Saturday, May 20, 2006


I'm gonna be honest with you: I "overdid it" last night. I feel like I've been overdoing it for the past year, but I'm not gonna get into that here. I'll just talk specifically about last night. It started with my meeting an ex-boyfriend for a couple of free wine tastings. We are becoming friends, I think, and the easiest way to navigate our friendship is through old activities that we used to enjoy. Namely, drinking. I was very restrained during these tastings -- maybe because most were of white wine, and I generally prefer red, but I didn't finish a single glass, as if I were a person who doesn't NEED freebies and therefore doesn't NEED to finish them. I was silky smooth as I poured my unfinished tastes into the little silver latrines, a gesture that announced, "I'm not here to get drunk for free!" This made me feel classy.

But that feeling was short-lived, because after the tastings, we went to The Hat, a neighborhood Mexican restaurant that attracts poor local hipsters and their poor friends who spend minimal amounts of money on margaritas and platters of mediocre food. The ex suggested we get a margarita pitcher as it's Bargain Central, and I went along with it. The margaritas were frozen, and didn't taste like they had any alcohol in them, which is ALWAYS A BAD SIGN. Especially IF YOU'RE A GIRL, WHICH I AM. I was trying to be responsible, so I kept eating from the free baskets of tortilla chips, dipping them in spicy salsa and a weirdly creamy bowl of guacamole that I regret ordering. And then the buzz was on, I told my ex he looked just as he had on the day we had our first meal together, nearly five years ago, in Brooklyn, at a restaurant that no longer exists. And he said, "We've aged nicely," and I thought to myself, "maybe so."

I am always me, buzzed or sober, so you know what's coming: I became STARVING, and was unable to think of anything other than getting food into my cranky belly. So we went to Tuck Shop, a tiny Australian eatery. I've never been, and never wanted to, but it was cheap and right there and I will say that the curry veggie roll I ordered, though not nearly hot enough, was yummy. Very peppery. Ex got a sausage roll, and everybody knows that nothing is more delicious than sausage. So I made him buy another one, and ate half of it. At this point I had two giant baskets' worth of tortilla chips, half a liter of salsa, about a cup of guacamole, a veggie curry roll, half a sausage roll, and half a pitcher of margarita churning inside me. And it was time for me to leave the ex and go to a work party, and it was time for the ex to leave me and meet up with a pretty girl. So we went our separate ways, as exes, as friends.

At the work party I mixed tequila and grapefruit juice and drank it. Then I ate some M&M's, a Whole Foods Brownie Bite, a chocolate cookie, and a mini stroopwaffel. Then I made another tequila and grapefruit juice and drank HALF of it. Then I was no longer interested in being at the party. I was only interested in being in my bed. But that would have to wait, because I had dragged my friend to the work party and he was antsy to walk to another bar in the neighborhood. I complied, all the while giving him expert, albeit drunken, love advice. DIGRESSION: I think I have turned into a Wing-Man.

I spent about 15 minutes at the bar talking with a DIFFERENT ex-boyfriend who I am also friends with, and then I really very badly wanted to become safely unconscious in my bed. And this feat was achieved! I even managed to get my teeth brushed and my pajamas on! Things were looking good! And BOOM! I was asleep.

Until I woke up, my mouth coated with that mucousy "you're gonna vomit" lube, and my bad belly churning. I was SO TIRED that I couldn't imagine having to run to the bathroom to retch. I really didn't want to! I HATE puking so much! It's one of those things that real adults can handle but, for me, I kind of really need my mommy there. I so rarely puke, but when I is...not cute. Miraculously, though I lay on my side delicately retching, I was not to puke that night. For the Universe was kind, and as I quietly heaved, the nausea slowly dissipated, and I fell back asleep. And BOOM! when I woke up this morning, there was no puke on my person, on my bed, or on my floor!

I didn't overdo it. I just DID IT! I'M MEGAN!

Thursday, May 18, 2006


HOLY MOLY! Something just happened to my mouth and I'm pretty sure that it's STILL HAPPENING whoa! Whoa! WHOA! but I have to write about this before the feeling goes away. Wow: this is really special!

