I will not be the first one to speak. And if he never calls me again, I’ll always think of him fondly. As an asshole.

I waited for you in the rain last night, and the only thing I wanted to do more than turn around and go home was see you. I don’t know what makes me more sad—the fact that you haven’t apologized, or knowing that you wouldn’t.

Thanks to Anthony for hosting dinner last night and sharing this hilarious monologue with us (four different times). The chicken enchiladas parmesan was interesting, but I enjoyed the wine and company!

Run Into Flowers:

Just received the final version of the cover of my wedding invitations. Thanks so much to the talented Mayan for designing the whole thing!! 143!

I tried to capture Chel’s vintage style while incorporating everything she wanted—layers of sheet music, lace, typewriter font, and her wedding colors, pink and brown. The invitations will be printed on cream linen cardstock. I can’t wait to see how they turn out 🙂

Did I mention how much I love the Winter Olympics???

WANT.

For some people, love doesn’t exist unless you acknowledge it in front of other people.

Another 3am text message from Il Postino this weekend. It’s always back and forth with us. He drunk messages me one weekend. I do it the next. He does it again, but this time he’s just trying to be funny—”trying” being the operative word here. I know he’s mocking my drunken text from the weekend before, so I tell him he’s lucky I’m awake at that unholy hour. And then I remember that I purposely ignored his messages on Valentine’s Day, so he thinks things are okay between us now that I’ve broken my silence. Every time I get off this carousel, I just get back on again, spinning around and around knowing this ride always makes me sick.

I was really dreading this past weekend, but it actually wasn’t half bad 🙂 On Friday, Shi, Ella, Sha and I did what any other masochistic group of single girls would do on Valentine’s Day weekend—we watched Dear John (aka Sobfest 2010). Christine gave it half a thumb, but I actually liked it! I cried throughout the entire movie. It definitely didn’t touch The Notebook, but I’d recommend at least renting it when it’s released (if only to see Channing Tatum running around half naked).

I drowned my sorrows at The Local with the girls and Antonio Saturday night. Fifty dollars, six cranberry vodkas, two slices of New York pizza, and one drunken text to the ex later (yikes), I called it a night at four in the morning.

I woke up on Sunday with a hangover and a text back from Il Postino. I didn’t get back to him—he drunk messaged me three times the weekend before, so I thought I didn’t have to explain myself. The girls all texted me to make sure that I wasn’t going to throw myself off a bridge before spending the day with their significant others, and I even got a V-Day greeting from the Cake Boss (which I also ignored). Shi invited me to brunch, but I felt too sick to eat anything at that ungodly hour. I spent the majority of my day designing Chel’s wedding invitation while watching Lifetime’s Lovers Lane Movie Marathon (don’t judge me). Sitting through all 120 minutes of Flirting with Forty was worth discovering Robert Buckley. Hot damn. I don’t usually like blondes, but I’ll make an exception for this one.

Il Postino texted me after midnight—and after he had gotten home from his Valentine’s date, I’m sure—saying thanks for (not) returning the drunken text and he hoped I had a great Valentine’s Day. Number one… how dare you? And number two… don’t call me past 11pm. It was late, and I didn’t think it was a good idea to respond, so I didn’t. I like how we only talk to each other when we’re intoxicated and/or at an indecent hour. Don’t make me that girl that you only call after midnight—especially not on Valentine’s Day. And especially not when I used to be that girl you’d take roller skating on a random Tuesday before the street lights came on.

I would just like to be involved with someone who values me enough to call me at a respectable hour… someone who would maybe take me to Birch Aquarium to look at moon jellies, grab some dinner afterwards (nothing fancy), and maybe share a Churros Con Chocolate cupcake from Cups. Or even a churro from Costco would be fine by me. You know, I don’t ask for much (and I also don’t get much, either… go figure).

On Monday, Chel, Shi and I had a three hour sesh at Tap Ex. We always find time for each other. These girls are my heart. They make me realize that I’m better off without these jerkoffs I keep involving myself with. And they completely understand when I blow them off to watch meteor showers with the same jerkoffs ♥

Chel surprised me at work with these homemade strawberry nutella cupcakes. Sweet, huh? 🙂 Thanks for making my day, babe ♥

In my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person is still going to think the sun shines out your ass. That’s the kind of person that’s worth sticking with.

(image via someecards)

I came home from the gym this morning to this chocolate covered strawberry bouquet sent from my sister and her fiancé. I smell sabotage… sweet, sweet sabotage. I didn’t work out every day this week and pull three two-a-days to indulge in dessert—I did it so I could drink my sorrows away tonight with my single friends. My sister is so thoughtful, though 🙂 She knows how much I hate this godforsaken holiday.

A food analogy if you will, it’s like a redneck preferring a sloppy joe to a fine cut of filet mignon—he’s too uncouth to appreciate you.

And it wears me out
It wears me out

(image via vivatregina)

Working with people who get my pop culture references is the only thing that helps me keep my sanity—especially on days like this when I have to finish four newsletters and three homepage banners in one week because this Monday is a holiday, and deadlines don’t care about your scheduled days off (even if they’re unpaid).

I’ve been on this crazy diet and exercise regimen for the past few weeks in preparation for Chel’s wedding. I just don’t want to be scrambling to lose three dress sizes in May to fit into my bridesmaid dress. Its pleated waistline promises to hide any indiscretions (like that wing-eating contest you entered the night before or that Mexican you didn’t know was hiding in your uterus), but I thought I’d be on the safe side and pull some two-a-days at the gym. I took kickboxing and salsa dancing today. My kickboxing instructor kept yelling, “Throw those punches! Squeeze those glutes! You gotta look good for your man on Valentine’s Day!” And I’m thinking, the only man who’s gonna see me naked on Valentine’s Day is my masseur at Chiropractique! Boo whore. At least someone’s hands will be on me that day…

I’ve had a rough day week month… Please be kind to me, 2010. I don’t think I can take 325 more days like this.

