Perks of Being a Blogger

September 29, 2010

Changing faces!

As you’ve noticed, I document my food truck eatin’s on this blog. When I can’t remember whether or not I liked a truck that’s parked outside, I just type the name of the truck into the Daily Binge “search” box. And I get a picture AND a review. Convenient!

For once, this blog is pulling its weight.

Today both trucks were in the thumbs-down category. Lucky for me that I brought a Lean Cuisine!

I’ve probably talked about my love for Lean Cuisines before. I inherited (by nurture) my mother’s lack of cooking umph, so when I was growing up, Lean Cuisines were the height of… cuisine… in our house.

It just so happens that I brought a Sesame Chicken Lean Cuisine to work, and that picture of the old-and-new packaging Sesame Chicken Lean Cuisines was in my phone. I took it on March 28, 2010. Six months and one day ago. And it did not become blog-relevant until just now. (Luckily I remembered it.)

Isn’t it funny how things become relevant in time? Or IRRELEVANT?

My life was really different six months ago. Looking back, I’m glad it changed. (Whew.)

Well, things didn’t totally change. I’m still taking random pictures in grocery stores.

Another nice thing about this blog (lately) is that people are actually reading. (SHOCKING, I know.) Several friends/former co-workers have said to me, “I keep track of you by reading your blog.” But let me keep track of YOU, too. If you’re reading, please say “hi” every once in a while. Let’s make it a mutual stalking. (Either way, I’m probably stalking you on Facebook.) (Let’s be real.)

Want to be part of the experience? Let’s go on a snack trek! (I won’t take your picture against your will. But I might talk about you, or take pictures of your food.) (It has no will… well, depending on your beliefs.)

Anyway. While I’m eating a hermetically sealed microwave meal, my sister (Dana) sent me this picture of HER lunch.

Fancy schmancy.

Pretty plate. (I bet it’s from Target.) (Not a dig! Target has pretty PLASTIC stuff. Which is a must for klutzy dish-users like me.)

The picture came with this note: “Made ‘falafel’ out of veggie burger & spices.”

I replied, “Nice! You just balled it up?” (I’m sure that’s a technical cooking term.)

Her response: “Yup. Defrosted, balled it up, and cooked it in a skillet with basil leaves, chili powder, paprika, and spicy pepper. It was delish.”

What the WHAT?!

How the heck did she know what to put in the skillet? When did she acquire skillet skills? And apparently that spice combo just popped into her head?

I’m starting to suspect that we’re not related.

But since I know that we ARE, maybe there’s hope for me, too. (Or at least the promise of eatin’ good when I visit her!)

xoxo…

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WEREWOLF BAR MITZVAH!

September 23, 2010

Spooky, scary.

Tonight, the stars will align. Three things…

1) It’s a full moon.

2) “30 ROCK” returns… season FIVE premiere.

3) Werewolf episode of “The Vampire Diaries.” (Episode 203: Bad Moon Rising.)

You know what that means… WEREWOLF BAR MITZVAH! (It would only be more perfect if tonight were the Sabbath.)

And “Community” and “The Office” are back tonight, too. But as far as I know that has nothing to do with the full moon.

On a sad note: “Parks & Rec” is not back until mid-season. I’m guessing that newbie-show “Outsourced” will be outsourced– as in, canceled– sooner than later. Until then, I’m actually really bummed about the lack of “Parks & Rec.” I love it so.

This is how my heart feels:

The world is so cruel and lonely! (Without "Parks & Rec.")

But on a practical level, I have way too much TV to watch. The fall season is overwhelming. I still haven’t watched half of last night’s shows. So the lack of “Parks & Rec” is creating more of a metaphorical void in my life than a literal one. (Strike that– a metaphorical PIT.)

Okay, enough talk. You’ve got a Bar Mitzvah to prepare for.

xoxo…


ABC’s Comedies Return Tonight!!!

September 22, 2010

This news took us all by surprise.

This morning at about 6:30am, as I was driving groggily to the gym, I heard an ad on the radio that WOKE ME UP.

“Modern Family” and “Cougar Town” are back tonight! (And yes, they decided to keep calling it “Cougar Town.”) (Why not?)

