Then I have the perfect solution for you! New York Magazine, or, more specifically NYMag.com, has just launched this new online shopping feature called The Strategist. It's basically a bunch of lists of amazing shit you never knew existed but need to buy immediately. LIKE LITERALLY NOW. Within three minutes of looking at the site this morning I proceeded to purchase two bottles key lime juice and a face razor for women from Japan.
It's perfect and it's going to be all our nightmares.
I just bought a $5 keychain at TJ Maxx that looks like Cher's pen (you know, THE PEN) and I've never felt happier. It's the little things, guys. Hope everyone's Wednesdays are going fabulous!
I was so excited for the premiere of Divorce. Like many a woman who spent countless high school nights back in 2003 clutching a sharp-cornered, easter-egg colored plastic Sex and the City DVD box set and daydreaming about one day living in NYC, wearing a tutu and "working in PR", I consider the indelible Sarah Jessica Parker (aka SJP, aka perfume mogul/shoe mogul/Ferris’ wife) not only a national hero but...also, like...sort of a friend? (And yes, she—okay, fine her characters—kind of annoy me sometimes, too, but let’s be honest, all our friends annoy us, and we annoy them. HERLO, IT’S CALLED FRIENDSHIP.)
But then I read the reviews of Divorce, because I’m a dork and I always read reviews, and they were all sort of….unenthused. Sort of meh. Sort-of-to-definitely cranky pants. They basically made it sound like Divorce was going to be really depressing and a total downer and that it would, like, make you feel—hypothetically—the way you would if the Republican nominee for President of the United States was caught on tape saying he enjoyed grabbing married women’s pussies and getting away with it and freaking MIKE PENCE of all people is going to have the nerve to still stand around taking long drawn-out pauses between sentences and talking about God and forgiveness and pretending that he’s okay with this shit?? (I really CAN'T with Gov. Pence. Because, yes, when stupid assclowns who are one step away from Robert Dursting their sons do sexist racist gross shit it really upsets me—duh—but what REALLY GETS ME GOING is the people around him, who SHOULD KNOW BETTER pretending it’s okay (I’m looking at you IVANKA WHY WHY WHY) ESPECIALLY when all they do is talk about how important their faith and morality are to them. Sorry Pence, but no, I don’t believe you think this is a good Christian man. Like, dude, come on.)
ANYHOW….back to Divorce! I watched it, and it’s so great! I loved it so much. So much, in fact, that I’m going to make a list about what I loved about it, because I heard that lists are cool and people like them? Like something about Buzzfeed or BJ Novak or something?
THINGS I LOVED ABOUT THE DIVORCE PILOT (duh, some vague spoilers ahead)
I was born in Massachusetts, and therefore am contractually obligated by God to be obsessed with any and all things Kennedy, and WOW, can I say I am so excited for this movie. How beautiful and chilling is this trailer? I feel more cultured just looking at the damn freeze frame. And yes Jackie looks like it's going to be hyper-super-duper stylized (it's also not a "traditional" biopic in that it takes place only over the few days following the President's assassination) but I think that's what is going to make the film so great.
In terms of Natalie Portman playing Jackie Kennedy, I think it's a genius casting move. Portman is definitely much more of a shrimp than the First Lady was, which I find a tad bit distracting but, like, whatever, because Portman definitely DOES have that intimidating I-am-so-beautiful-and-chic-and-rich-and-yet-maybe-slightly-depressed air about her that Jackie had....sorry Katie Holmes, but your crooked Ohio smile is far too joyful for these shenanigans. And that ACCENT—totally insane, yes, but all I know is that whenever I go to the JFK museum in Boston (which I obviously visit on the reg while rotating through my vast collection of pillbox hats) and hear old recordings of Jackie Kennedy speaking, she actually DOES sound like that. (All the old people be shaking their heads, like, yep, she damn sure did.) It's pretty cray. Like, whhhhy did women used to speak that way? Should it make a comeback?
"But make suuuure you get me the coooooald brew at Dunkin' Donuts dahling and not that regularrrr," she said in a bizarre girlish whisper befitting a girl of age four before tightening the silk scarf around her neck and checking Instagram with a glazed over sex look in her perfectly eye-linered eye. Is this way of speaking at least better than vocal fry? Or wait is that vocal fry? Hmm, I haven't had breakfast and now I want fries...