Happy birthday to my heart twin, Shi. I love you like I love walking around in my chones. And when you come over, I love you enough to put on some pants.

(image via flickflickflicker)

Valentine’s Day wouldn’t be complete without torturing yourself with bad romance movies.

Pammie, Chel, Shi, Anthony and I (the Choadorios!) hit up Pho Cali and Cups for Shi’s birthday. No matter where we are, we always end up being that table—the loudest one in the restaurant. Sorry if we’re just having more fun than you… Vietnamese noodles and cupcakes aren’t exactly fine dining, so learn to love our obnoxious infectious laughter and keep cool, my babies. My stomach hurts from all that laughing. Or maybe it was from those two cupcakes I ate. Or the breakfast burrito I had earlier… Get off me.

Someone I used to know emailed me out of the blue last week. We were just teenagers when we knew each other. He was a part of my past that I thought would never come back—sort of like the tongue ring I used to have when I knew him. And the brown chola lip liner I used to wear. Yet there was his name in lowercase letters waiting for me in my inbox. He said that he looked me up online and stumbled upon my blog. I cyberstalk google random people all the time, but I don’t think I’ve ever contacted anyone I don’t talk to anymore. I’m really horrible at keeping in touch. Before I know it, days, months, and years go by. Like January 2010, for example. I’m still in denial it ever happened. How is it February already??? Sometimes I feel like it’s too late to say anything… I’m glad people think otherwise, though. It was really nice to hear from him (and only a little bit creepy).

I was curious about what other details of my life surfaced when he looked me up online, so I googled myself. I’m quite the social networking butterfly—my Facebook, Myspace and Twitter accounts came up first. I can only handle one social network at a time, so I haven’t touched my Myspace since I joined Facebook, and my tweets are few and far between (to the dismay of @idntfd—he thinks my life is far more interesting than it really is). Nothing too embarrassing or too personal came up, though… unless you count my old Xanga page—complete with a rotating icon of me, my ex, and my aforementioned tongue ring. Yikes.

I woke up to three messages on my phone from Il Postino at two in the morning. Nothing good ever happens at that hour.

(image via thewordsalloverme)

I think I may have found a date for Valentine’s Day. So what if my “date” is a married man with three kids and two dogs? And who cares if by “Valentine’s Day” I really meant Chinese New Year (which just happens to fall on the same day)? Whatever.

Sam the Cooking Guy is having this contest where the prize is to have dim sum with him (plus a friend and four other couples) at Emerald that day. All you have to do to be eligible is translate this Mandarin phrase posted in his newsletter. My grandpa was Chinese, but the only Mandarin words I know are the ones you can find inside P.F. Chang’s menu. I asked every Chinese person I knew to translate this phrase for me—my co-worker’s friend in Arizona, one of my sister’s co-workers in her auditing department, my ex-boyfriend’s sister’s fiancé… They all agreed on the same translation, so I’ve submitted my entry. Wish me luck! If I don’t win, I’ll be forced to hit the bars and make some bad decisions…

I just downloaded Sade’s new album, Soldier of Love. I’m not sure which iTunes playlist to file it under—Baby Makin’ Music or Sad Times? Conundrum!

By Your Side is still my all-time favorite Sade song. I’ve known it was going to be my wedding song since the first time I heard it in 2000. Ten years later, I’m still not married I haven’t changed my mind.

When you’re on the outside baby and you can’t get in
I will show you you’re so much better than you know
When you’re lost and you’re alone and you cant get back again
I will find you darling and I will bring you home

I’m not gonna lie—my vagina is pretty excited.

Pammie, Shi, Anthony and I went to Chel’s house last night to help her with wedding stuff. Chel asked me to design her wedding invitations, and I couldn’t be more honored 🙂 She has 300 guests and is trying to keep the wedding costs down. It’s a good thing I work for lychee sake and tator tots.

The Cake Boss asked me to go out to some bar my friends were spinning at, McLovin’ texted me at an unholy hour, and I even had a brief exchange with Il Postino last night. When it rains, it pours I guess. There’s no where in the world I’d rather be than with these crazy bitches, though. God forbid I miss conversations like this…

Anthony: I was texting Chel about your website, and she got really annoyed because I kept calling it your “page”…
Chel: It’s called a blog. Stop calling it that.
Anthony: Whatever, I’ll call it her pagina if I want to.
Chel: Oh, is that what you were calling it? Page in spanish? All this time I thought you were texting me pagina. Like vagina with a p!

