Facebook Status Updates, or, Why Everyone on the Internet Seems Happier Than You

by Molly C.H.K.

Mexican yellow cherries make quite a nice Manhattan. There’s a slight bitterness that takes the place of the dry vermouth!

I really need a drink. I could make Manhattans, but I don’t have cherries. OK, I’ll pop into the bodega, they have to have — what are these, yellow cherries? God, they look like pickled eyeballs. It’s fine. Just plop them in there, oh Christ is that a crack in the jar? Yes, and now I have eyeball syrup all over my counter.

Fresh flowers and locally sourced greenery! Just the thing for a drizzly evening.

Oh, look at the sunflowers! They look so much happier than I am; I should get some. Wait, they don’t come with leaves or whatever? I guess could pick some of the weeds growing out of the abandoned part of my block that’s probably filled with industrial chemicals. They basically look like ferns, right? Just snap them off at the base — no, snap. No, not uproot them and get toxic mud all over my pants. It’s starting to rain again, isn’t it?

A good book and a champagne cocktail on the roof. The skyline is lovely!

It has to be literally a hundred and forty-seven degrees in this apartment. I have a bag of ice in my bra and I’m still hot. I bet there’s a breeze on the roof, though. Before I go up, I’ll grab a glass of cava. Mmm … holy god, this is terrible. Why do I keep buying eight-dollar sparklers? Spending just three more dollars would — aah, too late, I’ll just dump some bitters and sugar in it. Up the stairs! Aaand somebody spray painted boobs all over the place.

Making fennel and celeriac soup for dinner. What odd looking vegetables to be so delicious!

Haha I haven’t cooked in months, what am I even thinking. Just start peeling this vegetable-thing — fuck! Is it unhygienic to get blood in your soup? Don’t worry about it, it’s getting boiled or simmered or whatever. Now purée — shit, this is going to take like five batches. Pour it into a bowl. OK, wash a bowl and then pour it in. It tastes — well, it kind of tastes like runny mashed potatoes. Here, I’ll pour some absinthe in there, nobody’s going to know it’s not the fennel?

I made homemade rhubarb syrup! Rhubarb daisy: Greylock gin, fresh lemon, rhubarb syrup, top with soda. Mmm!

Ooh, rhubarb! I’ll get it and make some of that fancy syrup. And now it’s simmering! What a gorgeous color, this is going to be so great. What’s the next step, “strain syrup through cheesecloth.” Cheesecloth? What, who even has that? I have a cheese grater, will that work? Yesss. No! Why are all these bits coming through? What about those nylon knee socks I bought instead of pantyhose by accident and never wore. OK. I’m going to strain the syrup through a cheese grater and then through nylons. It’s fine. It’s going to be so great.

Molly C.H.K. lives in Brooklyn. When she is not writing, drinking, or stealing sidewalk weeds, she is a scientist.