For some reason I didn’t realize that these shows were all returning this week. Time is sneaking up on me. In a good way, for once.

I’m also going to check out the newbie in the 8:30pm slot, “Better With You.”

Yeah, I don’t watch the Patricia Heaton one that’s on at 8pm. Sorry.

But anyway, YES YES YES YES YES! Phil! Claire! Cam & Mitchell! Gloria! Manny! Everybody else! Everybody on “Cougar Town”! Hopefully Dylan-the-musician-boyfriend! Hopefully Smith-the-law-school-boyfriend! IAN GOMEZ!!!

Everybody loves IAN GOMEZ!

Dear “Modern Family” & “Cougar Town”:

I know you’re intangible TV shows that are projected from a satellite into my living room, but I just wanna do you. (And I’ve just sentenced myself to listening to that song at least 10 times today… it’s so catchy.)

xoxo…


Snack Trek: 8oz BURGER BAR

September 21, 2010

In your face.

A few months back, my friends and I all bought Living Social coupons for 8oz Burger Bar. This place is so popular that when Groupon featured them a few months prior, the Groupons SOLD OUT. And that never happens. So we were like… gotta try this place!

We didn’t read the fine print that you can only use one coupon per table per visit, so we realize now that we’re going to have to eat there several times, in order to use all the coupons. Oops. About that.

Whit, Bea, and I met up for our first Burger-fest last night. Cole was supposed to come but he got all Anne-Hathaway-in-DEVIL-WEARS-PRADA on us (AKA he had to stay late at work), which prompted me to say, “I want to be Rich Sommer!”

Who doesn't want to be Rich Sommer? He got the swag!

Anyway.

All three of us got the Estancia Grass Fed Beef burger, which consists of… “heirloom tomato ketchup, garlic aioli, sliced tomato, onion, pickle, charred escarole, [and] roasted mushrooms.” (We all love mushrooms.) (FRIEND REQUIREMENT.)

You can’t really tell in this picture, but the burger was REALLY rare on the inside. Like, pink. Like, still mooing.

But we went with it.

Seriously, somehow my camera made this look so much more cooked.

Overall it was a tasty burger, although there was a note of smokiness, which is not really my thing. Mesquite, etc– no thanks. I think it might have been in the charred escarole (some sort of lettuce).

We got two sides– the truffled (is that a word?) potato skins, and the roasted baby broccoli. Our waiter warned us that ketchup would cover up the truffle flavor, but eventually we caved to the power of the ketchup. Truffle oil is okay, but ketchup improves everything. (As GOD once said: To truffle is human; to ketchup is divine.)

The truffled potato skins looked like flat french fries in person. In the photo, they look like an artery’s biggest nightmare:

I'm writing this from beyond the grave.

Luckily we had the itty baby broccoli (broccolini?) to help even the score… maybe.

Oochy goochy goo.

Driving home from the evening (which didn’t end here… but more on that later), I talked to my dad and mentioned that I’d been at 8oz Burger Bar. “Wow,” he said. “That’s a big burger.”

“No, eight ounces,” I said. “You know, a small number. Eight. Little burgers.”

“Eight ounces is half a pound,” my dad informed me. (He handed the phone to my mom, and she said the exact same thing.) (Married people!)

WHAT? I swear, the burgers looked so small in Living Social’s promotional material. And apparently I couldn’t identify a half pound burger with my EYES?! (This happened to me once before, when neighbor-Kyle and I cooked Greek burgers from a Rachel Ray cookbook.) (You think I’d learn.)

I guess it makes sense that the burgers were meatier than I realized, because by the time I got down to this last quarter I was sweatin’ it out. (I also thought I was getting sick,  due to feeling cold (it was cold out) and a stomachache (I was hungry), so I was worried about being visited by the vomits.)

This is probably a normal sized burger. Oops.

I ended up eating that. (And did not get sick, due to actual illness or over-fullness.)

In summary, I ate a full half pound of almost-raw cow meat.

But hey, it was grass fed!

As full as we were, we had to move to a second location. (Our waiter got Emily-Blunt-in-DEVIL-WEARS-PRADA frosty and was blasting us with hate rays, because he thought we weren’t going to tip him… but we were just waiting for our change.) (FOOL.)

