free time watching Netflix and drinking Charles Shaw because it's literally all I can afford right now. But let me tell you something: I'm loving it. I never really appreciated TV before. Sure, I had a few shows (Game of Thrones, Jeopardy!) but, in general, I always preferred to do pretty much anything other than watch TV. Now I finally get all the hype. TV is awesome. Sitting on your couch is awesome. Being lazy is fucking awesome.

I watched both seasons of House of Cards in approximately 2 weeks. I've also finished all 6 (available) seasons of Parks & Rec. God, that show is perfect. I need more Craig in my life. GIVE ME CRAIG.

As for dating, I'm not doing it, obviously. It's pretty hard to meet people when you're sitting around in polka dot pajamas in your living room that is also your bedroom that is also your entire apartment. I have decided, though, that if I go back to online dating, my profile will say:

Looking for someone to watch TV and get fat with. It's the American dream. 

I mean it is the dream, right? Sitting and eating? I think this means I'm finally ready for a relationship. You know, one that requires no work. 

So, what else?

Well, I met the fabulous Jessica Merchant of How Sweet It Is last week. She is the reason I'm even writing this at all. I asked her if her blog ever stresses her out (hint: mine does; hint: everything does), and she said no because she loves her blog and also doesn't care if what she writes matters. I care that what I write matters, which is weird since I mostly write about total bullshit. But I spend a lot of time worrying about what to write. Jessica, on the other hand,  just sits down each evening and writes a post about whatever the fuck she wants and that's that*. So that's what I'm going to attempt to do from here on out. Just write some shit and post it. A shit storm is on its way, you guys.

Speaking of a shit storm, I unintentionally saw Elliphant on Saturday night. Have any of you heard of her? She is a white, female, Swedish rapper. Like... what? I basically had an identity crisis during her performance. It made me feel racist, maybe? Sexist? I don't know because I'm not entirely sure what she's going for, but I mostly kept thinking, "You're a 28-year-old white girl. You're not allowed to rap to dubstep." I know that's wrong. But that's what I felt.

Since then, though, I can't stop watching this video:

I literally have no idea what's happening or why it's happening, but it's addicting. Is this art? What is art? Where is that guy who goes around Boston tagging "NOT ART" when you need him? Someone tell me how I'm supposed to feel. 

*She also cooks and bakes and takes GORGEOUS pictures of all the things she cooks and bakes, so everything she writes matters.

Woops

My last post was about how my blog is two years old. It's actually three years old.

But anyway, now it's dead, so.

Bye.

Some things.

Just two short years ago, this blog was born. Since then, it has grown and died and grown and died again. It's on life-support, currently.  What a dramatic, short life, but would you expect anything else from me?

Happy birthday!

Those cupcakes were from the Beyonce brunch I went to yesterday. I suppose there was no better way to celebrate my blog's birthday than by celebrating Beyonce. What is a Beyonce brunch, you say? Well, it's basically 2 hours of Beyonce's videos accompanied by Beyonce-themed dishes, such as the Blue Ivy French Toast and the Upgrade U cocktail (a mimosa with sugar on the rim). Back Bay Harry's was brilliant to come up with such an idea. I'd like to recreate it at home with better eggs.

Here are some other things I've been doing when I am not writing ever:

• going to weddings
• throwing up on the side of the road after those weddings
• picking apples
• making cookies
• yelling about football
• winning fantasy every week* #bowdownbitches
• knocking on wood 
• watching a lot of Netflix
• dreaming about Kit Harington
• avoiding dating 

I did go on the worst date ever a few weeks ago (hence abstaining from any others), which I've been debating telling you all about since anything I say would amount to public shaming. But as Anne Lamott once said...

"If people wanted you to write warmly about them,

they should have behaved better."

So maybe you'll get lucky.

Oh, also, I'm going to be a dragon for Halloween. I'm not quite sure how, since I have minimal-to-no crafting skills, but it's going to happen.

*Editor's note: I just realized my opponent has a player playing tonight, so I spoke too soon about winning fantasy every week. #fingerscrossedbitches

Things I learned this weekend

1. I had the most spectacular dreams about Kit Harrington last night.
2. I asked him if I could call him "Jon", and he said yes. What a good guy.
3. Unfortunately, my alarm clock vagina-blocked me.

4. I think I can get on board with Catholicism when one of its major pillars is drinking.
5. Jesus is the original frat boy. People ran out of wine and he was like, DON'T WORRY, BRO, I GOT THIS.
6. If you're invited to a wedding with a plus 1, bring a good dancer and all the middle-aged women at the reception will come up to you and express their envy.

7. If throwing up on the side of the road is any indication of a good time, then the wedding I went to this weekend was the best.
8. My night started spiraling out of control when my friend called me from outside and said, "I can see you eating a cupcake."
9. When the reception is over, stop eating cupcakes and go home.

10. I'm not sure what I would do without such amazing friends. Special thanks to Cory and Lauren for making sure me and my phone got home safely.