Shi wanted to have dinner at Pho Cali tonight to ease her sore throat. It seems like everyone has been getting sick lately!
We met up with Jay, Leah, Charlene and Sha at Babycakes for dessert. As former ASB president, Leah’s been trying to get me to go to our ten year reunion this weekend. But I left high school where I left my crush on Jordan Catalano—in the 90s where it belongs. Why get all dolled up to make small talk with old classmates at the Marriott when I can sit at home in my chones and read their Facebook statuses on my news feed instead?
(I’m kidding. I totally block their status updates.)
P.S. If you don’t know who Jordan Catalano is, then you are too young and I am too old.
I’ve made cupcakes for a few of Kristin’s parties, so she asked me to make a Hello Kitty cake for her niece’s birthday. I can make cupcakes in my sleep, but I’ve never actually baked and decorated an entire cake before. I decided to make a practice cake first, just in case I was in over my head.
Isn’t this a pretty kitty? (That’s what she said.) Too bad this cake won’t stay fresh till next weekend! I’ll have to make another one on Friday, and now I’m left with a Hello Kitty cake that I’m not going to eat… How weird would it be if I showed up at my uncle’s retirement party with this thing?
You make me come
You make me complete
You make me completely miserable
I heard this song on the way to the gym this morning, and it reminded me of high school. I’m not sure what’s more shocking—that this song came out over ten years ago, or that I went to the gym this morning?
Anthony suggested that we all meet up for weekly happy hours till the end of summer (he also suggested that we play glow-in-the-dark bingo, but that’s a story for another time). Chel, Shi and I had our first happy hour at El Camino in South Park tonight (while Antho was out of town, of course). Sangria always tastes better when it’s served in a glass boot!
Pammie and I were given free tickets to Comic-Con on Sunday. I knew I was out of place when I looked up at the big screen and thought out loud, "What movie is this?" and some dude looked at me like I was crazy and said, "It’s Return of the Jedi!" I’m pretty sure I was the only one within a 10-mile radius who hadn’t seen a single Star Wars movie.
While I was at the Iron Man booth, Pammie ran up to me and said, "Guess who’s here?!?!?" And I was like, "Robert Downey Jr?!?" And she was like, "Kevin from the Jabbawockeez!" I mean…!
As we waited in line for the panels, the girl with the Fringe tote in front of us said, "Too bad you guys got the sucky Vampire Diaries themed tote bags!" Um. We totally traded a small child and an old man our original Batman bags for these “sucky” Vampire Diaries bags! LOL.
We missed the Glee panel, but we were able to get into Sons of Anarchy. OH. MY. JAX. He is officially in my Freebie Five!
Jay has a tendency to turn his birthday into a month-long extravaganza, but this year he only subjected us to two outings (shocking!). The girls and I are notorious for disappearing during his birthday celebrations every year, and he’ll never let us forget the time we left in the middle of his party for frozen yogurt at Yogotango. Or dinner at Friday’s. Or dinner at The Spot. This year was no different.
This Irish Angel (chocolate cake layered with Bailey’s creme brulee) was totally worth the shit Jay’s going to give us for leaving The Office again this year when he sees the pictures we took of us eating at Heaven Sent Desserts on his camera 😉
While vacationing in NYC years ago, I managed to get myself and Pammie lost in the city. We got off the train when I realized we were going the wrong way and found ourselves alone with Milo Ventimiglia at an otherwise empty subway stop. Seeing him in person was like hearing the Beatles for the first time, and I was rendered speechless. I got on the subway without asking him to father my children, and it has been my #3 regret in life ever since (don’t ask me what the first two are—I’m taking them to my grave!).
I loved taking the subway everywhere, and I die a little each minute I’m sitting in traffic at home in California. In memory of my trip, I’ve made some NYC-inspired magnets, complete with my old maps that got us lost in the city. Hopefully they will be of more use to you on your fridge than they were for me in New York! You can buy them here.
We all played a round of Catch Phrase at Anthony’s before the movie last night. When it was my sister’s fiance’s turn, the clue that he gave us was, “This is what I am.” He’s a big guy, so people were like, ummm… ummm… and I turned to Anthony and was like, “OMG. Nobody wants to say it!” and Anthony blurts out, “One of a kind!” LOL.
