OK, so I am waiting for my flight to Chicago in the new JetBlue terminal. I have to tell you that the JetBlue terminal might be better than flying business class. It just is impossibly fabulous. They have REAL food, like this Roman Pizza situation and Boar’s Head and a bar, with Grey Goose! I feel like I’m hanging out in a hip coffee shop in London or something; everything is so shiny. Speaking of shiny, I’m kind of thinking that I’ve found the new perfect housewife for the Real Housewives of NYC.
I have been eyeing rock star for awhile now from my perch up here in the free wifi land of JetBlue. Little Miss has a diamond the size of Texarkana, hair pulled high and tight in a knot, big Chanel sunglasses on her head, of course teeeeenyyyy tinnnnnny legs and black boots (the whole damn city has those tiny legs and boots), another sapphire and diamond number on the right hand while she talks on her iPhone. Of course she does. She looks like a commercial. Oh wait, here comes the husband. Tall, blond and handsome. Of course he is. She is tan and they are probably en route to Aruba. She is in all black with this fitted little khaki jacket. I’m so glad that I finally know now who actually looks good in that color because Lord knows it isn’t me.
I’m munching my Dunkin’ Donut (double chocolate). Can’t resist. I am so damn hungry and I just don’t understand how. The segment that taped just before mine today featured the nutritionist from The Biggest Loser and showed “an entire day’s worth of food.” Let me tell you, that spread wouldn’t have lasted me fifteen minutes. I mean I am sure it tasted great, the food stylist was the skinniest nicest person ever, and had a lot of pride in the whole situation. Because of all of that healthiness I had a salmon salad, dressing on the side for lunch. Useless. I made it a whole 60 minutes before I was in the Dunkin’ Donuts line. Then some derelict decided that it would be a good idea to put CALORIES ON THE DONUTS. Who thought that was a good idea? Seriously? I mean if you’re going to eat a donut, do you think it’s going to be a smart thing to do? Of course not. I just didn’t know that it was going to cost me a whole 340 calories. I don’t care. I am sleep deprived and over it.
Bottom line: JetBlue, if you’re listening, I love you, everything’s perfect over here, just ditch the calorie counts, seriously. Adios Amigos!
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