We made it to March!
My landlord’s henchman just told me they’re raising the rent. Every time this happens (this has happened every year I’ve lived in New York) I have a mini meltdown, questioning why anyone would spend all of their money just to live in the windiest city in the damn world. I honestly haven’t had a good hair day since 2010. Usually the panic winds down about half a week later, and to celebrate, I go to my local pizza place and get yelled at for taking too long to order.
This week’s passions include: cobblers, Southwest Airlines, Kinder Bueno bars, and the Miles Kimball catalogue.
In my opinion, every shoe hurts. Maybe it’s just my foot. Once I’ve gotten a shoe properly worn in, I’m hesitant to move on, even when the bottoms become nearly see-thru. I had a pair of black loafers I loved but they were so old, they actually rattled when I walked. Like something was in them and trying to get out. Best case scenario: loose pebble, worst case scenario: animal. I brought them to a cobbler, whose storefront looked like a teenager’s bedroom, if that teenager was also a shoelace. He gave my shoes the once-over and said, “come back tomorrow.” I entrusted the loafers to his care and came back the following day. By golly, these suckers were returned to their former glory! No more rattling! They were like Meryl Streep in Death Becomes Her after she takes the little potion! Incredible craftsmanship. Can’t recommend enough. Also, don’t you think a “shoe cobbler” kinda sounds like the job of a guy who eats the shoes?
I’m traveling this week. When left to my own devices, I always choose Southwest Airlines. Yes, it’s a gamble. You don’t know where you’re sitting until you board, and the online flight check-in feels like life or death, and they make you line up by number like you’re at the deli, but there’s a certain thrill that comes with all of it. One time I found a seat open in the first row of the plane. Sure it was a middle seat, but who do you think I sat next to? SPIKE LEE. And what do you think he reading? PEOPLE MAGAZINE. Another time, I ran into an ex-boyfriend right before boarding. He saw me, I saw him, and we both opted to respectively sit in different rows. Southwest Airlines gave us that. I freaking love that airline.
I almost always go grocery shopping when I’m hungry. I know you’re not supposed to, but I’m almost always hungry, so tell me when the hell am I supposed to grocery shop. Doing this does leave me completely vulnerable to treats. I’ve bought Poptarts four separate times this year. It’s March 3. I don’t even like them — every time I eat a Poptart, I end up burning my mouth and both of my hands. They are not well designed! Most recently I purchased a 10-pack of Kinder Bueno bars. It’s a delicate candy bar: four connected chocolate covered wafer pockets filled with hazelnut cream. You think it’s gonna be light and airy but it’s actually sticky and makes you want a glass of water afterwards. Mm, Kinder Bueno.
Lastly, I don’t how I started receiving the Miles Kimball catalogue. I’ve moved three times, and it follows me like some kind of M. Night Shyamalan creature. Probably just by reading this newsletter, Mr. Kimball will find you, too. It’s an odd catalogue — they have seasonal goods, but also microwave egg boilers, non-slip bathmats, and charcoal infused bed covers (to barbecue your spouse?). I suppose it’s going for “the modern day general store”. I usually flip through the pages while making dinner, but this time something stopped me in my tracks on page 1. A description for a seasonal item called Giant Plastic Eggs:
Just please, read it again for me:
Yikes! We’d hate to see the size of the hen that laid these whoppers! Constructed of tough weatherproof plastic with a cute bunny design, these eggs can add beautiful color to your yard. Jumbo grade eggs measure 14”L, with a 14” dia. Assorted colors; we’ll choose for you. Made in the USA. Express shipping not available.
I know everybody says that "baby shoes never worn” is the ultimate short story but I would like to nominate this copy for Giant Plastic Eggs as a close second. Why isn’t express shipping available? Would it wake whatever was living inside? Is it hallow? Is it solid?! Why is it $19.99 for one egg? Are we expected to buy multiples or just have one big egg in the middle of our yard? Why can’t we choose the colors? And in fact, I WOULD like to see the size of the hen that laid these so-called whoppers. Why wouldn’t the writer? What are they so afraid of? Big hens?
“Yikes!”,
Jo