Pat Sajak: The category is People Who Annoy You. Randy: Uh… Well, uh… Pat Sajak: Ten seconds, Mr. Marsh. Randy: I know it but I don’t think I should say it. Pat Sajak: Five seconds, Mr. Marsh. Randy: Oh all right uh, I’d like to solve the puzzle! Niggers! Stan: Oooo. Randy: Oh naggers. Of course, naggers. Right. Pat Sajak: Uhh, can we cut to a… Can we cut to a…
Inception was AMAZING. It’s def the best movie I’ve seen so far in 2010. Granted, the list of movies I’ve seen this year include Eclipse and Dear John, but don’t let that cheapen its awesomeness (or your view of me as a person). Go watch it!
Whenever there’s a potluck, I usually bake cupcakes, but it’s not something I enjoy eating all that much. Anthony invited us over for a potluck dinner tonight, so I thought I’d go a different route and make something I’d actually eat. I’m no cook by any stretch of the imagination, but bacon-wrapped jalapeño cream cheese poppers seemed simple enough.
I’ve eaten jalapeños on nachos, burgers, sushi… but I’ve never handled a raw jalapeño before, let alone thirty of them. And now I’ve got jalapeño burn! I didn’t even know that existed until I googled, “how do I get my hands to stop burning after handling jalapenos?” The pain caused from de-seeding the jalapeños with my bare hands feels something akin to shoving bamboo splinters under my finger nails. Ouch!
Seven of my friends and I sat in the theater waiting for the movie to start last weekend, and all seven of them were playing with their iPhones. The only thing I could do on my non-iPhone was check the time. Boo whore. I said what I always say when this happens (which is every time we go out), “My Verizon contract isn’t up till July, you bitches.” Except this time, it WAS July. I mean, where did my life go??? Anyway, I visited the AT&T store the next day and snagged their last iPhone 4G. Yay!
Here’s my first photo taken with my iPhone…
App: Hipstamatic / Lens: John S. / Film: Kodot Verichrome
Chel, Shi, Flex and I ate dessert waffles topped with Nutella, taro ice cream, strawberries and whipped cream at Crepe World tonight. We sat there for an hour or so playing with our iPhones before realizing that we could be doing the same thing at home in our chones. So now I’m blogging this from my iPhone at home. And yes… I’m in my chones.
Sometimes when you look back on a situation, you realize it wasn’t all you thought it was. Someone walked into your life, you fell in love, or did you? Maybe it was only a childish infatuation, or maybe it was a brief moment of insanity.
The BFF told me about Il Postino’s new girlfriend today, and I felt nothing. It’s funny how I always used to find myself running back to him, for some reason, thinking it would work out differently the secondthird fourth fifth time. And now, I can’t think of a single reason why I’d ever want him back.
Prints of this illustration I designed are now available in my Etsy shop for $10! They are 11″ x 17″ and professionally printed by digital press on 100 lb. paper gloss.
Two trips to the fair last week left me with fierce tan lines and an even fiercer waistline. I’m sure my special relationship with bacon last month didn’t help, either. Today’s a new day, though. I don’t have a particular goal in mind… No upcoming wedding to lose three dress sizes for. No birthday party for another ex-boyfriend… A belated attempt to wear a bathing suit in public, perhaps? (I wear my chones around anyone who will let me—is that not the same thing?) I suppose I have to do it for myself this time. Here goes nothing…
How have I not heard about this movie till now? Considering Joseph Gordon Levitt and Leo DiCaprio were both (at one time or another) in my Freebie Five, my vagina could not be more excited.
It’s officially summer, and for the 28th year in a row, I’m not ready for all this sunlight. Thankfully, I’ve moved out of my non air-conditioned apartment that I nearly melted in last year, so I won’t have any sudden urges to punch a baby in this heat. Being healthy isn’t enough motivation to lose weight for me. I entered a biggest loser competition at work last year, lost 20 pounds and won by less than 1% (suck it, Calvin!). And I did it all for just bragging rights and a celebratory croissant. I used to play Bejeweled Blitz religiously on Facebook just because whenever I’d beat someone’s score, it sent them a notification saying, “Booyah! Mayan fucking beat you, bitch.” Okay maybe it didn’t say fucking. Or bitch. Or booyah… but it still notified them, okay? Get off me. I would really like to get fit, so I need someone to compete with. And not someone like Jay who works out once a week while I’m pulling two-a-days… It can’t be that easy. But I want to start after I go to the fair this Sunday. And next Friday. And possibly next Saturday… Let’s just be safe and start this thing when the fair ends after the 4th of July.
Chel’s stepmom threw her a bridal shower this weekend. It wasn’t half as crazy as the bachelorette party, but my aunts still dropped it low with bananas tied around their waists (is it just my dirty family, or do most of the games at your family parties involve bananas, too?). The highlight of my evening was when Chel’s baby brother found a leftover stripper dollar tucked in between the couch cushions.
