calabazamía

My grandma is telling me about her Forever 21 haul.

She’s describing to me where the Forever 21 is in the mall: “Aah bte3rafi wen kan il Merfys honak? Ah. Mish fo2. Ta7it. Fo2 fi kotob o ma kotob. Ta7et. Il musiqa 3alyeh.”

Translation: “Yeah, you know where the Mervyns was a long time ago? Yes. Not upstairs. Downstairs. Upstairs is books or something. Downstairs. The music is really loud in there.”

This is not an interesting post:

This is a post that I’m typing about food and money. These are the things that I think about most in my life.

I generally avoid going to Central Market because every time I go, I end up purchasing many more tens of dollars worth of things (what is this sentence structure?) than I can really afford. But alas, sometimes your recipe calls for organic blackstrap molasses or fresh pasta and you just have to suck it up and brace yourself.

This happened to me this week.

Here’s what I bought:

• A honeydew
• Guavas
• Cherries (these were 8 bucks by themselves. efff.)
• Blueberries
• Molasses
• Pasta
• 2 muffins (pear and crystallized ginger, strawberry and goat cheese. yes.)
• Some fish fillets
• Apple cider vinegar

Not much right? $70 IS HOW MUCH.

Anyways, as overpriced as I think the place is, my fruit is so delectable that I’m finding it hard to be upset. My honeydew is sugar sweet, my cherries are the perfect combo of sweet and tangy, my guavas are dripping with sweetness. And that molasses was damn good.

I was trying to save some for my parents’ visit this weekend but I’m about out of honeydew and cherries and it looks like I’m going to have to go shopping again.

Oh, no. But. I. Can’t.

"In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt."

My parents brought me their spare mattress last time they visited

My old one was about 20 years old.

I finally got around to switching them today (a rough job to do all alone) and OHMYGAWD. I already never want to leave my bed and this is a disaster.