posted by meowser
I’ve been a bit under the weather the past couple of days, so my post-New York vacation report is a bit delayed. But, better late than never, nu?
Anyway, some quick notes, in no particular order of significance:
– Flying with a cold still suhhhhhcks. Two days after landing, my ears still hurt. Ow, ow, ow.
– John’s Pizzeria on Bleecker Street is still droolworthy after all these decades. Even a plain pie is a gastronomic delight — perfect crispy thin-but-foldable crust, smokily flavored tomato sauce (were those San Marzanos? eep!) and mozzarella, ahhhh. Once I’ve had coal oven pizza, I want no other for a very long time. I understand the ecological reasons we’ll never get to have it in Portland, but I reserve my right to pump saliva over it.
– Next time I leave town, the upstairs futon is getting a kittyproof slipcover. ‘Nuff said. (BINKLEY I KNOW IT WAS YOU, YOU BAD BOY!)
– Lee Lee’s Valise is everything Fillyjonk said it was, and more. This plus-sized Brooklyn boutique is an absolute must visit if you are ever in New York. Don’t worry, not everything there costs an arm and three boobs, although undoubtedly some things do (and if you’ve got the dough they’re worth it, dayyyum). Lisa, the owner, put this place together with such style, such passion, for clothing the full-figured form, it steals my breath in entirely the right way. And yes, as The Rotund already told you, shopping with such an extraordinary group of brilliant, talented, witty, and yet unbelievably NICE (and body-accepting!) fat chicks — TR, FJ, Kate Harding, Fatshionista Lesley, Substantia Jones, and blog-friend Karen — was just four-handkerchief FABULOUS, something I’d never come close to having before. Seriously, y’all might just have saved my damn life. (Yes, everything you think they are, they really ARE, and then some!)
– Much to my relief, the minor weight loss I incurred after discontinuing Effexor was noticed by absolutely no one in my family. (Only my mom, who was visiting the city, knew about it, because I felt I should tell her before she bought me any more clothing for a present.) Nor did my dad push Weight Watchers on me, although I couldn’t help but grok that Mr. Can’t-Eat-That-Too-Many-Chemicals-In-It was now consuming tortilla chips made with the dreaded Olestra (ewwww!) to “save points” (double ewwww!). He swore it didn’t make him poop his undershorts or anything. Whew, that’s a relief.
And…there was a great moment when we all (Dad, stepmom, C., and I) went out to dinner and the subject of deep-fried Twinkies came up somehow (oh, it was probably me). The following dialogue then ensued:
Dad: “Yeah, well, there’s an epidemic of…”
Stepmom (who’s about a size 16 or thereabouts): “An epidemic of WHAT?”
Me: “Yeah, what?”
Dad: “Uh…an epidemic of people eating really nasty things.”
P.S. He still doesn’t know about this blog. I don’t think he really wants to know.