Pammie, Shi and I gave Chel this Nixon watch she has been lusting after for years. I’m not sure why she was so surprised that I kept that email where she told us about it… I still have handwritten letters dating back to sixth grade. I also have 19 saved voice messages that I have to go through every time I get a new voice message on my cell phone. And my inbox is full of saved text messages, so I have to delete a text every time I get a new one. I’m the worst offender when it comes to hoarding things with sentimental value. And if you can’t understand why I can’t bring myself to delete my friend’s text message informing me of Michael Jackson’s death last year, then you are dead to me—I’m talking to you, Shirley May!
Last night, I drank some bubbly and spent hours getting laid.
Okay so maybe that bubbly was a sparkling strawberry lemonade from Sonic. And those hours spent getting laid were really spent making a lei for Chubby’s 8th grade promotion.
The San Diego CountyDel Mar Fair opens today! I look forward to it every year. Where else can you watch the pig races (my fave), stock up on Quick-n-Brite, see a freakishly large horse, and eat deep fried Twinkies all at the same place? Is it weird that my heart started to race when I saw the new fair food map?
You guys are so obsessed with sports, you wear jerseys for teams you’re not even on. But you think you’re on the team, you’ll be like, “Yeah, last night we just didn’t score enough. We just didn’t play enough defense.” We? The Lakers don’t need you. That’s like me watching Grey’s Anatomy in scrubs, but then after the show is over, being like, “Man, we just could not save that guy.”
– Whitney Cummings
That being said, I really thought that we were going to win regionals tonight. I knew I should’ve worn my sequin dress during the season finale of Glee.
Glee Cast – To Sir, With Love
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/Glee Cast – To Sir With Love.mp3]
I woke up today smelling like baby lotion and Caress body wash with leftover dollar bills in my bra and a sudden urge to go to church. Here are some of the awesome things that happened at Chel’s bachelorette party last night in no particular order (other than most to least favorite):
Firefighter Tom from Alpine poured tequila down my shirt and did a body shot off my chest (among other things). Let it be known that I’m officially on the prowl for an east county white boy.
There was no shortage of penis-shaped food.
Preggo bartender Georja kept pumping out those test tube shots!
It was an 80s themed party and EVERYONE dressed up. Christine was my fave and looked just like my mom did in the 80s with her acid wash jean jacket and hairsprayed bangs.
The porno playing on TV throughout the whole night made it into the background of most of my photos.
I spent over $150 at the passion party. I don’t even spend that much on groceries! At least some of the products I bought were edible.
A lot of other things happened that I can’t mention—which is saying a lot considering I told you about that stripper licking tequila off my chest.
By the end of this month, I will have attended three baby showers and two weddings this year—none of which are my own. But I’m not bitter. Maybe a little tired of explaining to my grandma why I’m not married with children, but not bitter.
Making diaper cakes is not nearly as fun as making babies.
I wasted an hour of my life looking for leg warmers at Parkway Plaza after work today. Are they hard to find because it’s summer or because it’s not 1983??? They’re essential to my outfit for Chel’s highly anticipated 80s/bachelorette/passion party this weekend, and I must have them! Preferably in purple!
Can we go on record and say this is the last picture we’ll be taking at a Salinas fiesta?
Every year, the town my mom is from in the Philippines hosts this fiesta in San Diego. And every year, I look forward to one thing… nachos. It used to be seeing my relatives, but lately we’re the only offspring who show up to this shindig since all of our cousins are too busy reproducing. So as I got ready this morning, the only thing keeping me from staying home were those nachos.
Pammie and I met up with Chel, and I noticed she was eating an empanada. She loves nachos even more than I do (if that’s possible), so I asked her if she had already eaten nachos before we got there, and she tells me they ran out! WTF. We only stayed there long enough to say hello to our aunts and take this one last picture. Boo whore.
Human beings are funny. They long to be with the person they love but refuse to admit openly. Some are afraid to show even the slightest sign of affection because of fear. Fear that their feelings may not be recognized, or even worst, returned. But one thing about human beings puzzles me the most is their conscious effort to be connected with the object of their affection even if it kills them slowly within.
This is my third post this week that has food as its focal point. Someone randomly messaged me and asked where he should buy his girlfriend’s birthday cake yesterday. Do I look like I’ve eaten a lot of birthday cake or something? Because sadly, I have. And if you’re wondering what I suggested, I told him that European Cake Gallery in Point Loma is the place to go! Their White Bavarian cake with fresh strawberries, whipped cream and white chocolate shavings is the best I’ve ever had. And I’ve had a lot.
