rice
There’s this blazer I’ve been stalking for months on the Internet.
Most people stalk their exes or that new hire at work who seems way too quiet, but I stalk blazers. One specific blazer to be exact. At regular retail, it’s well out of the price range I’m comfortable impulse buying at. But on sale - oh, on sale, it fits snugly in that range. Add some rewards points and I finally had myself a “click through to check out.”
Being a book publicist is so similar to dating in New York City it scares me sometimes.
There's that blind period, waiting for the other person to respond. There's the game of either making them sweat it out or scrambling to make sure your window of opportunity doesn't slam shut. You have to reach out, wait, reach out again, get frustrated, use interest from somewhere else to get interest from the place you really want. Read and re-read email drafts. Force yourself to push send. Get anxiety. Put it off. Distract yourself. Go bother a coworker who's doing the same exact thing for her author. Return to your desk. Radio silence. Until *ding* that dopamine hits. With each incoming email, you hold your breath hoping it's the producer or editor saying they're interested in your author. And then, if you're lucky enough, you're in. You do a little happy dance in your chair. If not, you bang your head on the desk and try to take calming breaths. I've had it both ways.
Do you guys ever have those days where you just need a reset? I'm talking about a did-I-really-drink-that-much-beer-and-then-drunk-eat-late-night-pizza-with-my-friends night followed by a concession stand dilemma between M&Ms and Butterfinger bites where your brother tells you to "just get both." By Monday, my body was screaming for something healthy to fuel me for my work outs (I'm looking at you, row class), nourish me past the 2 o'clock slump (keep me away from those vending machines!!) and just get back on the wagon.
When I was growing up, my family kept pretty strict kosher. This meant separate dishes for milk and meat, bringing PB&J sandwiches to birthday parties where non-kosher pizza was served, and eating in exclusively kosher restaurants. The first time I ate at a non-kosher place was when I was sixteen-years-old. It was Panera. I got a bagel. It was very exciting.
Why am I telling you this? Well, besides the fact that it completely shaped how I eat, and is largely the reason why I became a vegetarian, it means that I have no idea what the majority of chain restaurants are. Like, what is PF Changs? Why are people so obsessed with Taco Bell? What the hell is a Whopper? I seriously have no idea.
I can’t tell you how much I love Mexican food.
It combines all of my favorite things – cheese, spice, corn and avocados and can be eaten with your hands. It's my go-to drunk/pre-drunk/drinking/non-drinking-but-just-hangry food (just ask any of my kickball teammates). If I could eat bottomless nachos and never feel sick, I would sign my soul away to the cheese-covered devil.
I will never forget the first time I saw a recipe-sharing site online (I am the least sorry if that dates me). I was at a friend’s apartment my sophomore year of college and we were hanging out in her living room with her roommate. I noticed her roommate was looking at this page full of gorgeous food pics and I asked her what it was.
“Oh, it’s just TasteSpotting.”
“Just?! What do you mean, just?!” I loudly thought in my head. “This is effing amazing!”
“Oh, cool!” I said calmly, feigning a sense of decorum in public.
Since I didn’t get a smartphone (again, dating myself?) until my senior year of college (mmhmm), I waited until I got home to check it out. And oh baby, I don’t think I’ve stopped looking at photos of food since.