Waitressing In Provincetown
Sometimes chefs would come in too drunk to cook. On more than one occasion, hot bags of garbage tore open all over my lower half. I drank entire swimming pools full of Diet Coke mixed with cranberry juice…
I had to wear pleated khaki pants, an over-sized, tucked-in Izod polo and listen to John Mayer for the entirety of my shift. One afternoon, while listening to “Why Georgia?” I looked out the window to see a dark, skeletal figure peddling toward me on a bike as old as he was. The first pair of words to enter my mind were “Ichabod Crane.” The second were “John Waters.” And indeed, it was. Waters made a little loop around the parking lot and motioned for me to come outside. I smoothed my chinos and scurried. “When are you folks opening for dinner this evening?” he asked. I did my best to answer while sincerely questioning my grasp on reality.
I wrote about waitressing in Provincetown for eight summers, John Waters and John Mayer over on Thought Catalog.
Go have a look.
Inspired by Vintage Bryn Mawr, I’ve started Vintage Smith College. A collection of photos from and inspired by that quaint women’s college in Northampton, Massachusetts.
Follow us, won’t you?
What We Have Going For Us
Hello, I have a piece up over on The Hairpin today.
There are a few things people forget to tell you.
Each year of your twenties is worth three in regular time. The decade moves like dog years except that in the end you suddenly turn 30 as if you didn’t just age a single lifetime. Something happens between the ages of 20 and 25. This is your first go-round as an adult. Your brain shifts and closes and hardens like the soft spot on an infant’s skull. You try harder. You begin to stand up on those baby deer legs and learn how to carry yourself in challenging situations. You eventually grow into a human who is brave enough to wake up before brunch is over, and offices start answering phones with “good afternoon” instead of “good morning.”
Read more here.
Notes On Living With My Ex-Boyfriend For Eight Months
He stands in my doorway and rocks back and forth between the frame. We talk about the people we know. Work. School. The rats. He brings me glass containers of cranberry juice from the store. We each have our own ways of apologizing to each other. Mine just happen to involve whispering “I’m sorry” late at night on the way to the bathroom. Barefoot in front of his door.
Thought Catalog published a piece of mine. I highly recommend you read it over here.
I had a hand in making this thing and I’m pretty proud. Have a look, won’t you?
Check out our latest infographic devoted to the major actors, techniques, values and ideas representing today’s culinary zeitgeist. From chefs and the media, to packaged goods and food politics, these “stops” are suggestive of the people, places and things that have influenced the food world (some more directly than others), thereby becoming part of our Greater Food Culture. Take a ride on the Modern Line, stopping off at Thomas Keller and then maybe head onto the Global Line, paying a visit to David Chang. Wherever you go, you’re likely to learn a bit, be entertained and most certainly eat quite well.
Click for full size.
(via properlysalted)
Reblogged from properlysalted with 1 note / Permalink /
The pizza baby from yesterday sparked a great hunt for more wee ones dressed as foods. Then I rounded them up and wrote about them for work. Go see. The world needs more Babies Dressed As Foods Awareness.
The hot dog and the banana have by far the coolest attitudes. The hamburger doesn’t even have a clue.
(over at properlysalted)
Reblogged from properlysalted with Notes / Permalink /
My kitchen (and family recipe box) are on the cover of Ms. Amy Pennington’s brilliant new book on apartment gardening, edited by my dear friend Whitney. You really aught to go order yourself a copy.
I have a piece up over on HartmanSalt
While the latest trend in food may in fact be predicting food trends, our signs point to the relationship between food and fashion being a lasting one, rooted in deep devotion to experimentation and driven by a collective cultural passion for self-expression.
I’d be thrilled if you gave it a glance.
Millennials are special flowers. Millennials make choices. Millennials are adult babies. Millennials have to eat.
I wrote a piece on how us complex creatures are stuffing our maws.
You may see some familiar faces.
Read here.