Whatever, the most important thing to know about the movie is that Greta Gerwig is in it, and therefore that means it actually will be perfect. And the clothes. Not to be all like that....but THE CLOTHES. That pale green dress always kills me.
Anyway, hey, it's almost the weekend!
I was getting into bed last night, quaking with anxiety over the VP debate (people interrupting each other makes me VURY comfortable) when I turned and asked my boyfriend if he'd be interested in seeing The Girl on the Train over the next few weeks.
(I read the book in a crazy daze in like 24 hours this past summer and have no absolutely no recollection if it was good or not.)
"Yeah, maybe," he replied. "Who's in it?"
"Only the world's greatest human being, Emily Blunt. And Justin Theroux-
"Justin Theroux? You know, Jennifer Anniston's husband? He's on The Leftov-
"Babe," he said, settling into bed to check the fantasy football crop circles predictions on his iPhone. "I have no idea who Jennifer Aniston's husband is."
That's funny, I thought. No idea who Jennifer Anniston's husband is! Hahaha!! I began to lean forward slightly and laugh wildly, as if I was at an InStyle party in a sequined halter dress with my very tan and black-clothes loving husband who also co-wrote Tropic Thunder and is from D.C.
Like, I'm sorry, but what? I mean, you think you know someone, and then you realize you have NO IDEA what's going on in their head, ever, and that they probably haven't ever read a single article about Jennifer Aniston in their life and have zero clue that Sia sang at her wedding and then she and J-Tha went on their honeymoon with the Batemans! Men are weird.
Have you ever been watching an NBA game or the Olympics and thought to yourself “I wonder what it would like if a normal person was shown competing next to these people? You know, like some regular dude (fine me) who just ate half a Domino's pizza and is about to start clipping their toenails and then suddenly they’re thrown into the game and expected to not even defend LeBron but just, like, keep up with him?” I think sometimes we don’t appreciate these long jumpers, tele skiers, Serena Williams-s of the world—what have you—because they make it all look too easy. We need some perspective. This is also how I feel about cooking.
Example: below is a photograph of the finished polenta I made for my boyfriend last week, while cooking a Real Simple recipe I found called “Pork Chops with Sauteed Apple and Polenta.
And here’s the magazine’s photo of the final meal, below. Our polenta looks somewhat different, right? Just a little? (I’m still unclear on what polenta actually is by the way, but I suppose that’s a different issue entirely.)
Basically, food styling is the death of me. I really think all our lives would be better if a) Donald Trump doesn’t become President and b) every cookbook/blog was forced to update their content to also contain a “real meal prepared by a real person who still isn’t that good at chopping shallots yet and whose boyfriend is better at making the bed then she is” photo. Just to, like, lower our expectations a little. We don’t all need to see the Simone Biles photo of the pork and sauteed apples Real Simple! (Though I suppose the argument that if they ran the photo of my hack-job polenta in the magazine people would probably gag and throw the Real Simple down and vow to never cook again...but still—maybe something halfway?)
Anyhow, I solved the problem of the ruined grain (I think I just bought the wrong kind? Like, it wasn’t instant? Seriously, what is polenta?) by taking a cue from my girl Ina G. and just straight up lying to my boyfriend. You know, that whole “never let them see you sweat!” thing, or whatever. Like, if you’re holding a dinner party and you burn the roast for six people you just say it was planned all along with a “throaty” laugh and then hand everyone a martini and a handful of stale nuts and tell them a pizza is on its way? I feel like I read that somewhere once...but yeah, I just lied to my boyfriend and said we were pulling a Tom and Gisele-like cleanse and eating only meat and vegetables for dinner. (Later, when he saw the left-for-dead polenta floating aimlessly on the stovetop he yelped and asked me “what was I going to do with that thing.”)
Known non-polenta eater
The truth is I do really want to get better at cooking and not ruining recipes. So I recently signed up for Home Chef, aka one of those meal delivery services that send you three meals a week in a box and everything is prepackaged into perfect portions and there are step-by-step guides as to how to prepare everything so you barely have to think about what to make for dinner and can focus solely on how terrified you are of Donald Trump Jr. becoming Secretary of the Treasury. (And no, this is not a #sponsored post for Home Chef, though, believe me, I would LOVE nothing more than to ever have the chance to write #sponsoredcontent for this blog. Like, all I want to do is pose in front of exposed brick somewhere in Beacon Hill while holding a latte and wearing a pair of Chico's chandelier earrings and be like “guys, you should totally shop at Chico's, look at these earrings, they’re such a good transition day-to-night item!” and then get paid seventy-five cents for it.) Alas, I’m just writing about Home Chef because I’m trying it.
