cool is contagious

Things I Could Do to Become an Actual Adult

1. Buy a friggin bed skirt
2. Wake up early enough to eat breakfast at home in the morning while reading the newspaper and leisurely sipping coffee
3. Wake up early enough to wash my hair
4. Wake up early enough to pick out an outfit that doesn’t scream I’m-a-20-something-living-in-Bushwick
5. Just wake up earlier
6. Save $moNeY$ instead of brunching like I ball
7. Learn what a “mortgage” is
8. Know how the “stock market” works
9. Finish reading “Young, Broke, and Fabulous” (never got to the fabulous part, broke section was too sad)
10. Buy a cutting board intended for humans, not elves
11. Do pilates… or yoga… or SOMETHING
12. Quit eating McDonald’s like that shit plus no exercise won’t catch up with me—oh wait, it’s caught up with me! 
13. Feel the same excitement about marriage and children that I feel when there’s a new Amanda Bynes Twitpic
14. Floss
15. Quit feeling nostalgia for Flavor of Love, Daisy of Love, Rock of Love, I Love New York (okay really any VH1 show between 2006-2008)

We’ve got a lot of work to do.

Brunch & the City

My love of breakfast foods dates back to my elementary school years. At least once a week, my Daddy would take my little sister and me out to a bright and early breakfast before school. Margaret Ann’s favorite spot was Evan’s Fine Foods. Here my four-year-old sister would take shots of coffee creamer while she waited for her signature dish: eggs sunny side up.

Evan’s always kinda sketched me out. Most of the clientele was ancient—seriously one time an elderly woman had a heart attack or something in the middle of her grits and eggs and had to be rushed away in an ambulance! Talk about a breakfast buzzkill. Also the silverware was greasy.

No, my spot was The Original Pancake House. Strawberry pancakes with fresh strawberries and homemade whipped cream—none of that berry syrup bullshit—and bacon. The end. Seriously, I love that place so much, I used to force my high school boyfriend who lived in South Carolina to wake up extra early on Saturdays so he could get to Atlanta in time to take me out for some strawberry pancakes. I am the worst!

So when I moved to NYC—the brunch capital of the world—I knew I was in for a treat. I was also in for some real sticker shock. Really, $16 for eggs benedict? I’d better be getting unlimited mimosas for that.

But last weekend I discovered that my Whole Foods has a little restaurant on the 2nd floor with an incredible and cheap (!) brunch. I helped myself to their eggs benedict, which was bomb and only like $7.

This weekend though, I had a radical notion—why not make my own brunch?? And so I did. I made some french toast and turkey bacon, using my Daddy’s french toast recipe. No old ladies or greasy forks—just YUM!