Friday, September 28, 2012

it's fall, y'all.

issue fourteen. is summer over yet?! september is a tricky goddamned month. in like a fiery lion cast out of the pit of satanic death and out like a cool, crisp lamb wearing a light cashmere scarf to ward off the chill, this first month of fall hearkens the return of all of my most favorite things: 1 the end of drunk, vomiting cubs fans fucking up the goddamned red line train 2 wool sweaters 3 drafting my fantasy football team 4 sons of anarchy and the good wife back on my motherfucking tv screen every week and 5 kids locked away in school-jail ten hours a day. as a person with a weekday off, there is no greater joy in my life than the witnessing of inaugural back to school commercials rolling out midway through every goddamned august. mondays, which during the school year are my sweet respite from the chatter of idiots and the dull roar of angry pet owners, are little more than an extra day to sleep holed-up in the refrigerated air of my apartment during the summer, because to dare to venture outside is to do so at my own peril. is everyone out of work these days? are there really this many children in the city of chicago?! every single time i tried to enjoy a leisurely brunch or take in a movie at 11:30 in the goddamned morning i found my plans rudely intruded upon by troves of sweaty, unsupervised children shouting and cursing and punching each other in the dicks.

like an asshole i tried to see "the dark knight rises" at that big movie theater on western and logan at ten a.m. on a monday, and as soon as i settled in with my popcorn and my industrial-strength imodium this rowdy gang of nine-year-olds ran screaming into the theater lighting explosives and touching everything with their sticky little mouths and hands. HOORAY FOR SCHOOLTIMES. i don't hate kids, i just hate standing in line at starbucks for forty minutes while yours orders seventeen mocha frappucinos and pays for it with her own platinum card. i'm jealous of these little assholes, being all carefree in their supersmall shorts and trying on makeup in CVS while i pick up cream to treat my third yeast infection of the summer. get back in a classroom, jerks. stop reminding me that you have your entire lives ahead of you while i'm desperately trying to pay my light bill, get my chin waxed, and scam my doctor out of a flu shot all on my LUNCH BREAK. jesus, how am i not dead yet. i'm not going to be invited to give any commencement speeches anytime soon, but if i were this is what i would say to them: "the worst part of being a grown-up is having to use the measly forty-five minutes you should be spending eating a cheese sandwich in peace at your desk trying to keep your lights on and shit. never leave college."

nerds rule, fashion drools. for a magazine whore such as myself, september is a dream made of kittens. nothing feels sexier than lugging around the heft of the september issue of your favorite rag with it's must-haves for the season and 9,436 pages of ads. all of that glossy shit i can neither afford nor comfortable fit into just feels so fucking good weighing down my day bag. the other day i rammed accidentally into this dude on the bus and nearly knocked him over with my bag, and he was like, "what's in there, a phone book?" and i scoffed, "NO, DUDE. IT'S THAT NEW ELLE WITH KATY PERRY ON THE COVER." i don't wear white shoes because they are impractical and i don't wear white pants because i would like to avoid looking like an actual bowl of walking cottage cheese, so those fall rules can suck my dick. instead of that outdated mode of thinking, i enlisted the help of harper's bazaar to find out what we should be wearing this fall.

1 dress like a lady. wait, what does this mean? wear lipstick to bed? no more overalls? little white gloves and pearls?! HELP.
2 carry luxe extras. the python clutch pictured with this rule costs more than the car you are driving. not kidding. next.
3 go wild. animal prints are in! which is good because inner me is SO GODDAMNED TACKY. i ordered a leopard-print wrap dress last week. i will be wearing that shit constantly.
4 mix in metallics. fat people in shiny clothing look like honey baked hams covered in tin foil, so i will not be participating in this. mmm, ham.
5 update classics. this is how i get away with buying the same thing over and over again. just call your look "classic." and stay away from neon jumpsuits.

community college 101. so, to date, i am 1/2 done with a degree in mathematcs and have 1/4 of a social work degree completed. and every year around this time, when illinois's many college campuses are shiny and clean and teeming with bright young things ready to make something of themselves and affect some change in the world around them, i become filled with the promise of a new year and get on the internet and start looking at classes, then i remember that i hate school and everyone in school looks and behaves like chief keef and then i give up on everything and go the hell back to bed.