And so far, so good! I’ve made two of the first three meals and they’ve both been quite tasty! And I will say it's sort of trippy to find yourself standing in your kitchen stirring a “cajun remoulade” and thinking like, “I would literally never have made a cajun remoulade in my entire life but some Stanford grad realized how lazy I am and just took my money and sent it to me in the mail and now I’m making air-mailed cajun tilapia? Like what?”
There is one major drawback to the service so far, which I will illustrate for you through a conversation I had with my mother on the day the first box of food arrived. She was over, helping me unpack some books. The following unfolded as I began to take the food out of the Home Chef box and put everything away in the fridge:
Mom: “Um….wow, this is a lot of packaging.”
Me: “No it’s not. It’s normal. Think about my carbon footprint of, like, going to the grocery store, and then you buy a huge jar of horseradish sauce you only use once and then you throw it out three years later? And like, who isn’t always finding moldy broccoli in their fridge?”
Silence. The mother continues to inspect the box.
Mom: “No no... this is not….there’s too much foam-look at this!
She proceeds to pull a foam pad the size of a husky toddler out of the cardboard box.
Mom: “This is so much foam!”
Me: “Well, chicken from the supermarket comes in a foam container!
Mom:“Not this MUCH foam!”
The concerned mother continues to reach into the box and pull plastic things out Mary Poppins-style.
Mom: “I mean, what are you going to do with all these ice packs!”
Environment-hater quickly googles “home chef ice packs” and sees that the goo in them is “safe” and that the packs can be cut open and the goo poured down the sink.
Me: “Um, duh I’ll just cut them open and pour the goo down the sink! And I’ll save one to use for when I burn myself cooking! The goo is good for the environment, Mom! Get with the times!”
The daughter cuts the packs open. Soon the bottom of her sink is covered in a sludgy, creepy goo. It feels like the beginning of a sci-movie where the villains are lazy millennials. The mother turns to her daughter.
Mom: “I just...I personally wouldn’t be comfortable getting this every week-”
Me: “MOM PLEASE STOP YOU’RE RUINING MY HOME CHEF HIGH!”
Mom: “Sorry, sorry.”
Then we turned on the tv and watched Sweet Home Alabama, which I haven’t seen in forever, and can I just say, how completely RIDICULOUS is that movie? Poor Reese having such a hard time choosing between two incredibly handsome, rich, nice men, just one is dark-haired and the other is blonde. Decisions, decisions! I did note, however, that this off-the-shoulder top trend that just won’t quit may have begun with this movie?
It's a mystery. Anyhow, I’m making pork medallions tonight. Maybe I’ll post a picture.
Now that fall is here, and I am spending a lot of time staring out the window wistfully and collecting decorative gourds, I am also remembering how much I enjoyed Ryan Adams' 1989 cover album that came out last year. That's right, an entire album of emo Taylor Swift covers. It's so amazing. It was essentially made for brushing your hair slowly while wearing a gigantic sweater and thinking about the concept of frost. And if you haven't heard it yet YOU'RE WELCOME.
I like basically every cover on the album, but I'm gonna go with "Shake It Off" and "All You Had To Do Was Stay" as the two to share here. (Blank Space is also SUPER emo and great.)
Sort of imagining me and Hillary driving around upstate NY in a vintage red convertible right now, sharing a small bag of caramel popcorn and blasting this album....is that weird?
Happy Monday Earthly friends! I hope everyone had a fantastic weekend filled with flannel shirts, rolling around in leaves, slugging PSLs and watchin' fertball because—OPRAH VOICE—"Faaaaaall issssssssss heeeeeere!" And thank the Lord for that, right? That cool air just feels so good when it hits your lips/face/hair, etc.
Anyhow, I had big plans all weekend to write a killer Hilldog post for ya'll (Hilldog is my affectionate name for Sec. Clinton) but then, like, everyone else seems to have taken care of it for me. Editorials coming out for her up the wazoo. People being all "you know...she's kind of awesome and NOT just because she's not Trump. Because she's a life-long public servant, a bad-ass who won't quit, and actually seems somewhat moderate, which (gasp) might be something our deeply divided nation needs." I, for one, have always felt most comfortable with a passionate, hardworking nerd being in charge, including one that isn't lazy like me and needs to be told to take it easy when they're sick. I like intense people. I admire them.