Anyway, Pizza Port just opened a location in Ocean Beach, and I’m excited because it’s closer than the ones in North County, and it’s near Trace’s house so I’ll have an excuse to see her more often. She couldn’t make it tonight, but Chris, Jay and Liz were able to go.
In preparation for the damage I was going to do at Pizza Port, I got my Slim Fast on at work (I didn’t lunge and squat to an entire Ke$ha song after an hour of kickboxing last night for nothing). Yes, that’s Robert Pattinson on my desktop. And yes, I know that my desktop is littered with an embarrassing number of icons. Get off me.
It probably wasn’t the best idea to have a beer when all I’d had was Slim Fast the whole day. I already felt buzzed by the time our food arrived.
We started with some Garlic Beer Buddies (whole grain beer crust brushed with garlic and deliciousness):
Then we ordered the Meet Extreme Meat pizza. And the Garlic Veggie pizza (pictured). And some wings and cheese sticks, too. In our defense, they were just 35¢ each. It would’ve been ridiculous NOT to get them…
As we rolled ourselves back to the car, we passed by the OB Farmers Market and picked up some mini donuts like we hadn’t just gorged ourselves at Pizza Port:
I wish we would have stopped there, but we hit up Yogurtland before heading home, too. For shame 🙁
The Postal Service – The District Sleeps Alone Tonight
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/The Postal Service – The District Sleeps Alone Tonight.mp3]
A stranger with your door key
Explaining that I’m just visiting
And I am finally seeing
Why I was the one worth leaving
At the risk of ruining what glimmer of street cred I might have, I’m going to let you in on my secret shame… I used to be in show choir. I have the sequin dress and nude character shoes to prove it. Fortunately, there’s no audio or video proof, but I think that admitting it is proof enough. Naturally, I fell in love with the TV show, Glee. And yes, I’m a total Gleek… What of it??? Last night, the girls and I headed up to LA to watch them in concert.
I took the day off from work, but was awakened at an ungodly hour by Shi, who loves her job and decided to take a half day instead. I mean, I don’t even know why she went to work at all. I’m sure her day consisted of taking two lunches, removing her nail polish with the cotton balls and nail polish remover she keeps readily available in her office, and calling me six times before 10am. Seriously, can I enjoy?
We picked up Pammie in the OC and stopped at In-N-Out for lunch. With our ridiculous order of extras (extra fries, extra-large drinks, extra-toasted buns, burgers cut in half… who are these people?), I’m surprised we ever made it to LA at all.
The LXD opened for Glee and I was blown away (especially by Madd Chadd Smith and his panty droppin’ chest pops). Def check out their inspiring performance at TED earlier this year. I’ll spare you the rest of the concert details, but the show was amazing. And I’m pretty sure Puck singled me out in the crowd and gave me a thumbs up in this picture. Try not to be too jealous:
We stayed the night at Pammie’s and planned to eat brunch at Break of Dawn in Laguna Hills before heading home:
Little did we know we’d be waking up at the break of dawn, too. Shi needed to be back in SD by noon, so brunch turned into breakfast. 8:30 isn’t too early for a cocktail, is it?
Shi ordered the craziest mac and cheese I’ve ever seen. It had Sicilian sausage, short ribs, smoked gouda, tomato carbonara sauce, and was topped with bacon fried eggs:
Pammie and Chel both ordered the green eggs and ham benedict. Would they eat them in a box? Would they like them with a fox? And an even bigger question—how has Shi never heard of Green Eggs and Ham???
I ordered the most sinful thing on the menu… creme brulee french toast. It def beat the strawberries and cream french toast I had from Cafe 21 (and that’s saying something):
Pammie also got promoted to manager of her auditing department yesterday, so I just wanted to say congrats again! I know she won’t be moving back home to San Diego anytime soon, so I guess I’ll just have to keep going up to the OC to visit her. And if I’m forced to eat at Break of Dawn while I’m there, then so be it.
Christine, Shi, Chel and I hit up The Pearl Hotel for dinner, drinks and Dive-in Theatre tonight. They were showing Sex and the City: The Movie poolside, so we thought we’d get together and watch it for the millionth time.
Shi: (looking at the menu) What’s a pom-us fritz? Mayan:Pommes frites! It’s what you’re eating, crazy! French fries!