Le’sigh… Never a dull moment 🙂

(image via ffffound)

After a week of kickboxing, salsa dancing, and sweating my ass off (literally) everyday after work, I treated myself out to dinner at Banbu Sushi with the BFF and Ray. The wait was an hour long and the parking lot was ridiculously tiny, so I had to park down the street. Maybe I should have made reservations. And not worn high heels. I may be biased from eating nothing but Lean Cuisines all week, but the food was so, so good! I can’t believe I lived up the street from this place all last year and never tried it. It was San Diego Restaurant Week, so we got three courses for just $20. All of the specials came with edamame and your choice of soup or salad. We all chose onion soup, since none of us were planning on making out after dinner. For the appetizer, Ray and I got the Banbu Bites—shiitaki mushrooms stuffed with crab, spicy sesame ahi, and surrounded by tempura (pictured above). I can’t even explain how delicious they were. By far, the best thing I ate last night. Alicia got the Calamari Salad, which was deep fried calamari on top of baby greens and seaweed. It was good, but def not as good as our Banbu Bites! They were really busy last night, but Ray had already finished his beer before they brought out my Strawberry Mojito that I had to remind them about. The service wasn’t that great, but the food made up for it. She brought out mine and Ray’s main courses next. I got the Tangerine Shrimp with Sweet Chili Sauce and Ray got the Short Rib Ramen. Ray and I kept making these orgasmic sounds that you only make when you’re eating something really good! Haha. I wasn’t expecting such large portions, but it was a good amount of food. We were halfway done with our main courses before they brought out Alicia’s food, and all she ordered was the 10-Piece Sushi Combo. I’m not sure what took so long, since they didn’t even have to cook it! I think the waitress kept forgetting about us. The sushi was slathered in some wasabi/horseradish sauce and Alicia’s mouth was on fire. I’ve never been to a place where the sushi came with wasabi already inside of it, but Alicia ate what she could. They brought out dessert next. Ray got the Chocolate Lava Cake with Vanilla Gelato. The cake was too rich for me, but the gelato was good. Alicia chose the Mochi Ice Cream in red bean, green tea and vanilla. I didn’t try it, but I’ve had mochi before and I love it. She said the red bean was the best flavor. I got the Mango Crème Brulée with Tropical Compote. Other than forgetting to brûlez the crème, that part of the dessert was really good. I didn’t like the compote because there was ginger in it. Yuck. I hate ginger. But I love gingerbread cookies. And ginger ale. Is that weird? Anyway, I ended up paying $40 with tax, tip and mojito. So much for spending $20! The courses I picked were definitely worth it, though. I would go back just for the Banbu Bites alone.

Jesse: You’re such a dork
mayanrocks: says the guy with the cheese wax pyramid on his desk!
Jesse: Hey, that’s artistry you philistine!
Jesse: I need to buy more yellow Babybels to accent the sides
mayanrocks: …
Jesse: God, I’m such a dork

I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism.

My very first diaper cake!

The Cake Boss said that he pictures me living in South Park. Apparently, it’s where hipsters go to get married and have dogs. So what he’s saying is… he thinks I’m hip, he wants to marry me, and possibly raise an English bulldog together. Did anyone else get that???

This is only my second time apartment-hunting. Last year, Pammie told me, “Whatever you do, don’t sign anything.” And what did I do? First apartment I saw, I signed a lease. It was like that one time she said, “Whatever you do, don’t close the garage.” And what did I do? I walked straight to the garage, hit the garage door opener, and closed the garage on her car. It’s like I heard everything but the “don’t” part. Anyway, I was locked into a year lease with a beautiful apartment that cost entirely too much money. I knew people renting 2-bedrooms for cheaper than what I was paying for my single. There were times when I would make spaghetti and eat it for five days straight—I’m exaggerating zero percent. It was like I was in Café World and I had whipped up too many servings, except there were no café points earned from eating all that spaghetti—just carbs. I’m on Craiglist everyday, and I’ve learned that listings with the words “charming,” “section 8 approved,” and/or “drive by first and then call” are generally no bueno. Finding a nice, cheap apartment in SD is hard these days. I guess it doesn’t help that I’m partial to granite countertops, crown moulding, stainless steel appliances and hardwood floors. Hey, I can’t help it if my modern espresso furniture refuses to coexist with wall-to-wall carpeting.

Okay so my friend just totally had a baby. She didn’t even know she was pregnant! She had back pain and went to the ER, and they told her that there was a baby inside her causing all that pain! WTF? There’s an entire show dedicated to this sort of thing on the Discovery Channel. It’s like one of those things that you think will never happen to you or anyone you know. I feel like I would just know if I was pregnant. Like how do you not know? Wouldn’t you feel it? Except this one time, I was lounging around our hotel room in Vegas, and I didn’t notice that my right boob had fallen out of my dress when I got up to get more wine. It was like a scene out of The 40-Year-Old Virgin, sans the speed dating. I was walking around and Marisa was like, “Your boob! Your boooob!” You’d think that I’d notice with the breeze and everything, but I didn’t. Hmm… Maybe I should get my babymaker checked to make sure there’s no Mexican hiding in there.

Six years have passed, but you are not forgotten ♥

I know I have you guys, but—and really, I hate myself a little for saying this—but it felt really sad not to have a man in my life who cares about me. No special guy to wish me happy birthday. No goddamn soul mate. And I don’t even know if I believe in soul mates.

Up until four years ago, I had a boyfriend to wish me happy birthday every year for nearly a decade. I’ve had dates, relationships and what have you over the past few years, but no amount of smizing, hair flips or threats could make them stick around for my birthday. Maybe it’s those crazy wish lists I come up with, I don’t know. I hate how I let this one thing I don’t have affect all the things I do have. I’m so lucky to have such great friends and relatives. I received over fifty birthday greetings via text, Facebook and phone. But the truth is, everything could be going great in my life and none of it would matter if I didn’t have anyone to share it with.

This year was no different. Il Postino knew it was my birthday. He knew. He asked his sister where she was taking me for dinner that morning. I wish she wouldn’t mention me at all around him. I’m almost certain that if we didn’t have her to keep us connected, we would’ve let each other go a long time ago. I never ask for anything. All I wanted was to be acknowledged. He couldn’t even bring himself to—at the very least—leave me a Facebook message wishing me a happy birthday in the most informal way he possibly could. His complete disregard for me stings more than the leopard print body pillow his mom gave me for Christmas.