And though I know Seth Meyers has already pointed this fact out brilliantly, I just have to reiterate that what I really REALLY dislike about candidate Trump is how much he manipulates his views and lies to the American public. It's gross. Hearing him speak when he's lying like that literally makes my skin crawl. And the sad truth is a lot of what Trump says is deplorable (which people point out constantly) and though I'm not, like, a Math major or anything I do think, what, 10 to....27% of the country actually believes in a lot of his racist, sexist "views"? (I don't know if you can actually call them views as I don't believe Trump has any other thoughts in his head other than MONEY, GET ON TV, SPRAY TAN, GET ON TV, HAVE PEOPLE TALK ABOUT ME, SPRAY TAN.) But yes, the fact that a portion of our country holds these upsetting views and therefore is attracted to Trump's candidacy is disturbing. I get that. It's been said a lot. But it shouldn't be that much of a shock, and you can often trace why. It's certainly not an act. It's a matter of education, upbringing (we usually share the same views as our parents, and their parents) and other factors, like, well, some people suck. But people aren't lying about it. It's what they think. And because I tend to view the world solely through the lens of Vanity Fair celebrity profiles (doesn't everyone?) I am reminded of the great Jennifer Garner quote from this year, in regards to her ex's potential new gigantic back tattoo. Garner said, where she comes from, people would look at that and just shake their head and say "Bless his heart." As in, "I feel badly for you. You are dumb and probably suffering. But you don't know better."** But Donald Trump is not that person. He does know better. And he still is comfortable saying racist, dangerous things, inciting hate and making false promises about how he, and he alone, can keep our country safe, as if ISIS can be solved with a little pixie dust or something.
My boyfriend and I went out for BBQ Saturday night, and then had the meat sweats, so we came home and put on an SNL re-run before bed like really cool people in their late twenties and early thirties are wont to do. And the Weekend Update did a segment where they shared a tweet of Trump's from 2012, right after President Obama spoke at Sandy Hook.
Looking at that tweet, I had the urge to cry and then break my boyfriend's television. Because, um....what was that Mr. Trump???? THAT is the kind of thing that really boggles my mind, and boggles my mind that any logical person can still support him, even though they're being lied to and manipulated so much. His ability to go from not only having an opinion that supports the President and sensible gun safety measures, but PUBLICLY sharing it, and then during this campaign to essentially change or refute so much of who he's been and what he's said....I mean, a gazillion other people have pointed this out much more eloquently than I just did, but...how can anyone not be alarmed by that? What does that indicate about a person's moral fiber?
But, whatever, I'm boring myself. I sort of feel like sharing one's thoughts on the election at this point is like talking about the dream you had last night (or not, and that's just how functioning democracies work? one or the other...) but I'm the type of person who always babbles on about their dreams so I'll just keep going!! But I am aware of the echo chamber that occurs when people who share all the same views talk about their views to those same people who share their views all the time and it's just like a hunky-dory hate fest 24/7 and we're never forced to actually think about anything outside our experience. (Quick thought: is THIS why Drake named his album Views?) Like, I literally planned to write even more than I already have on this matter...and then I'm like, well whose mind am I trying to change? I don't know many people who disagree with me. And the ones I do know, welp, they aren't changing their minds any time soon. They hate Hillary. It's made-up. So then I'm like, okay, but still, 100 million people are going to watch the debate tonight (I'm making debate tilapia) and of those people WHO THE FINKLE hasn't made up their mind? Who are these "undecided voters?" I'm fascinated by the mere idea of them. Is it more that they plan to NOT vote (don't understand) but maybe will at the last second? But to be on the fence about two candidates that are such a stark contrast in intellect, temperate, and MORALITY (also did I mention intellect?) makes me like...were Brad and Angie always a lie? Where is this video from the tarmac? I don't get it.
To continue on this topic of undecided voters and things that don't matter, I almost vomited all over my laptop the other day when I read that evil genius Kim Kardashian was "undecided" on the election. This was, of course, after speaking to her brilliant stepmom Caitlyn Jenner about politics. Caitlyn is a transgender woman who is supporting Donald Trump because she think he'll be a better President for women and trans people than Secretary Clinton, or something else that makes .000548% sense. I can't. I can't even.