(By the way, seeing as how the waiter was a guy… apparently all men are women in my DEVIL WEARS PRADA scenarios.) (AND I’M RICH SOMMER, BITCHES!) (Yes, he’s also Harry Crane on “Mad Men.”)

Um, okay, anyway. Tomorrow I will tell you about the second location, and the gluttony that ensued… and was a gift (from Bea) that keeps on giving, because I’m off to some “Glee”-viewing and [secret leftover food]-feasting.

Oh, and next time I’m totally trying the fried pickles. Because I’m a total Snooki.

xoxo…


On Llamas, Converse, Kefir and Don Draper’s Chest Hair

September 20, 2010

This is my other life./If you're REALLY lucky you'll get this card.

I was going to blog more today, but I got sucked into the vortex that is Etsy.

I particularly love to buy letterpress cards. I’m a little bit obsessed with the artistry of letterpress. In fact– I wanted to take a letterpress workshop, but it conflicted with my improv class.

Man, I love to learn. (But only fun stuff.) (No math!)

I’m not sure whether these llamas are letterpress, but I can’t show you the letterpress cards I bought, because they are a surprise. Maybe I’ll give you a peek after the cards are dispatched.

You may be wondering, Why llamas? I’ll tell you why: Because my family owns alpacas. (No, seriously.) (Really.)

See? My life isn’t all cake-gorging and TV.

I also do improv.

I had my first improv show (level one graduation show!) on Sunday. My “crazy” Saturday night that ended at Menchie’s also included a trip to Off Broadway Shoes, where I finally bought a new pair of Converse. (My old pair was ruined in an unfortunate dance club… incident?) (Not really an incident. Just gunky floors.)

Now, for some reason I totally obsessed over whether I should wear my Tom’s shoes or my Converse for the show. Tom’s are a little more new-school hipster, and Converse are the tried and true old school of hipster-ness. (The place where I do improv is pretty hipster, and I happen to have hipster taste in shoes.)

Hipster is a ridiculous word if you type it too many times. (It might be a ridiculous word anyway.)

I was really worried that I didn’t have time to break in my Converse, so I wore them around while doing laundry/wearing pajamas.

This picture does not do justice to the grossness of those old Converse

I hadn’t worn my Converse since the dance club attacked them in… early August? I can’t believe I went that long without Converse. Talk about an identity crisis.

(One of the Harvard gals calls them Converses. Is that an East Coast vs. West Coast thing?)

I had done almost all of my improv classes in Tom’s, but I was worried that Tom’s didn’t have the WEIGHT I needed in my FEET. And I was worried that the Converse weren’t BROKEN IN. And I could… have sore feet? Trip?

I knew EXACTLY what I wanted to wear, but I literally changed my underwear (because people might catch a glimpse of it?), my pants and my shirt at least four times each before settling on what I’d always planned to wear. At the last minute, I switched from Tom’s to Converse. They pulled the whole outfit together.

According to Whit, the Converse were VERY bright white from the stage. Haha.

The show went well. (ARE YOU SURPRISED?!) (Jerk!) I said the last line before the final blackout in my group’s half of the show, which made me really happy because we try to end on a really funny line.

(However, we’re not actually trying to be funny. I think the line was, “I’m just going to get a new job.” It’s the context that’s funny.)

True story: When I was a kid in musical theater camp, a director once blacked out the show in the middle of one of my scenes because it was sucking (and then we had to go out and restart the scene… this mortification really happened), so earning a good blackout felt like redemption.

My peepz took me to El Cholo after. I’m going to do a separate post for the TWO pictures I took there. I’m still full.

On my way home, I went to the grocery store. Note to self/everyone: As bad as it is to grocery shop on an empty stomach, it might be WORSE to grocery shop on a really full stomach. Ughhh.

I saw some PROBIOTIC Lifeway Kefir in the grocery aisle, and decided to give it a whirl. Overall it seems less expensive (but also less POWERFUL) than the Whole Foods stuff. And more tasty. (I also got some other brand, but they didn’t have a humble-beginnings story on their label, so they don’t get a hyperlink.)

