JessicaRulestheUniverse.com

Turning legal.

Volume 2 is two decades overdue.

It starts with “You are talking about me as if I’m not here, and as if I’m an extraterrestrial.” Moves on to “Is this what you all do for a living?”

He puts up with their rudeness and condescension until 6:00, then he tears them new ones.

“Stop saying ‘he’, I’m present. What’s wrong with your manners? Look beyond the superficial! That’s the problem with current affairs, you forget about what’s important, you allow the agenda to be decided by superficial information. What am I saying? What am I talking about? Don’t talk about what I’m wearing, these things are redundant. What do you think that gesture means, the way you’re touching that bottle? What does that indicate? What’s the subtext of that?…She’s a shaft-grasper.”

Thank you, Mr. Brand.

IF AT THE WEDDING (AT THE ZOO)
by Lydia Davis

If we hadn’t stopped on our way to the ceremony to look at the pen of black pigs, we wouldn’t have seen the very large pig lunge at the smaller one, to force him away from the feeding trough.
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Wendi Deng, Weibo heroine

Mainly we want to know how much she’s going to get so we can be appalled (and some lazy headline writer can write, “Dang, Wendi”.)

That is assuming that we are sane to begin with. Or that anyone is sane. We have serious doubts about the concept of normal.

Also, we did not have to stand in the long taxi queue (about 30 taxis’ worth of passengers) at the mall for four hours. We had options.

A. We could’ve walked home. We do this all the time. We like walking! It takes ten minutes. But we were wearing a long, wide skirt and for some reason we could not bear to get the hem wet. Why this was unbearable we don’t know, it wasn’t as if we had to wash it ourselves. We’ve learned that it is pointless to try and figure out why we do what we do. We are completely at the mercy of our brain.

B. We could’ve gone back inside the mall, lingered over coffee/drinks or watched a movie, and emerged two hours later when the queue would presumably be shorter. But we’d just had coffee. We don’t drink alone, it’s sad. And our only movie options were Man of Steel and After Earth.

We enjoyed Man of Steel but didn’t feel like watching it again. Not that we don’t find Henry Cavill adorable. (Have you seen I Conquer the Castle with Romola Garai and Bill Nighy? He was half his present mass and already adorable.)
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The first couple of times we went to Wildflour we weren’t impressed: we found the prices too high, the acoustics terrible, and the food fairly ordinary. But our friends kept wanting to meet at Wildflour, and after several visits we have grown to like it. They do have the best bread in the city.

At their branch in Podium they offer a pastry board: you can choose any four pastries for Php400. We picked (from bottom to top) the dulce de leche—a pastry filled with same and topped with chocolate, the old reliable sticky bun, the Nutella and banana danish, and the vanilla cronut.

Yes, the cronut, invented (and trademarked, oops) by Dominique Ansel in New York.

This mutant pastry, half-croissant and half-doughnut, is deep-fried, rolled in sugar, filled with cream, and glazed. Do not eat it by yourself! It is pure evil. Bring two friends and spread the guilt. And then skip dinner.