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Who told me it would be a good idea to join a Greek letter society? And why is it my favorite thing to do? Not only did I get initiated, I’m the secretary next semester. I guess everyone just wants to be liked. I had my whole life to be nerdy and unpopular; it’s a paranoid psychosis that will never subside, I think. My life is so different than I expected. But I feel that it’s different in beautiful and expansive ways. I can do anything now. I wish I didn’t have to work at clubs to pay off my bills, but it’s a temporary setback. I’m glad I took the steps–and if you think about it, applying to Columbia abruptly is as drastic a step as moving to New York abruptly–to paint a bigger picture for my life and get out of that retail/club cycle. filed under: misc | comments: 3 comments |
“A Mimosa is a cocktail composed of three parts champagne and two parts thoroughly chilled orange juice, traditionally served in a tall champagne flute with a morning brunch. It is also often served to early guests at weddings, and in first class on jet airliners. Grenadine and a cherry can be added for extra color. The Mimosa cocktail was reportedly invented at the Ritz Hotel in Paris, France circa 1925. Orangina or a tablespoon of Grand Marnier (technically a Grand Mimosa) are sometimes added. A similar (and often identical) British cocktail is called a bucks fizz. In a variation of this cocktail, called a Hibiscus (or a Poinsettia), cranberry juice replaces orange juice. In another variation, called a Lilosa, pink grapefruit juice replaces orange juice. Yet another is the Manmosa which uses Miller High Life instead of champagne. In the movie Rat Race the characters Vera Baker and Merill Jennings (who are played by Whoopi Goldberg and Lanei Chapman) are ordering a Mimosa when they first meet.” An ad in The New Yorker says that champagne isn’t champagne if it’s not from Champagne. I’m pretty sure the three or four bottles of cheap champagne I had Saturday night were not from Champage, but they had the effect of champagne in that the way that that other tricky-gn, bologna, never can. Is bologna not bologna if it’s not from Bologna? As for mimosas, nothing speaks of trashy Sunday morning hangover cures like a little OJ added to the mix. Four or five or six. Voilà, pain is gone. filed under: misc | comments: 2 comments |
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