Internet, I’m back into Ice Breakers chewing gum!

Have these been around this whole time? I stopped noticing them years ago; maybe I didn’t want to be the one child left behind during the formidable flat-pack gum movement. Who cares? My mouth is really fresh right now. It has been at LEAST three minutes. Two more before the “ice” “liquidates” into a puddle I won’t notice until the next commercial break.

Whoa. Maybe everything I want has been right on the candy rack this whole time.

Ha! Not even. Brachs Villa Cherries were discontinued in 2003. Take that, breakthrough.

Speaking of 7-11, I should probably post Summer 2006’s “Still Obsessed with 7-Eleven” pic. There I am in early June, attractively posing in an elevator with a taquito and a Big Gulp. I don’t know why more people don’t leave comments on my blog that say “You are too classy, Annie Barrett!” That’s all I want, in addition to the chips, Slurpees, and processed pastry products that made up my diet for most of June. I made it “my thing.” I’d only eat at 7-Eleven. I thought I was being thrifty and humorous. I bragged about it to everyone who would listen. Pay attention to me! I’m so wacky, eating only foods from a convenience store. I’m killing myself! It’s hilarious!

This was Summer 2005’s “Still Obsessed…” shot. I’m glad I’ve been using these “transition” years in New York City to blossom into a fabulous five-year-old who can’t manage to take a picture involving snacks (or iconography suggestive of snacks) that doesn’t call to mind the sound, “Wheeeeee!”

Next year I won’t deign to pose for the pic. I’ll get someone else to do it, then Photoshop my goofy mug onto him or her. It’ll look the same anyway.

This summer alone, I’ve eaten my way through what I estimate to be around 30% of 7-Eleven’s merchandise. I don’t mean total sales, I mean total selection. I’ve picked up at least one of 30% of the items for sale, every single one of which has been heavily processed and encased in a wrapper.

My two loves, together at last: behold the Entenmann’s display at 7-Eleven. Who is sleeping with whom here? Corporate Bear, have you been matchmaking again? These shelves take up easily 20% of the tiny store. Obviously, I can’t complain. It’s just funny.

Also: what’s with Entenmann’s getting all snacky on us lately? It used to be huge displays of the “committment pastries” like entire cakes and danishes. Now, after Entenmann’s’ apparent merger with the 7-Eleven corporation, it’s all about the quick fix. I love me a snack, but I prefer Entenmann’s boxed items to their wrapped ones. I don’t want a crappy single serving of a “Honeybun.” Give me a banana crunch chocolate chip cake, served in an expansive box that contains enough wiggle room for the fork I’ll be leaving in there all week. (No sense in washing it if I’m working on a bite-to-bite basis.)

Hip Tip for the day: Entenmann’s chocolate frosted donuts taste even more amazing…. refrigerated.

Ted Allen would probably murder me if he knew I just used his trademark “Hip Tips” segment to promote processed foods.

Now this site’ll come up when people Google search Ted Allen! Ted Allen Ted Allen Ted Allen. Ha! Does anyone Google Ted Allen? I would. I would google Ted Allen.

Last week, I got a haircut at The Beach on Christopher Street. I am so cool! I live in the West Village!

Anyway, my illustrious stylist Thom ran across the street during my appointment to get these cheesy, bready “puffs” he kept talking about. “It’s like bread… and oil… and spices… oh, and obviously cheese!” he kept sputtering. Obviously. Curious as all hell but also in shock that there existed a trend in snacking of which I was not yet aware, I just glared at him and asked what he was talking about. It was a combination of shame and intense interest. I must have had an “Enlighten me. Now. I’m hungry.” death stare going on because when I looked up, he was gone.

We have a cute relationship like that. Last time, I bought him a peanut butter-chocolate bar from the Polka Dot Cake Studio after he opined, mid-foil, that there was nothing in the world better than a Reese’s. Until I discovered this bar, I might have agreed with him (as evidenced by my favorite poster), but I couldn’t let him go on living in a massive delusion and so delivered a bar to him promptly. His bringning me a cheesy puff must have been payback for that.

The puffs came from Pai Pao, across the street from the salon. Here’s a pic from inside:

Thom declared the puff ‘’this year’s Magnolia cupcake” and I already agree. Plus, the store staff doesn’t try to intimidate you with What the fuck are you doing in our bakery? looks, so that’s a perk. The puffs are small in stature so it’s like you’re eating less; plus, you get to feel like a giant. Wait, I already feel like a giant. Hmm. Then, a really thin and beautiful giant, with amazing hair, who’s stuffing fried cheese into her mouth because it’s suddenly trendy. Hooray.