But in spite of all that, I saw him again last night. I didn’t bring up my birthday. I didn’t bring up the fact that we haven’t spoken since the meteor shower. Disappointment is an emotion I’ve gotten used to wearing around him. He never apologizes for anything, with the exception of that one time last summer—and even that felt like it was court-ordered. I live for these sort of movie moments. That’s all I have with him. Just moments. It’s the reason why I never argue with him. Because no matter how bad it gets, I always come back. So why ruin the moment? When I see him, it’s understood that we revert to the way things used to be between us… when everything was beautiful and nothing hurt, if only for one night. Or maybe I’ve misunderstood all along. Maybe these moments have been meaningless from the start.

I’ve realized that nothing will ever make him sure of me—not the fact that his family adores me, not the familiarity of my lips or the way my hand always fits perfectly in his, not the SpongeBob DVDs I gave him for Christmas that he didn’t bother to acknowledge just like my birthday, and especially not the fact that for reasons I can’t explain, I’ve always been so sure of him.

Thanks to everyone for a memorable birthday! I just wanted to keep it simple with no frills… I don’t need to celebrate my growing spinster status! Pammie, Shi and Chel treated me to Extraordinary Desserts last weekend. We tried the Chocolate Strudel, Lemon Bar, Strawberry Shortcake, Raspberry Linzer Danish, Strawberry Crumb Cake and Matcha Green Tea Lattes. Don’t judge us! The girls gave me a gift certificate for a massage at Chiropractique! I hadn’t even posted my birthday wish list yet, and they already knew what I wanted. I guess I talk about my love for massages that much! Maybe I should start talking about my love for bearded Mexicans who drink beer and watch football—oh wait, I already do 😉 There’s always next year. Haha. We somehow rolled ourselves over to the theater to watch Leap Year after all that yummy dessert. I loved it, just like Il Postino told me I would. Le’sigh.

On Monday, I went to happy hour with Jay and some JCP folk. Always a good time and good laughs with these people! Jay gave me a gift certificate to Chef City so I could load up on restaurant supplies. I think that’s a hint for me to start looking for a new apartment so I can go back to hosting food nights at my place! Just like the time he gave me that cupcake cookbook… I’m sure it was more for his benefit than my own! Haha. I still love you, friend 🙂 Anyway, I drowned myself in margaritas since I was off the next day. It was quite the nightcap—I was in bed by eleven. I’m getting so old!

I took the day off for my actual birthday. I always do, even if I have nothing planned. Having to work on your birthday is all kinds of unholy. Kind of like eating meat on Good Friday. Or going commando in another man’s fatigues. It’s just something you don’t do! Pammie had some fruit truffles delivered to my house from Edible Arrangements! Best sister EVER! The BFF, Ray and the kids took me out to dinner at Phil’s. They told one of the employees it was my birthday and she had the entire restaurant sing to me! Mortifying. At least I got a free t-shirt out of it. As if I wasn’t embarrassed enough, I sat in the front seat of Ray’s Green Machine while he bumped reggae music on the drive home. Haha… I’m kidding, Ray. I love reggae and your freakishly small car—I can’t speak for your family squished in the backseat, though. Il Postino’s mom left me a gift at the their house. She’s such a sweetheart. It was a tea collection complete with a jar of honey and an adorable beehive-shaped wooden honey-stick thing. Perfect for this gloomy weather we’ve been having!

I was in the middle of taking pictures of my favorite munchkin with my new camera when my dad texted me that I had a package at the house. Who would send me a package in the mail? And an even bigger question—since when does my dad know how to text message? I texted my sister and asked her if she sent me anything. She said she didn’t, but that I should go to the house and see what it is. I wondered if Skokie had sent me something since he asked me for my address the weekend before, but the last thing I remember him buying me was a Costco hot dog for my birthday six years ago. Haha. Not likely. I hadn’t seen the BFF since before Christmas, so I told myself I would just check it later.

Half an hour goes by and Shi texts me, “GO HOME.” The girls surprised me at my house with a “Nothing Bundt Drama” red velvet cake from Nothing Bundt Cakes! Are those bitches trying to tell me something? Haha. I love, love, love these girls.

And so the universe decided to kick us while we’re down and make it rain the whole week.

I love you, Mark Sanchez, but my San Diego Chargers are gonna kick your beautiful ass today. BOLTS, BABY!

We all fall for them. Pricks are spontaneous, unpredictable and fun—and then we’re surprised when they turn out to be pricks.

Run Into Flowers:

To one of my best friends and cousins, Mayan, Happy Happy Birthday! No one else can foretell the future like you do, do graphic design like you do, attract cholos the way you do, or wear bathing suit bottoms like you do. I love you!

Slowly, But Shirley:

Heart twins…

It’s just how we roll =)

No one knows my heart like you do, love! Happy Birthday Mayan! Love you!

Man, I was thinking about unrequited love. I figure it’s best to just walk that shit off. Find someone else to be excited about. It’s like if you love ice cream but your ice cream man friend won’t give you any. Maybe he’s got a good reason. It cuts into profits. Who knows? But he likes you as a friend and wants to hang out anyway. It drives you crazy to hang out with that dude, even if he’s being reasonable from his point of view. So don’t hang out with him. What, you ONLY like ice cream? It’s ice cream or nothing? Don’t be an asshole. Learn to love donuts.