My apartment is the darkest dungeon ever. I held these under the ONE lamp in my room, to get enough light for a non-blurry picture. It’s very noir. And involves my bed. Sexy.

Kefir... after dark.

So maybe I’ll add a sip of kefir a day to my diet, and see if that changes anything. I still have one carton of the Canadian super drink of vommy-ness, in case I need it.

Oh, and “Mad Men” was insane and amazing last night. I don’t even know where to begin in analyzing it, but there was definitely a Peggy/Joan/Faye together-in-one-frame motif. (And the episode was called “Beautiful Girls.”) I laughed through the death stuff and cried when everybody watched helplessly as Sally went with Betty. That’s “Mad Men” for you!

During a Don/Faye scene, my roommate came in and asked, “Is he having an affair with her?” (She’s a few seasons behind.) I said, “No, Don’s single now. His wife left him and married somebody else.” It’s really weird, though, the idea of Don Draper legit dating people. It’s still hard to fathom. He was such a master of having affairs, and his dating life is so awkward.

How far the mighty have fallen. (Sorta.)

I loved the sweet post-sex scene between Don and Faye. (SHE’S THE SOFTEST!) But I have to say: I find Jon Hamm’s chest hair kind of off-putting. (SORRY!)

And then the whole Peggy/Abe thing. At first he was adorable, and then he was such a lunkhead about rights for women. Can he be redeemed? Or does Peggy actually have the hots for lesbian Joyce? And/or Secretary Megan?

Is Joyce right about men being soup?

And if so– Can I order a matzo ball soup man? The fluffy matzo balls? With circle cut carrots?

Okay, I’m going back to Etsy. Amuse yourselves. I’ll post the El Cholo pictures soon.

PS Do you care about this stuff? (And by “this stuff,” I mean… my life?) Would you rather I stick to food?

xoxo…


A Very MAD MEN Kol Nidre

September 17, 2010

Can you hear me now?

‘Tis the night before Yom Kippur, and my stomach is already feeling a bit grumbly. I said I wasn’t going to fast hardcore, but it’s downright wimpy to eat or drink between sundown and sunrise. C’mon!

So I’m writing a little blog for you instead. (Crystal urged me to blog Kol Nidre, but I don’t know if she realized that it’s a food-free affair.) And trying to make this have to do with “Mad Men,” because this is not The Daily Prayer.

I always like to go to Kol Nidre (aka Yom Kippur Eve), because there is sad/pretty music. So I wore a Target dress that looks kinda soccer-mom-at-a-school-recital-in-the-’burbs to work today (a few co-workers said, “Nice dress!” and I replied, “NO.”), and went directly from there to services at USC’s Hillel. The current Rabbi is named Lori, and I like her insights and sermons.

According to Lori, Kol Nidre (it’s also the name of a once-a-year song) was the first thing ever heard in a talkie. (JEWS FTW!) As you may recall, THE JAZZ SINGER is about a Jewish guy (a cantor’s son) who goes undercover in blackface because he wants to be… a jazz singer.

I didn’t really make the “Mad Men” connection until I googled “The Jazz Singer,” and most of the pictures of Al Jolson looked a little bit like this…

CRINGE.

That’s Roger Sterling, for you “Mad Men” dopes. Season 3.

The second “Mad Men” reference was more overt. Lori told a story about working in a senior facility in Manhattan. A 90-year-old woman who “dressed like Joan from ‘Mad Men’” walked into Lori’s office one day and said, “I went to the doctor, and it’s official: I’m pregnant.”

Old people can be hilarious!

BUT that night, the Joan lady died of a stroke. WAH WAHHHH. Sad. Double sad. She was so vivacious!

Overall, the sort of theme of tonight’s sermon was that we have to stop sleepwalking through life so that when we die (AT ANY MOMENT), we won’t have any regrets about everything we didn’t do. We’ll just be like, time to die. “High five!” (That’s a direct quote from Rabbi Lori.)

That makes me think of Don’s snap-out-of-it episode this past week. He assessed his life and was not happy with what he saw. So he’s trying to change.

What am I doing?

