Tag Archives: Jack Nicholson

Goodbye, My Sweet Cardigan/Hat…

Spring is certainly here…(although, to be fair, I started this yesterday when it was more overtly here…). And while I am happy it has sprung, I’m a little sad to say goodbye to my winter clothes. Winter is a season far better-suited to hiding. I mean, if I wear a cardigan every day of my life in winter, no one asks questions. But that same cardigan in the spring/summer is not only mildly to intensely uncomfortable, but also turns me into Diane Keaton in Something’s Gotta Give. (I remember she wrote a play about everything that happened with Jack in the end, but I don’t recall whether her clothes changed, too. But, if I was the gambling kind, I’d guess Nancy Meyers 86’ed the turtlenecks as some sort of homage to Diane’s transformation…)

And, I mean, I had this grand winter plan to reinvent myself and emerge in spring all svelte and wonderful. And yet I have this phobia of gyms (I don’t like people seeing me like that! Even though it’s supposed to be a good place to pick up, you know, babes, isn’t it?) and I am pretty sure I blogged about my epic failure in the Richard Simmons Experiment (although I did very much enjoy his introductory sequence at a Brooklyn nightclub…)…and so I thought I could compromise with this bike thing — which I could ride hidden away in my apartment and only my cat would be the wiser…but then my mother warned me not to buy anything until I had seen it in person, so I totally checked it out at Walmart in Tucson…but by the time I was ready to pull the proverbial trigger, it was sold out and I went back to square one. Plus, I am lazy and I like food. And now the year is practically halfway over and I haven’t done anything transformative at all (although, to be fair, I guess there’s no time like the present…)…but I still don’t think this will be the year I wear swimwear in public…unless it’s the old lady suit…and is that really progress? (Insert muumuu joke here.)

The other problem with it not being winter anymore (I say that instead of “spring,” because I don’t want to imply that I don’t like spring…I’m really happy to see the sun and everything! I will just miss the cardigan…) is that I’ve been all about hats this winter. (One of the fake gamblers said, “When does the hat come off?” The answer? “Spring.”) But…I don’t think I can get away with hat in spring/summer, can I? Which means I’m stuck with my stupid hair…and…the Cosmic Cosmetologist was totally right and I like it better longer…but…THERE’S SO MUCH OF IT…and it gets so bouffant…and I don’t know how to rein it in…which is why the hat was so great all winter. Otherwise, I just end up pulling it back…which sort of makes growing it out moot, doesn’t it? And it was completely wonderful after that Moroccan straightening treatment…but only for about two weeks. And it was WAY TOO EXPENSIVE for just two weeks of hair happiness.

I wish I could pull it back halfway with something like a Snooki poof — just not quite as tall. But my version was not even remotely attractive…and I actually just tried out this headband thing — that’s right, folks, I am reverting back to elementary school — but I’m not sure that’s really something appropriate for everyday use either. And so I am more or less stuck until next winter?

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Filed under Brooklyn, clothes

Magic Fruit and Poop Coffee

Alright, I will go on the record saying that I had no idea that my friend D went to such totally crazy food parties.

But, in the course of our 12-hour adventure yesterday, she told me about not one, but TWO things I must share IMMEDIATELY:

1. Magic Fruit. Apparently this is some kind of crazy thing you get on the Internet that you roll around on your tongue (the way she described it, it sounded kind of like acid…but she swore it’s just fruit)…and that makes sour things taste really sweet. (The story from the Times is over a year old, so, yes, I admit it — I am officially behind the times.) D said a friend had a party with this Magic Fruit and then they all gorged themselves on citrus fruits and salt and vinegar potato chips topped with hot sauce. She promises to throw her *own* Magic Fruit party soon…and I promise I will tell you all about it.

2. Poop Coffee. (Or, civet coffee.) This is apparently the coffee Jack Nicholson orders in The Bucket List and is really super-expensive…but the beans have the dubious distinction (I am pretty sure I ripped off that exact phrase from at least one story I read about the stuff) of being digested by a cat-like creature…that then, you know, poops…and somebody has to go out and collect it and dust it off and sell it for lots and lots of money. The whole digestive thing does something to the beans that makes the coffee really good, my friend said. So. Something else for the list, I guess…

Informal poll — which is worse? Poop Coffee? Or the Sourtoe cocktail?

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Filed under Alaska, coffee, parties