Anthony: So I was talking to this guy I know who went to your high school…
mayanrocks: What’s his name?
Anthony: He’s just some Mexican guy. Anyway, I asked him if he knew you and he said no, so I asked him if he knew Pam and he said that he did. I told him that you were Pam’s sister and he said, "Wait… Does Pam’s sister have really big boobs?"
mayanrocks: Seriously WTF! Who is he?
Anthony: You don’t need to know his name. Just know that you have really big boobs.

Because I didn’t know that before??? Thanks for nothing, Antho. I love that people don’t remember my name, but they remember my breasts. Eyes up, boys.

Is it weird that Il Postino’s mom gave me a leopard print body pillow for Christmas? How does that woman know I’ve been sleeping alone? A boyfriend arm pillow would’ve been more obvious, but I’m picking up what she’s putting down!

Between the holidays and moving, I didn’t have time to make a Christmas wish list like I usually do. My birthday is in a few days, so I’m posting one anyway! As I was making my list, this 13-year-old asks me, “Do you REALLY think your friends are gonna buy you this stuff? Most of it costs over $200!” Shut it, kid! It’s called a “wish” list. Not a “things-I-can-afford-to-buy-myself” list. I mean, seriously… what do kids learn in junior high these days? I could really use more practical stuff like gift cards to Target, Walmart, Costco or Arco… but where’s the fun in that? On to the list…

• The Kate Laptop Bag (Black)
  According to Shi, I don’t be knowin’ about protection! I need to stop throwing my MacBook Pro around.
• KitchenAid 5-Quart Artisan™ Stand Mixer (Onyx Black)
  I’m pretty sure I bake enough cupcakes to warrant a $300 stand mixer.
• Coach Soho Patent Satchel Handbag (Silver/Purple)
  I wanted this bag years ago, but I don’t think they make it anymore. I recently saw it again on eBay.
• Canon PowerShot SD780 (Black) Thanks, Pammie!
  I lost my digital camera in the Great Purse Disaster of 2005 and it has never been replaced.
• Pinzon Sheet Set (Plum/Queen)
  They match my gorgeous Simply Vera Wang City Night Comforter Set.
• Coach Madison Op Art Sateen Wristlet (Silver/Black)
  My mom always says I’d lose my vagina if it wasn’t attached to my body. A purse is no different.
• Bose SoundDock (Black)
  I listen to my “Karaoke” playlist everytime I shower, and it’s probably not a good idea to have my laptop in the bathroom with all that steam.

• The Beatles: Rock Band (Wii)
  I’ve been listening to The Beatles since I was in the womb and I can rock the mic’ to any of their songs!
• The Beatles LOVE Show – Cirque du Soleil
  I’ve always said that I want someone to fly me to Vegas to watch The Beatles LOVE Show for the third time (it could never be enough) and stay the night at some fancy hotel. Can somebody make that happen already???
• Wilton Cake Decorating Class at Michael’s
  It’s hard to believe, but my cupcakes could get cuter.

• San Diego Restaurant Week (Dinner)
  I’m all about yummy food with good friends. Or with yummy boys. Whatevs.
• Deep Tissue Massage Thanks Pammie, Chel and Shi!
  I’d get a massage every night if I could afford it. I’ve gotten one at The Knot Stop, but I heard Chiropractique was good, too. Or you could just give me a personal massage. No happy endings, though—it’s my birthday, not yours.

I had dinner and drinks at Benihana last night with Frank, Jay, Liz, Josie and Nancy. The food was SO good and the company even better. I couldn’t stop laughing with Josie over there talking about vagina wigs and Frank telling me how I should eat a cherry tomato. LOL. One Passionate Pearls martini, two glasses of Benihana punch and three sake shots later, I was too drunk to realize how much this fun was costing me. Haha. It was worth it. More pictures here.

I have six months to find a date fit into my bridesmaid dress for Chel and Flex’s wedding. A dress that I purposely ordered three sizes too small. It’s only day one of my diet and I’m miserable. Probably from all the food I didn’t eat. And all the Coke I didn’t drink. And the migraine I’ve had since I got home from work. I’ll have to keep reminding myself that “nothing tastes as good as thin feels” whenever I get the sudden urge to sit around and eat sticks of butter from different lands. It’s gonna be a long six months.

You don’t alter Vera Wang to fit you. You alter yourself to fit Vera.

It took six friends and five days to put one year into twelve boxes and fourteen trash bags. Thanks a heap to Pammie, Shi, Flex, Errol, Jay, Frank and Will for helping me move in the rain! Rest in peace, my beautiful bookcase. I’m sorry you were damaged beyond repair when we tried to squeeze you into my freakishly small storage space.

NOTE TO SELF: Pizza and beer AFTER my friends move my things next time. And not during the Holiday Bowl. And not on the one day it rains. And maybe invest in some furniture pads. “Protection? She don’t know nothin’ about that!” Haha. Boo whore.

A lot of shit went down in this place. Attention must be paid.

Oh, I paid 😉 As Shi said, if these walls could talk, we’d pay good money to shut them up!

Since Pammie went back up to the OC, there’s no one here to shout, “Eye on the prize, Mayan! Eye on the prize!” and keep me focused on packing up my apartment. Shi came over to help me pack, but we ended up going out for pho and watching Sex and the City: The Movie on HBO for the eleventh time instead. I’ve decided to further postpone my packing and fit one final blog in from Parkway Drive.