It’s interesting to resolve NOT to sleep-walk through life on Yom Kippur, because one of those most intriguing aspects of this day is that we’re living like the dead (and/or vampires). Not eating. Not drinking. Not bathing. Not sexing each other up (okay, maybe not so much like vampires). Just kinda walking around in a cloud. (And generally trying to sleep as much as possible, to get through the 25 hours of no food or drink.)

I like the idea of being a ghost for a day, because I’m all about quiet observation. (A paradox for those of you who know me, because I’m maybe more known for being at the center of loud conversations.) But I also very much like the idea of coming through that cloud, finding some sort of clarity, and living a more lifey life for the other 364-ish days of the year.

Ironically, my major resolution is to write more, which is kind of a ghosty/sleepwalky pursuit.

Rabbi Lori ended her sermon with, “Let the games begin.” Very Hunger Games. Yom Kippur is totally a hunger game.

Whether or not I break the fast (and I may be masochistic tomorrow and post some of my backlogged food pics), the official snack of Yom Kippur, according to Rabbi Lori, is air.

I’m going to go to sleep now, but I’ll leave you with a midnight snack… I took this in Long Beach two weeks ago, but I’m feeling too lazy to tag it.

Are you full yet?

Looks like the walls of my bedroom at my house house. Very relaxing.

An easy fast to those of you who are going to do it up. I’m always tempted to GO THERE, but I think I’m going to try to stick to my non-fasting guns this year. With all the sickness going around, I’m not keen on weakening my immune system. (And in fact, my resting/eating habits on Yom Kippur are sorta like a preemptive sick day… mostly water and broths.)

Good night, and good luck.

Oh, and I’m totally wearing my “Mad Men”-style dress to services tomorrow.

xoxo…


In Which I Try To Hydrate Without Poisoning Myself and/or the Planet

September 16, 2010

Drink me.

First of all: UPDATE! I think the probiotics are working. I drank the 2nd half of the 2nd container this morning, and I actually do feel better. I’m just from the gimme gimme right now generation, so I expected the vanilla vomit fermented rice to work IMMEDIATELY.

Looking back, I think I have been feeling better since sometime yesterday afternoon. (I had a very rich dinner at O-Bar and felt okay afterward, stomach-wise. Miraculous.) (Though post-meal I felt kinda messed up, brain-wise. I wanted to cry.) (Don’t eat rich food, kids.)

I was starting to think that I was going to feel sick every time I ate anything, which is a shitty feeling. And was also going to ruin the blog, not to mention my life.

Anyway, remember when I drank the nasty old water that may have caused my stomach issues to begin with? Part of the reason I have been drinking old water out of old bottles is because I decided to stop buying water bottles, because… the environment or whatever. (I also bring my own canvas bags to the grocery store. What a hero.)

I’ve been meaning to buy a reusable, BPA-free water bottle. I got a freebie one from my gym, but it was made in China and tasted like lead, so I ditched it. My parents offered me a freebie WashU bottle, but it wouldn’t fit in a cup holder, so I refused it. Finally I stopped waiting for the right freebie to come along, and bought one at Target.

It’s called an Intak, and it’s made by Thermos. I’m no stranger to Thermoses. In elementary school, I brought soup in a Thermos for lunch. Every day.

The nice lunch supervisor would come around open the Thermos for me, because I was weak. Then I would stand up to eat so I could see down into the Thermos (because I was/am short), and the mean lunch supervisor would yell at me to sit down. Every day. (I think I eventually figured out to pour some of the soup into the lid, so I could sit and still see my soup.)

I like this water bottle because it’s purple (duh), and also because it seems like a very happy-go-lucky guy. The gray button looks like a nose, and the metal loop looks like a smiling mouth. He’s like a character from THE BRAVE LITTLE TOASTER.

I like having a friendly companion at my desk. (This is how you know that cubicle life is getting to you.) (Nah, I was already crazy.)

Probiotics, a BPA-free water bottle, canvas bags… look at me, being so crunchy granola.

Being an adult, I guess. And also trying not to ruin the fucking planet. And/or my body.

I even took out my contacts ALL NIGHT last night. (Don’t worry– I have the ones you can sleep in for a month. But I’m supposed to take them out once a week, and I don’t.)

My eyes  don’t know what to do with themselves without the contacts. When I tried to close them, they felt like they were burning. I saw monsters. (Is it possible to have withdrawals from contact lenses?)

