Frozen Fridays: Rhubarb Sorbet

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blogger: Basia

I’m going to tell you a story.

Once upon a time, I was a frazzled college senior working feverishly on her senior creative thesis. It consumed most of my life until the end of April, when I finally turned it into the Creative Writing department, heaved a huge sigh of relief, and had some tea to celebrate. My thesis advisor, an awesome lady who was really supportive of my left-of-center idea (we won’t get into it here, but think Twin Peaks meets Night Vale), said she wanted to take me out to lunch to celebrate my thesis finally being complete! Because I had class on the day she scheduled our lunch, we ate locally, near the English building, so I could dash off to class as soon as we were finished. So we hit up the White Dog, because that’s where you go on Sansom Street when you want good food and want to feel classy.

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Frozen Fridays: Mouse’s Chocolates & Coffee

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blogger: Connor

My family went on a nice, breathe-the-mountain air vacation the other week. This involved seventeen hours of travel as we moved from our Philadelphia twin (that’s like a two or three-story duplex to y’all who aren’t from these parts) to our friend’s house in Ouray, Colorado (elevation: 7,792 ft). The twists and turns of what made that trip seventeen hours are another story entirely. The point here, though, is that Mouse’s has the best cookie dough ice cream I’ve ever had.

And if there’s one flavor for which I could be named connoisseur, it’s cookie dough.

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Curly Hair Gothic

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bloggers: Basia & Connor

You condition every day. You condition more times than you can count.

“My hair has a mind of its own,” you say. People laugh. They think you are joking. You are not joking. Your hair laughs, too.

You cannot remember the last time you washed your hair. It might have been the last full moon. For some reason, you can’t recall.

Someone asks if you have a brush. The word seems familiar, like a distant memory, but you can’t quite remember what it means.

“Comb? You mean, looking for seashells on the beach?”

You pull your hair up and reach into your bag for a bobby pin. You swear you bought a full pack yesterday, but somehow they have all disappeared.

This is not unusual to you.

You buy another pack.

You have to buy another one tomorrow.

You try every product that exists. None of them work. You think you’ve found one that works, but then it is discontinued. You are no longer sure it even existed to begin with.

Someone tells you your hair looks great today. Your hair grows ten sizes. “Thank you,” you say, stiffly. Your hair prickles the back of your neck. You force a smile. “I love my hair.”

There is always frizz. You have forgotten what it is like to live without frizz. The weather, the day, the year all change, but the frizz remains. There is always frizz.

You pull a hair off of a friend’s jacket. It is yours. It is always yours. All of your friends are covered in layers of your hair. It has always been this way.

You pull clumps of your own hair out of the shower drain, yet every day, you seem to have more hair than the day before.

You purchase every anti-frizz product at every drugstore. You can never find them after you pay for them.

Someone with straight hair tells you they wish they had your hair. “No,” you intone, while your hair rustles and grows menacingly. “You don’t.”

You finally manage to straighten your hair. It has taken hours. You cannot remember doing anything else. Perhaps you never have. You step outside. It is as if you never straightened your hair at all. Perhaps you never did.

Everyone you see with curly hair has better hair than yours. When you spot each other, you look at each other and say only, “Hair envy,” before moving on.

You ask everyone how they manage their curls. Everyone answers differently. Everyone says the same thing. You cannot recall asking anyone, but you know with certainty you have asked everyone.

Frozen Fridays: Scoop DeVille

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blogger: Basia

I literally just finished reading an article on the best ice cream places in Philly, and I was completely appalled not to find this place on there. This is an ice cream experience like nothing you’ve ever seen before. You know how at Cold Stone Creamery they literally slap your ice cream onto, well, a cold stone and mix your extras in? (I’m not calling them toppings because they’re not on top.) Scoop DeVille, located at Walnut and 13th Streets, takes that to the next level.

They blend them in.

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Frozen Fridays: Bubble Tea

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blogger: Connor

It is a truth universally acknowledged that bubble tea is, in fact, amazing. When Basia and I were hanging out and plotting the next steps of this website the other week (as we are wont to do), we picked up some bubble tea to finish our afternoon. Being avid tea drinkers, bubble tea is one of our favorite summer treats (or, if you’re me, year round. Probably.). You can imagine her excitement when I asked her if I could write about frozen bubble tea for this week’s Frozen Friday. THAT EXISTS?!?!! she texted me, frantic. To which I responded with a smirking emoji and a “Yes. Yes, it does.”

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Frozen Fridays: Mochi in University City

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blogger: Basia

On Tuesday, I ventured down to University City to meet up with Connor. The plan was to make use of $5.50 movie day (we saw Trainwreck, which wasn’t nearly as funny as Spy, which made both of us need our inhalers, but still funny) and then go out for margaritas and tacos. Unfortunately, margaritas didn’t happen, because the place where we’d planned to go get them didn’t open until 5pm. Normally, we’d just walk to somewhere else in the city, but we’ve been under a heat advisory all week and didn’t feel like passing out. Luckily, we’d had sushi for lunch, which meant one of my favorite desserts: mochi.

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