I’ve been living alone for a year now, and these are the things I’ve learned:

1. Dishes don’t clean themselves.
2. Neither do toilets.
3. I hate living above the pool.
4. I love living above the laundry room.
5. Only shop at Costco for non-perishables. Toilet paper. Bottled water. Red Vines. Even if you think you can eat twelve apples before they spoil, you can’t.
6. Having no air conditioning in the summer will make you want to punch a baby.
7. The library has free air conditioning. And free wi-fi.
8. Sheer white curtains in the bedroom are no bueno if you like sleeping past sunrise.
9. It’s possible to kill a cactus.
10. You can lose a boyfriend, an eye, and/or five hours of your life over the assembly of Ikea furniture.
11. I love having my friends over.
12. I hate cleaning up after them.
13. I love walking around in my chones after all my friends have gone home.
14. Two boxes of cotton swabs will last you an entire year. Spend the few extra dollars for Q-tips®. Your ears will thank you.
15. Sometimes you have to sacrifice your $20 salon shampoo for HBO and Cinemax.
16. Premium cable, phone and internet costs me $150 a month. Don’t take it for granted if you’re getting it for free at your mom’s house.
17. Don’t get shanghai’d into getting a newspaper subscription, even if it’s for your local little league. You will end up having to dispose of 84 unopened newspapers hiding in your linen closet when it’s time to move out.
18. Spending a few hundred dollars on luxury bedding is totally worth it.
19. Just because you live alone and can have strange men over at all hours of the night doesn’t mean you should.
20. I still lock the bathroom door behind me when I shower, even if I’m alone.
21. I watch too much Criminal Minds and CSI by myself.
22. Don’t regret never making friends with your shirtless neighbor who’s always grilling steaks by the pool. I know I do.
23. Spare keys to your apartment should be given out sparingly.
24. I hate packing and moving more than I hate my ex. And that’s saying something.
25. Save a little money from each paycheck. That way, if your boss unexpectedly gives you the week after Christmas off unpaid, you won’t be forced to pack up your overpriced apartment and move your things into storage while you look for a cheaper place to live—Not that I would know anything about that.

I forgot how much I loved this song until I heard it again watching Ray and Chubbs play Guitar Hero World Tour. Enjoy.

Coldplay – “Shiver”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/shiver.mp3]

From the moment I wake to the moment I sleep
I’ll be there by your side just you try and stop me
I’ll be waiting in line just to see if you care
Oh, did you want me to change?
Well, I changed for good
And I want you to know that you’ll always get your way
I wanted to say…
Don’t you shiver?

I’m moving out of my apartment and abandoning my clear obsession with espresso furniture. Anyone interested in buying some of it? Everything comes fully assembled, if that helps sway your decision at all—I’ve known couples who have almost broken up over the assembly of furniture. Just sayin’.

LoveSac MovieSac with Espresso Plush MicroSuede Cover

• Price: $200 (retails for over $600)
• Condition: Like new. No curious stains, rips, or smells. Smoke-free home.
• Diameter: 5 ‘
• Weight: 45 lbs
• Features: MovieSacs are big enough for two, yet small enough for most rooms. Whether you cry alone to chick flicks while eating bonbons, or cuddle up with your honey, sharing pillows and popcorn, you’ll be glad it comes with a removable, washable cover to protect against any mid-movie messes. These Sacs are easy to handle, easy to move, easy to take to the drive-in, and easy to clean up when finished. Unfortunately, the only thing about the MovieSac that is not easy is deciding who you will share it with. The MovieSac is for movie-lovers.

Espresso Desk and Chair SOLD!

• Price: $60 (retails for $100)
• Condition: Like new
• Dimensions: 47.4 x 19.5 x 30.2 H ” (desk)
• Weight: 60 lbs

Espresso Dresser SOLD!

• Price: $100 (retails for $190)
• Condition: Like new
• Features: Extra roomy, smooth-running drawers with pull-out stop
• Dimensions: Width: 63 ” / Depth: 18 7/8 ” / Height: 30 3/4 “
• Weight: 146 lbs

Fabric Triptych Wall Art

• Price: $20
• Condition: Like new
• Features: Fabric was cut and hand-stretched over wooden frames
• Dimensions: Each panel is 20 x 20 x 3/4 “

SpongeBob SquarePants – “Don’t be a Jerk (It’s Christmas)”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/spongebobxmas.mp3]

Don’t be a jerk, it’s Christmas!
When others are talking, never interrupt
Don’t put people down or leave the toilet seat up
It’s the time for family and holly and turkey
‘Tis the season to be jolly, not jerky

I made chocolate peanut butter cupcakes for Kristin’s birthday last night. It took me three trips to the grocery store—I don’t know where my head’s been lately. I had too much vodka fun at her birthday party. It’s a good thing my coworkers were too distracted by the leftover cupcakes I brought them to notice all that fun seeping through my pores this morning.

Shi: How do you like your eggs?
mayanrocks: in a poke
Shi: Of course you do!
mayanrocks: egg in a poke is an egg fried in the middle of bread, cochina
Shi: I thought it was something else… Everything’s always gotta be nasty with you!

Happy 29th birthday, Pammie! No one looks out for me like you do. If anyone ruined your birthday, I would ruin their life. I’m glad you loved our birthday surprise!

Things just keep going. We didn’t talk about anything heavy or light. We were just there together. And that was enough.

Il Postino and I dated on and off until he broke my heart last winter. He didn’t talk to me for eight months afterwards. He brought a new girl home for Thanksgiving. And the past two times he has contacted me, she just happened to be out of town.

But when I’m with him, I can’t seem to remember any of that.