Don’t do contact lenses, kids. They may seem cool, but they’ll fuck your shit up.

But DO drink water. Clean water, out of clean containers. That’s safe… or so we think.

xoxo…


It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year… PUMPKIN SEASON!

September 13, 2010

Stopped me in my tracks.

This really is my favorite time of year. The mild weather, the sort of subdued sunlight, the approaching holidays (especially Thanksgiving!). And seriously, the presence of all sorts of pumpkin wonderfulness is a big factor. I mean, pumpkins ARE October. (Okay, it’s not October yet. But close enough.)

I think pumpkin season arrived early this year (or did it?) in part because a lot of people seem to be on TEAM PUMPKIN with me. And the food-sellers KNOW THIS. They are smart cookies. (They are also smart enough to know to take pumpkin away for most of the year, so that when it returns we will go CRAZY for it.)

Two weekends ago (ugh, I know, I’m behind in life) I was strolling along the main drag of Belmont Shore (in Long Beach… it’s delightful), when the above-pictured Yogurtland poster lifted me up to cloud nine. I LOVE this time of year!

Completely coincidentally, my ice cream ended up being heart-shaped. Seriously, I did not plan this one.

It loves me... it loves me not.

The top flavor is actually Vanilla Wafer (how cool is that?). The pumpkin pie flavor is under it, but they’re basically the same color. My dad’s explanation, in brief: “Chemicals.”

Since that weekend, I have been somewhat lactose sensitive. My mom’s explanation, in full: “Because you’re Jewish.”

Thanks, Mom.

So I went for a SOY Pumpkin Spice Frappuccino at the local Starbucks this past (and more recent) weekend. (Gotta say, I am sooo happy about this choose-your-milk thing with the Fraps. It changed my life.)

Misspelling my name is always in season.

There are actually not enough Starbucks locations in my immediate vicinity. Which is only a problem when pumpkin spice is on the menu.

On the soy front for a moment– I heard recently that it’s actually BAD for women to eat a lot of soy products, because of the estrogen? Is that the complete opposite of what I’ve always heard? When did it flip-flop? Why is health info so 1984 (as in Orwell, not fashion trends)?

Pumpkin season means that the world is full of tempting treats… such as these cookies at Ralphs, which I did not buy. But they look so fluffy and amazing. Like pillows! Or clouds! Somebody please invite me to a party where these will be served, so I can eat just one. In theory.

Cloud Nine.

I also have a few leads on pumpkin French macarons. You better believe that those will be blogged, if I get my hands on them.

Pumpkins and spice!

xoxo…


The Friendliest LEMON CUPCAKE Around…

September 3, 2010

Can you see his big goofy grin?

The bread soup smiled, the cupcake smiled– the food at Tender Greens is alive! Either that, or I’m getting a little anthropomorphism-happy here. (Probably that.)

So what do you do to very friendly food? You hack away at it with a knife! Of course.

Owww. Nice cupcakes finish DEAD.

This reminds me of some Wee Sing style video I used to watch when I was a kid, where they met The Muffin Man and he quartered his muffin (as in the food, not the Lady Gaga whatever-she’s-talking-about muffin) so that everybody could share.

These photos are also making me think, “One potato, two potato, three potato, four.”

Is he making a kinda resigned Charlie Brown face here? (With his one remaining eye squinched tight?)

I feel so incomplete.

But honestly, I didn’t see any of this face stuff until I uploaded the pictures. Let’s talk about what the cupcake tasted like: The frosting was very sweet, but I always go light on the frosting. Just enough to add a little bit of flavor/moisture. The cake was a bit drier than I’m used to, but not necessarily in a bad way. Maybe in a… European way?

As I said, I thought it was buttery, Bea thought it was sugary… it was probably a little bit of both. Now that I think about it, though, maybe it wasn’t that buttery. I was forgetting what buttery tastes like. (It happens.)

Oh, here’s a picture attempting to show you the strange curvy design of the Tender Greens silverware. And I think that piece of cupcake went uneaten. Yay for even the smallest bit of willpower.

Groovy.

