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You know how Indian women have thick hair - all jet black and glossy and redolent with the heady scent of coconuts?
Yeah. That ain't me, boss. My hair is thin (thanks to a one-two punch of genetics and medication), prone to frizzing out and because I live in a place where the humidity index is stuck at: "It feels like breathing chowder" - it gets greasy real quick.
Dry Shampoo has become A Thing and like most people, I was all about the Batiste until I discovered Sun Bum.
It doesn't make your hair super dry (looking at you, Aussie), it doesn't leave a sticky residue and it smells like banana candy. They also make a kickass sunscreen, 3-in-1 leave in treatment and lip balm, so you know - just buy all of their stuff. It's good, it's local-ish (Cocoa Beach represent!) and I love it.
Trust the girl who isn't getting paid to tell you this shit.
Step 1: Discover Baz Luhrmann is on Twitter. Gasp.
Step 2: Discover Moulin Rouge opens on Broadway on June 28. Gasp louder.
Step 3: Fire off entirely too excited text to John about how it's been way too long since we visited New York and that this would be AMAZING....even though he hates musicals.
Step 4: Immediately start researching how far Indian Accent is from the Al Hirschfield Theater. It's less than a mile and they have roomali roti pancakes. SOLD.
I was eighteen when the movie came out and I never got over my love of Luhrmann's lush, hyperkinetic and music-drenched world building. Hopefully now, I'll get to see it onstage....with bagels and schmear the next morning.
I repeat the phrase, "Holy shit, I am so glad I'm not in high school now," like, seven times during each episode. High school wasn't hard when I was a teenager - I just thought it was because my critical thinking skills hadn't fully developed. Now, it is a fucking minefield and I have no goddamn idea how teenagers do it. There is just so much information and so much connectivity and so little time.
Teenagers of America - how do y'all even breathe?
Euphoria is beautifully shot, features an Emmy-worthy performance from Zendaya and will alternately scare the shit out of you, inspire you and encourage some serious conversation which is kinda the point of art in the first place.
I knew the man in the same way a majority of us did - through his shows and books, but I still miss Anthony Bourdain. I ache at his loss and marvel at the fact that I was lucky enough to exist in a world with him. Erin Alexander is one of my favorite food writers and this piece tugs at my heart something fierce.
“Tharoor’s speech reminded me of the time my grandfather was sitting in a park in suburban London. An elderly British man came up to him and wagged a finger at him. “Why are you here?” the man demanded. “Why are you in my country?”
“We are the creditors,” responded my grandfather, who was born in India, spent his working years in Kenya, and was now retired in London. “You took all our wealth, our diamonds. Now we have come to collect.”
I was born in England to a mother born in India and a father born in East Africa. This one hit home hard.
Being a vegetarian, I do not fucks with wings. This is a tragedy for everyone except the chickens. Wings are all of my favorite things - crunchy, spicy, bite-size and they come with condiments. I love a good condiment.
Gobi Manchurian is basically wings for vegetarians but better. They're the crispiest, crunchiest fried cauliflower you've ever eaten and they're served tossed in a deliciously sticky General Tso-esque sauce with bell peppers, onions and scallions.
It is the best Indian restaurant appetizer.
Yes. They're better than samosas because the only person who knows how to make good samosas is Mom and Mom doesn't work in every Indian restaurant I've ever gone to.
My dream is to open up a restaurant that does fried cauliflower in a bunch of different sauces - Manchurian, buffalo, BBQ, honey mustard. Like a vegan wing shack. I'd call it Genghis Khan's...until I remembered that dude was a genocidal maniac and then, I'd end up calling it the Brassica Brasserie or something.
God, how have I not Shark Tanked the shit out of this already?
Holy Shit, I Love You
Indiana has discovered mangoes. His heritage might be German (German Shepherd + Great Dane + Mastiff) but the way he devours mangoes? My boy is definitely Indian.
This Dolly Parton tweet.