Good morning, dear
Jillian Anthony is a California girl in New York—writing, reading, seeing, eating, drinking, and obsessing about things.
Good morning, dear
Saw this goodie at the airport. Wanted to ask the cashier whether any Obama birth truthers had ever raged at him about it, but I resisted the urge.
Janthony drunk impersonating Beyoncé on Valentines Day is my favorite kind of Janthony. This is my mother, and she’s amazing.
Forever alone, forever reblog
This year, I woke up in a Hawaiian hotel room with my sister sleeping next to me, then I wandered over to my mom’s hotel room to cuddle and have coffee and talk about where we want to travel together. Best Valentine’s Day in a couple of years.
Happy Valentine’s Day! I’m a happy girl.
Correspondence from snowy NYC
I found my happy place and it’s very far away from New York
It took me 20 hours and my bag didn’t arrive when I did but by God I made it to this island paradise.
Mom and I instantly settled into mojitos on the beach, me wrapped in one of her sarongs because all of my bathing suits are with said missing bag.
Me: “I’m kind of fat right now.”
Mom: “That’s just your winter layer.”
“But don’t you ever want a good, old-fashioned cheesecake?”
“No, do you?” he asked, as if I had suggested dropping bath salts at a rave.
“Actually,” I leaned in, “when I need a fix, I have seven-layer cake shipped in from the Five Towns.”
“I wouldn’t do that. Just like people used to frown on smoking, now they frown on bad eating,” he advised, giving me the tour of the planted terrace replete with Palladian-style French doors that some lucky highflier would soon inhabit.
I marveled over the kitchen.
“Yes, it has everything … and even a wine cellar,” he said, listing the latest top-of-the-line appliances and luxuries.
“For the dinner parties where no one eats anything,” I joked.
“If they’re smart,” he said seriously.