smells like poor

one time in college a new lady and i were discussing childhood tales when somehow the conversation lead to bubble baths. we talked about favorite toys in the tub (my little pony mermaid, what what!), games we liked to play (pretending to be a my little pony mermaid, what what!), the time i dumped everything in the tub (including bengay) and then held my privates under cold running water ( screaming “my china is on fire! china on fire!”), when i then mentioned that whenever we ran out of bubble bath.. we would just throw in some Dawn or Joy dish detergent to make bubbles. to this my new bestie replied “smells like poor” completely deadpan and walked away to the keg.

this story has absolutely nothing to do with this blog posting except that, unlike when i kept it real and used dish detergent instead of mr bubbles, today i actually am poor. its official. all the signs are there. want to know how i can tell. simply by a glance into my cabinet. sure, i just moved into a new apartment and the kitchen isnt stocked, but peering into my new cabinet yesterday was like looking into a reunion of my favorite starving artist comrades.

no no no, i dont embrace poverty with ramen noodles and canned soup. thats how i embrace diets. these are my old faithfuls:

images nutella

my first month in new york,  i was S to the T to the RUGGLING. my bedroom consisted of a deflated air mattress folded in half on top of an area rug, a tiny lamp and a lot of sweet potatoes. when money ran out it was just about the same time that nutella put little plastic bags on everyones door in my apt building with two small samples of nutella in each. dontcha know i snuck thru my building in the shield of night and stole every sample.. then ate that on a  piece of bread for two days..

the following summer when i lived in queens and tried every kind of job from selling comedy tickets in times square (“do you like comedy? great would you like to come see some tonig… oh ok, well have a nice day”) to nannying in the hamptons (that lasted a whopping two weekends. me and the little girl played soccer, she named her team the wildcats, and then name mine the sad dead kittens) and even recruiting corporations to pay for their lady employees to learn poker thru a biz named PokerDivas. through these two months i was scraping by and had a lot of trader joe’s $2 buck chuck chardonnay for dinner.

yesterday i looked in my cabinet and these were the only two items there.

**oh i can also tell im poor when i just use my boyfriends head and shoulders two in one for shampoo and conditioner for 3 weeks.

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