Dirty Laundry

I have yet to do my own batch of laundry since arriving in New York. I'm very challenged in the domestic sphere so it's no surprise that although I am cheap, and every little penny helps, I send my laundry out to be done. I have no qualms with strangers scrubbing my stains or touching my delicates, but I have encountered a few who are very uneasy with it. I myself am more uneasy with all every person and their mother who has a blog airing their own dirty laundry and oversharing their most intimate pecadillos with their nearest and dearest followers. 

But here's a piece of dirty laundry that gives me great catharsis to share: 

I ate at Olive Garden last night.

 In Times Square. 

I KNOW. 

{Shame, boatloads of shame.}

A friend and I received tickets to Next to Normal on Broadway last minute and well, when the hankering for unlimited salad and breadsticks comes a-calling, it doesn't let up. So there we were, with the tourists taking their pictures by the faux flower arrangements, in our work attire:

So here I was, gluttonous and prepping for today's carb face:

But what do we see when we finally put our forks down to endure the meat sweats, sugar shakes, and to head to the vomitorium, but this, outside the window:

{in case you can't tell, that's a billboard of a scantily-clad Gisele Bundchen.}

It's bad enough our waiter asked where we were from and we explained, umm yeah, here, we live in New York, but this? 

I know, I KNOW, Gisele. Keep your jorts on; I'm judging me too.

How Much Do You Want for the Golden Goose?

I was somehow voted "Most Likely to Be Famous" by members of my college graduating class. I'm still bewildered, but it seems my peers' prophecy has come true. Check it out:

photo: Chester Higgins, Jr./New York Times

Yes, that's me, and my friend, Amy. She's the super chic one in the khaki trench, and I'm the one to the left pointing out the 17 varieties of M&Ms at Economy Candy. [The toggle coat adds 25 lbs. Or rather, I am probably carrying a little extra bulk on account of my sugar intake.] But look who made the front page of the "New York Times": this girl!

We were interviewed a week ago Sunday about the increase in candy consumption during the recession. How appropriate! I seem to continually circle back to my one-sided affair with anything sugar-related on this blog.  Apparently, I'm not the only one preoccupied with my sweet teeth these days.

Theories vary on exactly why. For many, sugar lifts spirits dragged low by the languishing economy. For others, candy also provides a nostalgic reminder of better times. And not insignificantly, it is relatively cheap.

“People may indulge themselves a little bit more when times are tough,” said Jack P. Russo, an analyst with the Edward Jones retail brokerage in St. Louis. “These are low-cost items that people can afford pretty easily."

And thanks to all who have texted, emailed, gchatted, facebooked, called, harrassed, poked, telegrammed, sent a messenger owl, etc. to me to alert me of my newfound fame. As Amy said, "this must be what Angelina Jolie feels like." 

If you have any further questions, would like to inquire about public appearances, or are interested in signing me to a candy endorsement deal, then all future correspondence will here on out be directed to my publicist, Lorraine Hornswaggle.

When Economy Sours, a Tootsie Roll Can Still Soothe the Soul [New York Times]

This is Why I Might Have to Get Gastric Bypass

My lack (often perceived, I admit) of funds has mainly impacted my eating habits insofar as I don't keep a lot of food around (because I'm not buying it), I've become much more inventive with the available edibles (sweet potatoes and syrup: gluttonous or brilliant? Delicious!), and I tend to become preoccupied to an unhealthy extent with certain foods.

Last week, I may or may not have contacted the Girl Scouts to determine where I could purchase some tasty Samoas during the off-season. 

Thanks to this gluttonous? brilliant? blog, no longer will I research any and all recipes incorporating bacon with goat cheese. No more will I neglect my continuous employment investigation to create a color-coordinated excel spreadsheet to help a friend determine what New York restaurants she and her parents will enjoy when they visit- in 3 months. 

As Lizzie McGuire once sang, this is what dreams are made of, if your moments of nocturnal bliss involve salivating over sloppy joes atop a Krispy Kreme doughnut. Or if you can't wait until the day when you, too, finally, can start monitoring insulin injections, then here's a blog for you.

Thanks to this, my craving for tasty Girl Scout cookies may have passed, even though the higher ups still haven't responded to my query for Tagalongs in January.  

[This is Why You're Fat. Where Dreams Become Heart Attacks]