He took me to see the meteor shower late last night. He picked me up at my apartment and we carried on as if those gaps between our visits didn’t exist. We got to the beach and were literally the only ones there. Maybe the weekend rain had scared everyone off. We lay the blanket on the sand under a patch of sky that wasn’t covered in clouds and waited… I was cozy in his jacket and gloves, with my head resting on his pillow. Michael Jackson songs played on his iPhone while we talked about the movies we had last seen—something we always used to do together. He told me I would like “Leap Year.” I overlooked that he had seen all of these movies with someone else. He said he would be satisfied if he saw twenty-six shooting stars and asked me how much I’d be happy with. I told him that I couldn’t think of a number, but I would just know when the time came. Being there with him was enough for me. I counted thirteen shooting stars and made a handful of wishes before we left. It started raining on the drive home. We both had work in the morning. I didn’t expect him to stay, but he stayed. I noticed that he always sleeps on the right side of the bed. He reached for my hand and closed his fingers over mine. I asked him if he was seeing anyone. He said that he wasn’t. That they were just friends. That they were never a couple. I wanted to believe him. We talked about why I was moving. We talked about his family. He said that his youngest sister has been mad at him since he moved out. I told him that she just misses him. I fell asleep to the rise and fall of his chest as he slept. He stayed with me till morning. And then he left.

If he wanted to be with me right now, he would be with me. I can’t keep putting my life on hold every time he decides to make a cameo. His appearances aren’t without expectations, and I find myself searching for hidden meanings behind his every word and action. I think he doesn’t want to lose me… but he doesn’t want to keep me, either.

Rihanna – “Stupid in Love”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/stupidinlove.mp3]

They’re telling me let go
He is not the one
I thought I saw your potential
Guess that’s what made me dumb

Just had the last Waffle Wednesday of the year at mi casa. Good food and good friends. Until next year!

Cinematic Orchestra – To Build A Home
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/tobuildahome.mp3]

‘Cause I built a home for you, for me
Until it disappeared from me, from you

(image via weheartit)

(image via Le Love)

John Legend – “Everybody Knows”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/audio/everybodyknows.mp3]

And I hope one day you’ll see nobody has it easy
I still can’t believe you found somebody new
But I wish you the best… I guess

(image via lovebot)

She’s only the coolest 6-year-old I know. I had to make her some cool cupcakes:

Lykke Li – “Possibility”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/possibility.mp3]

So tell me when you hear my heart stop
You’re the only who knows
Tell me when you hear my silence
There’s a possibility I wouldn’t know

Late last night, Shi and I lay there on the beach bundled up in our sleeping bags and blankets awaiting the Leonid meteor shower. It made me think about the times my old friends and I would drive out to the mountains in Jamul and lay in the back of Gerald’s truck and watch for shooting stars. I really miss those days. Before yesterday, I could probably count on one hand how many shooting stars I had seen in my whole life. It was epic! I can’t wait for the Geminid shower next month.

I regret the way pain has taught me nothing.

He told me I needed a car wash. My car was always filthy back when we were dating, and I knew he was going to say something when he saw it today. I smiled because I still knew him, but it made me sad that he hadn’t changed. Neither have I, apparently. He hugged me goodbye and held me longer than he should have. Then he left.

He sent me a message a couple weeks ago saying that “we should talk sometime.” I reasoned he was just thinking about me because it was Halloween. We spent Halloween together last year, and he had just seen his niece whose costume I had sewn. Maybe he was lonely that day. He always does this. He says “we should talk,” but I know that he won’t call. And I won’t call. He’s the one who left me. And I never chase. So where does that leave us?

(image via weheartit)

Don’t call me past 11pm
It won’t happen again
It happened once
It happened twice
It happened three times
Maybe four times
Maybe five times
Maybe, maybe it happened six times
But it won’t happen a seventh time

I love us. Thanks for making this, Chel ♥

I woke up this morning face down in a hotel bathroom still wearing my Halloween costume. I also had bruises on my legs from falling down the stairs last night and eight missed calls, six text messages, two voicemails and one Facebook message alert from Il Postino. Sooo not the evening I had planned.

Clockwise from top left:

• Me and Liz in the only picture I took that night
• Pammie in her awesome shark hoodie. I broke my mom’s sewing machine making this, but it was worth it.
• Save a horse, ride a cowgirl! Jay becomes a woman every Halloween.
• Shirtle the Turtle… She sewed this herself, too.
• My favorite kindergartener, Lia, in the Hot Dog On A Stick costume I made her. Love this kid!
• Chel as Max from Where the Wild Things Are. She made this, too! I mean, how cool are we???

Happy birthday to the sweetest 13-year-old I know.

I realized today that I will never escape him. I met up with the BFF at her aunt’s house to go to dinner for her son’s birthday. I knew that Il Postino would be at work, so I wasn’t worried about running into him. But that’s all I seemed to do… without him even being there. With an extra kid in the BFF’s car, I ended up riding with Il Postino’s mom. His little sisters were supposed to be there, but they were running late as usual, so we had to go pick them up at the house. His old house. It was just me and his mom on the car ride there. She talked about him the whole time, saying how worried she was about him and that she didn’t know or trust his new friends. She said that she loved when he was dating me, because she trusted me and knew I was a good person. She apologized for going on and on (and on and on) about him. I mostly stayed quiet during the car ride. I hadn’t stepped foot in that house since I was with him almost a year ago. His grandpa told me that he missed my cupcakes. His sister was excited to show me her Halloween costume. We eventually made our way to the Spaghetti Factory for dinner. The BFF prefers the one in North County over the closer one downtown, so it was a long drive up. Time moved even slower with every mention of his name. I felt like I was in that car forever. During dinner, Il Postino’s sister said that he texted her that he was off work and waiting at their aunt’s house where we were going afterwards for birthday cake. I raised the second margarita I was on and told the BFF that I was going to need more of these if I was going to see him, half joking, but not really. When we got back to her aunt’s house, I saw his car parked outside and decided not to go up. As much as I love birthday cake, I wasn’t in the mood to deal with the awkward situation waiting for me upstairs in that tiny apartment. Not today anyway. I will always be friends with my BFF and Il Postino will always be her brother. I’ll have to figure out how to deal with that someday.