Speaking of desserts/willpower/buttery-ness, the Crepe ‘N Around truck is outside. I’m debating whether to get a savory crepe, a sweet crepe, both, or nothing at all. Last time they were here I didn’t try anything. I’m not THAT hungry, but it’s apparently delicious. And they have a s’more crepe.

HMMMM.

xoxo…


Snack Trek: SWEET TEA (McDonald’s)

September 2, 2010

Bad life choices.

The following is a real chat transcript, from 11:39pm last night–

Me: I AM HIGH ON SWEET TEA. THIS IS SO BAD/SO GOOD.

Friend: knowing you, that’s not a metaphor

Me: no, there are pictures to prove that i just drank a mega-ton of it. SO STUPID.

How did this happen? Let’s back up an hour or two…

Last night Bea (my Tall Texan Twin) and I dined at Tender Greens. We ate all manner of goodness, including a big lemon cupcake, which was apparently very sugary. (I thought it was buttery? Maybe both?) (Of course I have pictures– I’ll post them sooner or later.) So I was already laden with sugar. Keep that in mind.

Somehow our discussion turned to sweet tea, and the fact that I’ve never tried it but have always wanted to try it. There’s a McDonald’s on every corner (and one right across Vine from this Tender Greens) (haha, Vine… Greens), so we sprang into sweet tea-acquiring action.

I don’t know how many ounces that container holds? 32? 64? A hundred million? All for $1.10. Not bad. (VERY BAD.)

When I think of sweet tea, I think of an interview I once read with Reese Witherspoon, about how she’s a Southern gal and loves to make sweet tea in big jars. (Maybe I’m misremembering. Sorry if this is slander, Reese.) But McDonald’s does not want me to picture Southern belles and dainty acts of hospitality (dirty!) when I think of sweet tea…

This ain't yo mama's tea!

“This is no dainty, garden party tea…?” Excuse me? Are they marketing this tea to macho men? (The macho-est thing about this sweet tea is the AMOUNT. That cup is the size of a linebacker.) That little blurb does not compute to me at all, because I want to revel in the Reese Witherspoon-y-ness of sweet tea.

But I love that lemon graphic. Nice work. I’m lovin’ it.

Sweet tea looks like Coke, in pictures.

Too much tea! Shut it down!

I asked Bea what exactly is IN this stuff that makes it so crackishly addictive, and she said that she thinks it’s just iced tea with massive amounts of sugar. (It didn’t taste THAT sweet to me, which makes me question my taste buds.) Reese Witherspoon indicated that there were spices involved! Bea conceded that there might be some cinnamon? Oh man, cinnamon is just busting out all over in my life right now.

Have you noticed that there’s a chaste version of spin the bottle on the table? (I like the happy little cancer heart with the bandaged face.) It’s weird, and also oddly NOT chaste. I’m not sure what the Ronald McDonald House people had in mind, but my version of a “giggle giver” might get me arrested for public indecency.

I didn’t plan on drinking much of this tea, or at least I planned on splitting it evenly with Bea. But I don’t think that happened. I think I consumed the majority of the tea. (I gave in to the power of the tea, a la ZOOLANDER.) (If you don’t know what I’m talking about, drop everything, turn left, and see ZOOLANDER.) I got totally sugar-high on sweet tea. Like, redonk.

The last photo before the sugar really kicked in.

I DID finish it down to the bottom, but that was too shameful to merit a picture.

Fun fact: McDonald’s at 10pm-ish in LA is full of creepy homeless people and farting tourists who speak a language I have NEVER HEARD IN MY LIFE. (And refer to the women of their group as “Lady,” in a sneering, derogatory way.) So… I’m glad we survived. (Hmm, maybe the “this is no dainty garden party” of it all is aimed at THOSE guys…)

Next time we’re going to try Chick Fil A’s sweet tea, which is apparently at least equally delicious– if not more. (Bea’s enthusiasm about the whole thing is infectious… and she’s very excited to introduce me to the special sauce.) (I can’t remember what it’s called. I was distracted by GIANT TEA.)

I woke up sweet tea high and had a sweet tea hangover (and was probably sweating sugar-water at the gym this morning), but I guess that’s par for the course.

Reese Witherspoon knows what I’m talking about!

xoxo…


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