I wish I wasn’t so mean about it. Karma’s only a bitch if you are (as I would find out later). How is she supposed to know what pommes frites is, or how to say it? This is the girl who thought we made up the word aioli, after all.
I love it when I arrive for dinner and there’s a cocktail already waiting for me:
The highlight of my evening… prosciutto-wrapped shrimp skewer with fig/onion marinade:
And the lowlight of my evening… eating shit on the way back to my car with Chel. I tripped over the curb, scraped my elbows and knees, bruised my shins, and ripped a hole in my favorite jeans.
I’m sorry, Shi… You can call it “pom-us fritz” if you want to.
I found myself locked out of my house this afternoon. Bra-less.
It was my worst nightmare realized.
I went into the garage to get my bra in my car (don’t ask me why I thought it was in there), and I realized that I had locked the garage door behind me by habit. And then I realized that my bra wasn’t in my car. And then I realized that I was fucked.
I found the “I ♥ Haters” shirt Shi had given me in my trunk, so I threw that on. I knew that my bedroom window was open, but my room is on the second floor. I went into the backyard and scaled the fence like a ninja. I stood there for a few minutes staring at the gap between the roof I needed to jump on and the top of the fence where I stood. I just kept imagining myself lying on the ground with my legs broken… my “I ♥ Haters” shirt over my head, exposing me in all my bra-less glory while I waited for someone to help me. And so I decided to explore other options.
I went around the back and checked to see if I left the sliding door open after I let Rocky out. But of course, today was the one day I remembered to lock it. I didn’t think that the front window would be unlocked, since I never open it, but I checked it anyway, and it was! I took the screen door off, slid the window open and climbed inside. During all that commotion, Rocky just lay there on the couch staring at the wall. Useless!
Here’s what I’ve learned from this experience:
It’s a little too easy to break into my house.
Don’t take your bra off in your car.
Get a dog that will at least try to look alive when someone is potentially breaking into your house.
My coworker ate shit, split her lip and nearly broke her arm while walking to work today. As someone whose legs are permanently scarred (and ruined!) from falling down the stairs last Halloween, I empathized and tried to ease her pain with an Iced Caramel Macchiato and a ride home from work. She loves Chelsea Lately and would definitely appreciate this quote:
At some point during almost every romantic comedy, the female lead suddenly trips and falls, stumbling helplessly over something ridiculous like a leaf, and then some Matthew McConaughey type either whips around the corner just in the nick of time to save her or is clumsily pulled down along with her. That event predictably leads to the magical moment of their first kiss. Please. I fall ALL the time. You know who comes and gets me? The bouncer.
Luckily, I have friends who escort my drunk ass out before the bouncer does. The same friends also take incriminating cell phone pictures of me passed out in hotel bathrooms and whip them out amongst strangers, but that’s neither here nor there.
Every night after work, I begrudgingly drag my ass to the gym. But today, I finally found my motivation. Turbo Kickboxing Instructor Mike, where have you been all my life??? It will be like that summer I took that art class in college with that hot teacher and had unusually perfect attendance that quarter 😉
Update: I just googled Mike to see what gyms he regularly teaches at since he subbed my class today, and his personal training site lists him as MARRIED (of course he is). Come to think of it, that hot art teacher from college was married, too.
Yeah, I’m pretty sure God wants me to die alone. And possibly out of shape.
My life is in shambles. I pretty much have no reason to live now that they’ve canceled the 91X morning show (again). They already broke my heart in 2007 when they fired Cantore. My morning commute to work won’t be the same without the Drunk Dial Line (often powered by the Lakeside double-wide division) and the always awesome Mat Diablo. Seriously, what’s up with me and my tendency towards married men with children???
Here’s Mat with my other love, Sam the Cooking Guy (who’s also married with children):
Now if they decide to cancel Sam the Cooking Guy’s show, I will have to kick whoever’s responsible square in their taco. Don’t think I won’t!
If my mom had taught me how to cook, I would have made her brunch today. Instead, my aunts came down from LA for Mother’s Day and made these nutella-filled ebleskivers. I inhaled maybe twenty of them, give or take a few. Fucking Europeans trying to sabotage me with their delicious treats. It’s not racist if it’s a compliment, right? Is that how it works?
Aww, check out my mom with her mom on Mother’s Day weekend. I know what you’re all thinking… Yes, my beautiful mother looks freakishly young for a woman in her fifties. And yes, my children will be just as blind as us four-eyed freaks. I would say that 20/20 vision should be a requirement for my future baby daddy, but the pool keeps shrinking the closer I get to my dirty thirties, so I think it would be wise not to discriminate, don’t you?