PUT YOUR FUCKING HAMHOCKS AWAY. finally, ho. i am a sweater/jacket/poncho/cape/decorative scarf wearing motherfucker, and this crispy weather gives me SO. MUCH. LIFE. i'm sick of smelling all these roasting vaginas on the bus; put some pants on, bitch: IT'S KIND OF ALMOST COLD. man, thank goodness for fall. i no longer have to worry about my pantiliner detaching from my underpants and falling from under the ankle-length skirts that account for my "summer clothes." no more suffering the withering looks from people wondering why i have sleeves and a scarf on while they're catching skin cancer under the high noon sun. time to order my black turtlenecks sweaters for the year. seasonal affective disorder: OVER.

let's make human hibernation a real thing. sorry, magazines, but the last thing i want to do is figure out how to turn my kitchen into a makeshift racetrack and use my shower curtain rod to do pull-ups so i can keep my jelly tight during the winter months. don't you know that this is pot roast weather?! as soon as there is a chill in the air all of the cozy people i know (the kinds of people who actually make their houses a home and have shit like "extra blankets" and "more than one plate") start baking and roasting and i stop grocery shopping altogether. 'tis the season for this poor unfortunate soul, because nesting bitches gotta cook so orphan bitches gotta eat.

stew is my jam. seriously, there is nothing better on earth than cradling a hot bowl of fragrant stew close to your chest on a chilly fall night. now that i'm eating vegetables and shit i had to find some alternative comfort foods, and one of my new most favorite food sites is as opposed to my old go-to source now don't get me wrong. there is nothing on earth i would love more than to ladle something called "cheesy bacon hashbrown snickerspie" into my face hole in 1/2 cup scoops still bubbling from the oven. but i've already lost ten pounds in two weeks because i got divorced from sausage and am "on a break" from beef and cheese, so this vegetable shit is obviously the move.

1 large yellow onion, chopped 
3 tablespoon olive oil
3 cups chopped cabbage
1/4 teaspoon cayenne
1 tablespoon fresh ginger root, grated
1 14-ounce can vegetable broth plus 1 can water
3 small or 2 large yams, peeled and cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
1 14-ounce can diced tomatoes
1 10-ounce package frozen, sliced okra
3 tablespoon fresh lime juice
2 tablespoon fresh cilantro, chopped
chopped peanuts for garnish

cilantro sprigs for garnish (optional)

1 in a large stew pot, saute the onions in olive oil on medium heat for about five minutes.

2 add the next five ingredients, including yams. (i buy small ones, they cook better.) add water if necessary to cover vegetables. cover pot and bring to a boil. reduce heat and simmer on medium-low heat for 6-10 minutes, until yams are barely tender.

3 add salt, tomatoes, okra, and lime juice. simmer about 15 minutes, and then stir in cilantro.

4 transfer the stew into a decorative serving dish, if desired. (you don't really own one of those, do you?!) sprinkle with chopped peanuts and a few sprigs of cilantro before serving.

"cabbage/yam/frozen okra soup" is NOT the same as "creamy beef enchilada layered cheesy meatball bake." let's not kid ourselves, this shit is sort of gross. just think of those hot, frustrated jealousy tears of deprivation as fat draining out through your eyeballs. full disclosure: i had a cheeseburger from edzo's yesterday but that doesn't count because it had lettuce on it. and ketchup, which is totally a vegetable. (i have no willpower whatsoever. now you know. judge me if you must.)

does this nightgown turn you on? damn, i gotta step my sext game up. that picture is the goddamned worst because OMG SO MANY CLOTHES. i was at caitlin's house dirty texting with some idiot who requested some phone porn, but i'm mostly lazy and he sort of totally fucking sucks, so i got up and went in the bathroom and took half a dozen pictures snarling at the camera in a nightgown and her mom's robe. i even have a towel on my head in a couple of them because i like to sext while deep conditioning my hair. taking pictures of yourself is embarrassing, so i usually crop my face out and focus on my bra, but i was pretty bored and uninspired by this gentleman plus people with nice bathrooms have mirrors that don't require i stand on a fucking stool to get my giant pepperoni areolas in the shot.

the first time i ever got a picture of a dick in my phone it was one i'd already seen before, taken by my boyfriend at the time as he was taking a shit in a bathroom stall at work with the caption "girl, do you know what to do with this?" WHAT A GODDAMNED DUMMY. i responded "wipe it down and spray some lysol on it?" during a later argument he said i had "damaged his self-esteem" when i'd written that, and i told him he damaged my life esteem by sending me a cock shot in which i could see his pulled-down underwear and feet. ps: YOU ARE MOIST. the next dude shaved his testicles and drew eyes on them and called his dick pen-occhio, and he got an A for creativity and originality but an F for being a kind person who didn't need to borrow money from me all the time.

in the sexting dark ages i used to just take my little flip phone and take a picture of my bent forearm and pretend it was my vagina, i'll wait here while you try that shit and laugh, but as phones got better my photography skills improved, and now i'm pretty good at leaning on my bathroom counter while jamming my tits together without dropping my evo in the sink to its death. i just got a bunch of new fancy bras (because they were on sale but so what, okay?), so if i have your phone number (and, if not, why don't i?!) you better warn your eyeballs. me and my stretch marks are about to get all up in your iPorn. lucky you, i'm due for a hot oil treatment. rawr.