Five puffs cost only $3.50. You could make them a meal, unless you’re really hungry, a big pig, or me. Here’s a cross-section of the NY Cheddar. It looks sort of disgusting, which is why I don’t get how it can be so good. Then again, a big platter of nacho soup (when there aren’t any more chips and the main course has yet to arrive) looks really gross, too, and clearly it’s amazing.

I was eating my puffs on the Christopher Street pier, and within eyeshot was this incredibly lame photo shoot:

What was this for? My guess is the J. Crew catalogue or some high-society magazine. WASP Weekly, perhaps. I still don’t get why they wanted the Hoboken skyline in the background or why they couldn’t have waited for a sunny day. I was intrigued by what sort of fake food could have been in their picnic basket, but I didn’t have the courage to ask. Models are so much cooler than me!

Loving: 99-cent 2-liters of Coke Zero
Hating: entire Thai food lunch special that I just knocked onto the floor

The Rold Gold Honey Mustard Tiny Twists taste alarmingly like honey mustard for the first entire second of eating; then for the rest of the chews they just taste like regular pretzels. I pronounced this out loud at work and had to extend the challenge to a few naysayers who thought I was full of it. Of course, they ended up marvelling at my precision. “You should be a professional taste-tester,” said someone I don’t really know. “Oh, I am,” I replied, solemnly. “What?” “Yeah, it’s my day job,” I said. He stared. I stared, with the trademark Annie Barrett “What. Stop looking at me” face. Then he slowly backed away. That’s right. No more pretzels for you.

This weekend I walked around for a total of about eight hours. Everyone was outside, all excited that it was “warm.” It was maybe 45 degrees during peak hours. Anyway, on Saturday, the Zach Attack and I headed out to the piers with coffee. I thought my face got a little color, which Zach callously threw down as just a “raging case of windburn, if that.” Thanks.

At 3 p.m. amidst all the wind and warmth, there was really no other option than to co-host an impromptu beerbeque (sans any sort of meat, so just… beer) on my roof. Check it out.

Note the obligatory feather boa with its own chair. Here’s the view northward, and eastward. Oh no! I’ve become “that New Yorker.”

And Dee! Look what else made it up there! Nothing goes better with Sierra Nevada special-edition “Celebration” ale than Kirschbaum’s tea cookies. And ridiculously strong barbeque chips. And… salsa. I think these rancid chips burned a sizable hole in my stomach lining. To prevent permanent damage, I made sure to coat the area with a thick, steady stream of alcohol the rest of the night. I call it “Safe Drinking.”

I had to watch “The One That Got Away” on NBC tonight. Six fake-blonde bimbos and one token Asian woman (who actually won!) fighting for some dipshit, muscular North Carolina “professional bartender.” Shoot me.

I just used “dipshit” as an adjective. You saw it here first!

My spirits lifted, though, when I decided to take a midnight stroll through the rain and go school supply shopping at Walgreen’s for no reason. This is a great thing to do when you have very little personal income and/or motivation. Check out this amazing shit I got:

Four glittery hologram pencils and a JUNK FOOD Lisa Frank folder! I feel like I’m in fifth grade again. I can’t believe they’re still selling stuff that looks like this. What are they thinking? What were they ever thinking? I love it!

I’ve always been obsessed with school supplies. I loved organizing my desk and then opening it at inopportune times to admire my perfectly aligned, color-coordinated materials. I always thought mine were the best in the class. I actually remember my fourth grade teacher having to repeat “Annie, desk down!” over and over. In fifth grade, Kara and I carried around these plastic boxes full of purple and turquoise “Wavelength” pens, mechanical pencils, white-out, and chapstick. We decorated them with stickers and personal messages which could be whited-out at any time. We used to say “I keep my things in a box” in a weird, old-person’s voice which, looking back, was really strange. Those boxes were great, though. We definitely started the trend. The nerdier girls started getting them too, at which point we got pissed. We should have been flattered.

During high school I was all about the solid color notebooks, because Lisa Frank was childish and I was “cool.” I still looked at the neon folders longingly in Office Max, but knew I couldn’t pull it off. I probably begged my sister to get them just so I could look at them at home. But now, I’ve decided that crap like this is suddenly acceptable again (and can’t believe I ever censored my free will). I literally stood there grinning for like 30 seconds after I saw this folder. I just couldn’t believe it.

One of the pencils says “WHATEVER!” in block letters, and there is a can of “POP” on the folder. Both of these features perfectly reflect my personal lifestyle. Finally, I am motivated.

I just read that over and realized that when I see the name “Lisa Frank,” for some reason I imagine Lisa from Six Feet Under sitting there designing these folders and notebooks. Which would never happen, because she’s vegan. And now deceased. But still. I cannot wait for the new season to begin. I just finished the last episode on On Demand last night. That means I’ve now seen each of the episodes four times. Oh, and if anyone wants to get up to speed, I’m willing to watch them all again.