I’m all about good food and good drinks with good friends, and this diet is just ruining my life. I don’t even know who I am right now. Did I really say no to Cinco de Drinko at D&B’s with Jay and his coworkers AND margaritas at Ortega’s with Shi and her coworkers this week? I think the bigger question is what’s the deal with me hanging out with my friends and their coworkers??? As a general rule, I don’t go out with the people I work with. At least not since my manager’s drunken birthday disaster of 2008. Yikes. Anyway, with only six weeks left till Chel’s wedding, I’ve been eating bird portions and hitting the gym every night in a late attempt to fit into the bridesmaid dress I purposely (and over ambitiously) ordered three sizes too small. Apparently, losing 25 pounds wasn’t enough. It would’ve been, had I lost it all in my chest. As I always say, these ladies are a blessing and a curse. This sudden spike in turbo kickboxing classes has also left me with some seriously sore stems. I have to admit, walking around like I’ve just been butt-raped has been very humbling.
I don’t believe it
I won’t believe it
I’m not sad
I understand
That’s how it goes
I’m in love with the Strokes, but I’m not really into Julian Casablancas’ solo album. I do love this one song, however. I’d love it more if he sang it acoustic. In my bedroom. With no pants on.
I’m not sure how I got swindled into baking brownie bites with peanut butter frosting for the Cinco de Mayo potluck at my work when a) I don’t even eat anything at the potlucks because I Lean Cuisine it during the week and b) what the hell do brownies with peanut butter frosting have to do with Cinco de Mayo? Someone scribbled “Marion’s brownies” on the sign-up sheet underneath the guacamole and tortilla chips. Freak ass freaks. You bring something good once, and people just won’t let you forget about it.
I weighed myself after a few months of dieting/exercising/losing my will to live for Chel‘s wedding, and I’ve lost 25 pounds.
Shawn the stripper has been confirmed for Chel’s bachelorette/passion party.
I don’t think I have to tell you which one I’m most excited about… Anyone who knows me knows that I’ve been looking for an excuse to bring Shawn back into my life since 2005 😉
Call me crazy, I was born to make a mess
Would you love me still if I were to confess
That I had a little too much fun back when I was young
I’ve got these habits that I cannot break
And as I’m older there is more at stake
Go ahead and call me fake, but these are the sins
The sins of my youth
The girls and I stumbled by Station Tavern and Burgers when we were down the street getting our Booty Bassment on at Whistle Stop a couple months ago. The restaurant is beautifully designed, and they’ve got these gorgeous lights hanging in their outdoor patio, so we said we’d come back to eat there sometime. We had dinner there last night, and it changed my life! My burger was amazing, and I wanted its pillowy challah bun to have my babies. Hodad’s still has the best burger I’ve ever had, but Station Tavern is a very close second. If the bacon at Hodad’s joined forces with Station Tavern’s challah buns, its level of deliciousness would be illegal in some small countries. Their garlic fries were pretty outstanding, too. And it was cheap! The four of us spent $50—burgers, sides and beers included. It’s in South Park, so it’s family-friendly. Everyone was there with their babies and/or their dogs. Well, everyone except for us. #1: I don’t have a baby. And #2: I left Rocky’s funky butt at home where he belongs. We stayed there bitching about ex loves reminiscing till they closed at midnight. And as if we didn’t have enough meat on Saturday, we hit up Phil’s BBQ today for some more meaty goodness. I think I might have been overcompensating.
I’ve got wallowing down to a science… I spent the better half of 2006 perfecting it, after all. I’m not gonna lie, my usual method of getting over someone is by getting under someone else. But I’m realizing that happiness is an inside job. I can’t sit here waiting for another guy to come along to stop wallowing about the last one. One day, you just have to decide not to be sad anymore. And that day was today. Well, actually it was Friday, but killing a few bottles of wine with Anthony foiled that plan. And then I decided it was yesterday. But while getting drinks with friends, one of the employees came up to our table and asked if any of us were he who shall not be named, because he who shall not be named had a phone call. Coincidence or cruel joke? As I walked out wondering if it was a sign, I looked up to the sky, dramatically shook my fist at the heavens, and almost got hit by a car. And so I decided that today would be the day (again). It’s barely noon, but I’m feeling optimistic. I mean, I’m going to Phil’s for lunch… If a beefy rib tickler isn’t guaranteed happiness, I don’t know what is.
