So, I know that I promised to keep you kiddies updated daily on the health of my colon, but alas, I’ve had better things to do. Like drinking a quart of salt water every morning after drinking laxative tea at night to, you know, clear my pipes.

Anyway, I’m still alive after a week of not eating anything - which is more than I was expecting. But god, if I was a corpse I’d be way skinnier. I was hoping by now I’d have lost twice the weight I’ve actually lost, but oh well. Today my boss told me I looked “skeletal” and that makes me think I’m on the right track.

Next stop:

After mainlining a standing rib roast and chasing it with 2 gallons of spiked eggnog at Christmas, I realized that perhaps I had put on a pound or two. When I unhinged my jaw to swallow a tray of pancetta-leek-goat cheese tartletts, I knew it was time to drag my FUPA to a full-length mirror. This is what I saw:

After fainting and being revived with smelling salts, I made a promise to myself: that I would lose that weight, and get my groove back. Problem is, I have no patience. I’m not waiting months to drop some weight. I want results now. So I asked myself: what would Beyonce do?

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Last night I went down to go see Juno. First off I want to highly recommend this movie. I went in expecting canned quirkiness, the likes of the the boring, uncreative, and predictable Little Miss Sunshine, and came out of the movie feeling like I had seen something really special and precious instead. Ellen Page’s performance (remember her from Hard Candy?!) is really something wonderful, Michael Cera is adorable (even if he acts exactly the same here a he does in Arrested Development), and Jennifer Garner doesn’t make me want to shoot myself.

The only downside perhaps is the soundtrack. It’s 80% Moldy Peaches with some Belle and Sebastian and other late 90’s/early 00’s indie emo thrown in for good measure (just in case the Moldy Peaches didn’t have you feeling mellow, romantic, and depressed already). It’s basically all the emo I listened to in early college. I especially cringed at the end when Michael Cera and Ellen Page are lying down post-birth in the hospital bed and they start playing Cat Power’s cover of “Sea of Love.” I haven’t been that uncomfortable since I was watching an episode of Gossip Girl and Dan Humphries was trying to lose his virginity to Serena Van Der Woodsen and puts on some Elliott Smith on vinyl.

But really, the main reason I object is because I am secretly emo and hate seeing the music I listen to alone in my room used in pop culture media to manipulate my emotions. Let’s be honest. I mean, back in 2003, I had a boyfriend that used to make me put on Either/Or to get in the mood because “Between the Bars” was one of his favorite songs of all time (mine too for that matter). How can I not feel weird seeing that reflected on screen?

But the main reason I am writing is not to talk about the movie. I am not writing to get devo to my emo, but rather to talk about what I ate during the movie. I can only refer to it as jiggly-orange, even though the movie theater concessions stand labels it cheese. Read More!

It turns out Eeez and I both have to be in the office on this beautiful post-Thanksgiving day that we should have off. I shared my Thanksgiving with her via gchat while updating the interweb sites I work on for, you know, my real job that pays me.

me: everyone liked my appetizers, but like, mmmm, they made some awesome food
also, we found out 15 sticks of butter were used
that’s a stick per person

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There’s this place downstairs from my office called The Seattle Café.

I don’t know where they get this name from. There’s nothing remotely Seattle about the place. They have crappy coffee. The menu lacks homemade granola or a tofu scramble, and there is no cedar smoked salmon on anything. They don’t even have a Pacific Northwest Indian rendition of an Orca on the wall. A good example of a true Seattle cafe would be The Hi-Spot. Here hippies toil away at delicious home made cinnamon buns and baked goods daily, as well as serving up some hippie food with local and seasonal ingredients. And the coffee is delicious.

There is one thing on Seattle Café’s menu that I have never before seen in my life. And, guys, this dish is an epidemic sweeping our nation.

The egg white wrap with cheese.

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I am back in New York! Yay! I really missed all the diseased pigeons.

Speaking of birds, I had my first experience ever with probably the best fast food chain I have ever experienced. And that chain would be…

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So I had to take a plane today and am away from New York. In North Carolina. So I guess I am the North Carolina correspondent for the day. What do you even call a blog correspondent? A blogespondent? A correblogdent?

While I was on my way down here, I was on Jet Blue. I was obviously watching Food Network, because I needed to watch a Thanksgiving episode of Barefoot Contessa where the ever-wonderful Ina Garten makes a “banana pumpkin mousse torte” (her mother didn’t raise her on traditional pumpkin pies, she explains). A commercial break, between her excited, short breathed tale of how Jeffrey requested she make a turkey instead of ham and preparing two types of cranberry conserves, a commercial came on that made me vomit a little in my mouth.

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