Let me just say that foreigners completely dominated the Oscars last night. The viewing was held at S’s apt as usual, but this time it was I who provided the meal for a change. And when I provide the meal it of course means that it’s a bucket of KFC original recipe with potato wedges and mashed potatoes. S is the only person who will split a KFC bucket with me since I guess he is the only other person who doesn’t get grossed out by it — oh, and Carrie Bradshaw.
Anyway, I will spend $20 on a bucket of KFC if S will eat it, since he always feeds me and I owe him a million meals, but I can only justify spending that much money on food if he will eat it; I would never spend $20 on a meal on myself. So imagine my rage when S refuses to eat it at first and threatens to order something else. I threw a complete fit, screaming YOU BETTER FUCKING EAT THAT CHICKEN, YOU BETTER FUCKING FINISH THOSE THIGHS BECAUSE I BOUGHT THIS ENTIRE BUCKET FOR YOU. I’m pretty sure everyone else in the room thought I was psycho, but really I’m just poverexic.
And then as if that weren’t enough, S nearly throws out a half-eaten pint of chocolate Haagen Daz, and I yell hysterically as he’s putting it in the trash can, ARE YOU FUCKING THROWING THAT AWAY!?!??!? ARE YOU FUCKING THROWING OUT AN ENTIRE PINT OF HAAGEN DAZ?!?!?! THAT CAN FEED ME FOR TWO WHOLE DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!
I was in a room full of bankers, none of whom appreciate the value of food, and that combined with the fact that Penelope “I can’t-speak-English-worth-shit” Cruz won best supporting actress made me so pissed that I just took a random danish that I found on S’s living room table and stuffed it in my purse.
Anyway, the point of that story was that I now have enough food to last me through the rest of the week.
Poverexic in NYC 