Let’s go slowly, discouraged
We’ll burn the pictures instead
When it’s all over we can barely discuss
For one minute only, not with the fortunate only
Thought it could have been something else
Since the first day you reached out to me, I kept searching for hints of the relationship you kept from me. I couldn’t see it in the description of your morning routine or your weekend recaps, but I could feel it in your absent admission to the contrary. I planned to keep quiet and let this fade out, as I do with everything else I feel isn’t worth fighting for. But this was you. And to me, you have always been worth it. So I finally got up the nerve to say,
Are you seeing anyone?
I knew the answer before I even asked the question. I should have asked you this in the beginning, but I convinced myself that you wouldn’t hide something like that from me. Except you did. And while you justified it by not doing anything more than correspond back and forth, the line was already crossed when you first contacted me, and you’ve been on the other side of it ever since.
At least I know that you didn’t just dismiss me as some reckless fling you had when we were younger. I can’t be mad at you for wanting to talk to me, but what was the point of this, other than resurrecting all these memories I haven’t thought about in years? It’s like you just came back to remind me that you still can’t do this. Even if you didn’t know what you were looking to get out of this in the beginning, you made the choice not to tell me about her for months. What did you want from me?
You and I will always have some unfinished business, but eventually, it’ll be as it was. You’ll forget about me. I’ll forget about you.
Well, I’d say I’ve successfully fulfilled my nostalgia quota for the week year.
This trip down memory lane ended at my old friend/ex-love’s 30th birthday party last night. It’s strange to see someone you’ve spent so much of your life with and feel nothing… And to think of someone else you didn’t spend nearly enough time with and feel everything.
She wanted something else, something different, something more. Passion and romance, perhaps. Or maybe a quiet, heartfelt conversation into the wee hours of the night. Or perhaps something as simple as not being second.
We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It’s easy. The first girl I ever loved was someone I knew in sixth grade. Her name was Missy; we talked about horses. The last girl I love will be someone I haven’t even met yet, probably. They all count. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these loveable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.
Don’t say a word, just come over and lie here with me
‘Cause I’m just about to set fire to everything I see
I want you so bad I’ll go back on the things I believe
There I just said it, I’m scared you’ll forget about me
Yesterday, there was an unexpected venti iced sugar-free vanilla soy latte waiting for me at my desk when I got to work in the morning. Christine treated me out to pizza and beer at Pizza Port for dinner. And then I ended the night at an amazing $10 Temper Trap show with my girls.
Hi love… I saw this pic and thought of you. Since you were all about those upside down animals in your blog. And this dog TOTALLY reminded me of you. I mean… how many times have I seen you in this position anyway? In your short shorts that might as well be underwear!? Hahhaha =)
#1 How dare you? Shorts, by definition, are short! It’s in the name.
#2 I’m totally in this position right now as I type this in my underwear.
This really did cheer me up today 🙂 Thanks, babeway ♥
I just received an invitation to my ex‘s dirty 30th. It has been years since I’ve seen him and even longer since we’ve dated. It seems like only yesterday I designed the flyer for his 21st birthday. Haha. This should be interesting.
Nasty wake up call this morning (and not the good kind, either). It was way too early on a Sunday for all that bitching. I would love to just take a drive along the coast and listen to my summer playlist, but it’s cloudy outside, barely sixty degrees, and oh yeah, my driver’s license is still suspended. Boo whore.
Anyway, on with the playlist:
The Kooks – She Moves In Her Own Way
Vampire Weekend – Campus
Phoenix – 1901
Franz Ferdinand – No You Girls
Weezer – (If You’re Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To
Neon Trees – Animal
The Strokes – You Only Live Once
Cake – Let Me Go
Modest Mouse – Float On
Arctic Monkeys – I Bet You Look Good On The Dance Floor
Dwight: Okay, do me. Something stereotypical, so I can get it really quick.
Pam: Okay. If I have to do this, based on stereotypes that are totally untrue, that I do not agree with, you would maybe not be a very good driver.
Dwight: Oh, man! Am I a woman?!
In the process of renewing my car insurance earlier this week, I found out that my license has been suspended for the past seven months! Yowza. Some asshole CHP pulled me over on the freeway during morning traffic in the pouring rain just for having tinted windows last year, and I forgot about the $10 fix-it ticket, of course. Now that I’ve paid 48x the original ticket price (yikes!), I still need to be able to drive to work and back while I wait a week for them to reinstate my license. I’d like to avoid getting a misdemeanor and having my car impounded, so I’ve been driving with my still-tinted windows rolled down while my windblown hair grows ten times bigger by the time I reach my destination. As if having tinted windows is the only reason I’d get pulled over… Never mind that I’m on my phone tweeting pictures of my dog while I’m driving.