I just don't understand people, man! Because I would have 100% more respect for Caitlyn Jenner, and frankly anyone supporting Donald Trump, if they were just like "um, actually I have a gazillion dollars (or even if they don't) and I think his tax policies will allow me to keep more of that to myself and that is my number one factor in voting, and thus I will vote for him." I mean, whatever. Fine. I don't have a gazillion dollars. (I know, I know, I work part-time at a shoe store so it's hard to wrap your head around this fact, but it's true.) So I truly do not KNOW what I would do in that position if I had that much money, and though I disagree with it and like to think I would stay fundamentally the same person I am now with the same Drake-Views, at least I can see some logical thought process there. "Me like money. Trump let me keep more of my money. Money still more important than hate mongering candidate's foreign policy background and hideous moral fiber and the fact that it appears he doesn't read. Money, money, money." Fine. But don't f-ing fool me with with this "Trump would be better for women" garbage, or "Trump is a straight talker" BULLSHIT. He's the OPPOSITE of a straight talker! (See above tweet.) There is literally so much smoke coming out of those people's asses when they say shit like that I can only think of calling the fire department, which of course makes me think one of my favorite, unheralded movies of all time, Frequency!
(Also, they're making this movie into a TV show?? Cray-cray. But seriously I love this movie and you should watch it.)
Anyway, back to Hilldog. I love her. I wanted to just write a whole post about her but the truth is I love her, and always have, sort of like in Braveheart. I wish I had been more open about it sooner (fine, that probably doesn't matter at all, whatever) but I feel like her "enthusiasm gap with voters" or whatever they're calling it, is partly people like me's fault, because the media has shamed us into wanting to hide the fact that her life and candidacy makes us excited, as if that's deeply uncool or something. But anyhow, I hope she crushes it tonight Bill Belichick style. I hope she just masterminds the shit out of Trump with her play-calling. I hope she feels as hot and captain-like in her pantsuit as Brady on his best day, and then if something is going wrong or she gets knocked down by Trump, she channels her inner Garoppolo and comes out of nowhere with some fire answers, and THEN if something else seems to not be going her way Hilldog pulls up her inner Jacoby Brissett, and is just like, I AM A POISED ROOKIE THIRD STRINGER, I AM UNSTOPPABLE LIKE THE 2016 PATRIOTS, COME AT ME AMERICA.
Really I just hope Mrs. Clinton goes with her gut and is like "I'm an ADULT and the only ADULT running for President. Enough with this bullshit, our country's problems are too big for it." Yeah, that should TOTALLY be her new campaign slogan. Anyway, good luck Hillary. I hope you do great, and afterwards that you curl up on the couch with a nice cup of tea and watch Frequency.
**Important PSA: I love Ben Affleck. Just want to make sure that's clear.
cause it's so freaking hot out right now! Still!
I know, I know, I'll be begging for mercy from the cold within a few short months, having exhausted all seven tubes of skin cream for lizards I stock up on each winter just to keep my hands looking partly human, but I am DONE with all this warmth right now! Come on weather gods! I want to wear socks! And make stew! And wear socks while making a stew!
Hmm, just had a thought of, like, is this something only New England-ers feel? Cause it's perfectly lovely out right now. I was just outside and it's beautiful. Like, why am I complaining? Who knows, maybe if it's nice out all the time you just never complain, and you're just...happy? And not even thinking about the weather? Huh. Must be weird to live in California.
Anyway, here's some sweater porn (#sweaterporn) to hold us over until fall actually gets here.
"We are constantly evolving into who we are. We are always growing." 🤔 Perhaps Hillary ate one of those crab apples your mother always told you not to eat when you were a kid cause they were probably filled with worms and would make you say stuff that sounds like you're high? Regardless, that sweater is everything and has been haunting my dreams for years.
Haters gonna hate but ya'll know if you looked this good in a cream cape and orange lipstick you'd be making this face too.
Um...yah, I'm all set GoopyG...but thanks.....
jk jk jk I go on Goop all the time and am like, tell me GoopyG, TELL ME YOUR SECRETS TO MEETING/BEING A SWEATER WHISPERER!! (But seriously tell me.)
Welp, she's done it again folks. The whisperer has spoken. This feels totally in-between seasons. Wearing it tomorrow. DONE. She's right. Goopy's always right. She knows the sweater secrets.
Hi! I'm Caroline.