I'm not overstating things when I say that the swirly pain au raisin thingamabob that I am eating/just ate just WRECKED me in an utterly satisfying way. This. Is. Special! This is SOMETHING!

I work near the Time Warner Center but my job ends in about 9 hours and then I won't work near the Time Warner Center anymore and inside the Time Warner Center there is this place I've always wanted to go (no, not Sephora) and it is called Bouchon Bakery. So I seized what little time I had left of The Moment and walked over to the Time Warner Center today and took the two escalators up to Bouchon Bakery and after what I would define as quirkily extended deliberation bought myself a pain au raisin buttery pastry treat for $2.98. I may never spend money so well again, because what I just experienced was extremely delicious and, this is weird, I have a lump in my throat. Oh my goodness I think I am going to cry. I'm sorry, this so rarely happens to me but...whoa, let me just breathe for a second. I'm...I'm getting emotional.

Whoo. Okay...breathing it out. It's just...this treat. This little snacker-doo...Christ, it was good. It was OUTRAGEOUSLY good. Don't look at me like that, it's not JUST FOOD! No, I won't TAKE IT DOWN A LEVEL, what just happened to me was more than JUST FOOD! No, I'm not upset. No, it's okay, really: I'm not sad. I'm crying because I'm happy, okay? These are tears of joy.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006


I love a good dinner party! Oh man, did I just qualify dinner party? I'm a jerk! Basically, any combination of people, homemade food, and an apartment is guaranteed to be good, so why qualify and/or be redundant?! NOT NECESSARY!

Last night I attended a dinner party with a new group of friends and it was hands down a super-duper-to-the-max-extreme-blammo-slammo delightful time! But I expected it would be, because dinner parties are just the kind of civilized evening activity I go for: they're like the Salons For The New Millenium. Without poetry readings or opium. Thank God.

This dinner party worked chiefly because its host was INCREDIBLY gracious. He prepared homemade guacamole, served these amazing Trader Joe's Thai-Spiced Peanuts (I'm now obsessed and will be buying bag-loads), made a corn-bean-salsa salad, a mixed green salad, penne, and had his chef neighbor prepare a spicy chicken and scallion stir-fry. The food was DELICIOUS! I love eating homemade food! It is better than going to a restaurant -- ALWAYS!

The rest of us bought dessert, beer, a bottle of scotch, *Dr. Pepper Berries & Cream, and wine. A lot of wine. Like, a bunch of bottles and even a single box. The box wine received a lot of attention, at first skeptical. We ultimately had a blind taste test between the box wine (Merlot) and a bottle (Malbec). Because I'm pretentious AND addicted to fermented grapes, I guessed correctly, but the rest of the party had some trouble. Eventually the bottles and most of the box were dispensed with. As was the scotch. As was our collective sobriety. Needless to say we all became very funny and entertaining indeed, with secrets being un-secreted and confessions being confessed. There was a lot of hugging and smiling. I even said "Awwww...." a couple of times, but not because my heart became full to overflowing: I said it 'cause I'm folksy.

We are all so lovely when we want to be, and now all I want to be is MORE lovely!

*I know you must be on pins and needles but sadly NOBODY drank the Berries & Cream!

Tuesday, May 16, 2006


Apologies in advance:

"If music be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die."

Orsino, Twelfth Night (I, i,1-3)

I love this!
I hate this!

Orsino, the Duke, says this as he thinks about his unrequited love for Olivia, but really: isn't he just in love with love?

Ah, I can relate, Orsino! I feel your pain, muchacho! It's why I listen to music. It surely is the food of love, but I would also say that music is the food of life. Music is the score to my memory, my nostalgia, my joy, my grief. It is the metronome keeping time to all my life's experience, and it feeds me as much as, if not more than, food. And my body is never satisfied! Like eating, the more I indulge, the more I want; it perpetuates its own impulse. I thought I was full but then, there it is: I am hungry AGAIN!

And isn't it all a matter of taste? Some people don't care what they put in their mouths, just as some don't care what they hear in their ears. Some find delight in any meal, just as they might find some joy in any melody. I am not like that. But when I do like something, I just can't get enough!

Music. Food. Love.

I am Orsino: all of the binge, none of the purge.