So, we saw this, threw in the design towel, found a quiet dark corner, cried & ate chocolate. Three syllable word A-MA-ZING. These lovelies come from Mayan Rocks who we found via Hifiweddings.com.
I googled “happy birthday alicia” and these are the images that came up! Haha. Happy 29th birthday to my favorite Mexican. I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you today, but I hope these googled cakes will suffice until we meet again (soon, I hope). Love you mucho, cabrona ♥
After a particularly shitty afternoon, these upside down animals really turn my day around. Seriously, what has my life come to? Off to the gym to de-stress.
Oh So Beautiful Paper featured the wedding invitations I designed for Chel on their website. No big deal 😉 I couldn’t be happier if they were invitations to my own wedding! Actually, let’s not get carried away now…
Raechel and Alex’s DIY wedding invitations are all about two of my favorite things – music and kraft paper! Raechel worked with her cousin Marion to design the invitations, incorporating Raechel and Alex’s shared love of music throughout the wedding stationery while using a typewriter font and copper brads for a slight vintage vibe:
Check out the rest of the feature here and additional work in my portfolio.
I’m all about criminal dramas—CSI, Law & Order, Cold Case, Without a Trace, The Closer, and my personal favorite, Criminal Minds. I find it comforting that murders are always solved within an hour (commercial breaks included), even though I know firsthand that this almost never happens in real life. Like Chel, this isn’t something I usually talk about… I was only thirteen when it happened. Fifteen years later, the day my family has been waiting for has finally arrived.
I woke up at an ungodly hour this morning to attend boot camp with the girls downtown at Embarcadero Marina Park. We had a beautiful view of the marina, but I was too distracted by the sweat dripping into my eyes and the blinding pain in my legs from warming up on the stairs of the convention center. I’m definitely gonna be hurting tomorrow.
I officially have 90 days till Chel’s wedding. One dress size down, two more to go…
Do you guys want to know how to make these sit ups easier?
LOSE SOME WEIGHT!
Today felt like summer, so I wore a dress. It’s kind of a big deal, considering my mid-winter legs hadn’t felt a razor since mid-February. This heat wave isn’t supposed to last, so tomorrow’s outfit will be business as usual… I’m really getting a lot of mileage out of those yoga pants.
If this 90° weather wasn’t enough of a tease, I have the perfect song to put you in the mood for summer:
Chel asked me a burning question I’m sure you’ve all been losing sleep over…
Am I going to have a +1 at her wedding???
I’ve spent the past couple of days mulling over this question. I thought about it while we waited in line for Alice in Wonderland, and Chel asked everyone except me who was the funnier one in their current relationships (you don’t need to ask me who was funnier in all my past relationships—I’m clearly a riot). The four of us have been attached at the nip for as long as I can remember, and I have always been the single one out. Sure, a couple of them have been single while I was single (and for a very brief moment we all were single), but I’m the only one who is ever single alone. I thought about it again when I went to dinner with my sister earlier tonight, and we ran into two of her ex-boyfriend’s ex-girlfriends. I realized that all of them were engaged—her ex-boyfriend and all of his ex’s, my sister included.
I’m almost certain that my status will remain unchanged three months from now. That’s not me being pessimistic; I’m actually quite the opposite. I think I see the good in people too often, thinking that they’re worth more than they really are… even though they continue to disprove me repeatedly. It doesn’t help that today marks a full week since Il Postino did me dirty again (and not in a good way), and as predicted, no apologies have been offered.
And so I told Chel that I won’t be needing a +1. She already has 300 guests. I don’t want her spending another $50 on dinner for this tentative +1 of mine. Alas, I will be the only one out of five bridesmaids and two maids of honor without a date. And if you’re reading this thinking, “Damn, I really wanted to be your +1…” then maybe you should stop stalking me on the internet and make movements instead—yes, I’m talking to you, Anthony!
I had a craftastic evening with the bride-to-be and her bevy of bridesmaids. I finished the wedding invitations while the girls worked on the centerpieces. Check us out—designing invitations, hot gluing sticks together (or in Shi’s case, her hair), living in a personal hell I call diet and exercise in order to fit into our dresses… Being a bridesmaid is serious work! It’s a good thing I love this broad.
The design geek inside of me is lusting after these Helvetica Cookie Cutters. My love for typography has joined forces with my love for baking! It couldn’t be more perfect than Helvetica itself.
Now who do I have to bone to combine my love for carbs with my love for not exercising?