Happy 28th birthday, Chel! How adorbs are you in your mustache ring? We’re glad you loved our gift!

Happy 56th birthday to my pops. He’s been rockin’ the guitar since the 60s!

I’m a magnet for unavailable men. Physically unavailable. Emotionally unavailable. Is it too much to ask that you not be in a relationship before making a pass at me?

Meiko – “Boys with Girlfriends”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/boyswithgirlfriends.mp3]

I know better not to be friends with boys with girlfriends
Oh, I know better than that, I know better
You play the victim and I’ll be the bad guy
I know better than that, I know better

He let me drive his car today. Nobody ever lets me drive their car (with good reason). I picked him up and took off my seat belt so I could switch to the passenger side, but he said I could keep driving. He must’ve had a stroke or something, but I stayed in the driver’s seat. We got to the store and chose the most wobbly shopping cart ever. It filled the silence as we walked up and down the aisles, stopping to grab only the necessities off the shelves. “My,” he’d say. I’d look up to see other carts trying to get through and me just blocking the aisle while I stood there distracted by all the different laundry detergents. He took over driving the cart after that. We tested air fresheners for a while. “Do you like this one?” he’d ask. “Barf,” I’d say. “Try this one.” By the time he had decided on Freshmatic Morning Rain, we both smelled like the fragrance department at Penney’s. I didn’t care, though…I had a good time with him today. We’re so comfortable now, I almost forget about what happened between us over the summer. Almost.

I miss having someone to do everyday things with.

(image via ffffound)

How do I slow down?
I can’t relate to my heart now
I’ve thrown what I’ve known
Is enough of me out?
I’m running on empty
I’ve gotta find some way
To fumble right through this new heartache
It’s torn me apart
Oh, lovesick mistake
Turn me away

I went to see Erin McCarley at Soma last night with Chel and Shi. I think she is so amazingly talented and underrated. She reminds me of one of my favorite Stella Im Hultberg paintings, Until the Day—beautiful, but painfully sad.

(image via PaperTissue)

Don’t repeat chapters; the ending of the story will never change.

I saw him last night. He felt like home and I let him in, forgetting that he had broken my heart last winter. I wonder how many times we’ll say goodbye before we actually let go.

(image via daily post-its)

Sometimes you have to forgive people just because you want them back in your life.

Il Postino called me last night. I still recognized his phone number, despite having deleted it from my phone last year. He was over a thousand miles away for the reserves and the last person I ever expected to hear from. Eight months later, he apologized to me… I can’t remember the last time I slept this well.

This phrase has never bothered me more than it did today (maybe because it’s true).

(image via finallyseeing)

Watch 500 Days of Summer… It’ll change your life, I swear.

Lily Allen – “Who’d Have Known”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/whodhaveknown.mp3]

You said tomorrow would be fun
We could watch a place in the sun
I didn’t know where this was going
When you kissed me

I watched this in my film class and was inspired. Is it weird that I think it’s hot that J.J. Abrams knows what registration marks are?

Sara Bareilles – “Gravity”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/gravity.mp3]

Something always brings me back to you
It never takes too long
No matter what I say or do
I still feel you here ’til the moment I’m gone
You hold me without touch
You keep me without chains
I never wanted anything so much
Than to drown in your love and not feel your rain

We always have way more fun than it makes sense for us to be having 🙂

Ask Mayan about her banana bread.

Even though Jay made me tell this story six times in one night, I thought I would post this on the interwebs, so it never has to be repeated again!

Okay so I decided to bake some banana nut bread the day before everyone came over for ABDC night.. Have you ever had my banana nut bread? It fixes things in the universe FYI. I had enough batter for two loaves and only one pan, so I had to bake them one at a time…

The first one came out perfecto, but the second one… not so much:

I put it in the oven, fell asleep, and woke up the next day. True story. I have the petrified loaf in my cupboard to prove it. I was going to throw it away, but Jay insisted I save it so that I could look at it every now and then to remind myself that I’m not that cool.

Don’t think it was a mistake that I moved into the unit nearest to the only fire extinguisher in my apartment building.

mayanrocks: I can’t believe I did that. Can you believe it???
Chel: Actually… I can believe it.

Sad times.

I understand feeling as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places you didn’t know you had inside you. And it doesn’t matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join, or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends… you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he’ll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you’ll go somewhere new. And you’ll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.

Happy 28th birthday to the craziest biatch I know! No one knows my heart like you do. Thanks for EVERYTHING.

Pammie and I were lucky enough to get tickets to James Morrison’s sold-out show at the Belly Up in Solana Beach last night. I’ve been dying to see him since The Great Break-Up of 2006 when I had his album on constant rotation. He was well worth the wait!

Sometimes, it’s easier to say that you’re fine instead of having to explain all the reasons why you’re not.

EO: just know mayan
EO: you are a GEM
EO: like so super rare
EO: that when that guy finds you
EO: he’ll feel like he struck gold
EO: it’s puzzling to me
EO: how he could fuck up a great thing
EO: you be you
EO: you’re fan-fuckin-tabulous… know that also
EO: like i dont know anyone else that plays poker… and when it’s their turn… instead of saying “call”… they say “queen-jack!”
EO: lol!
mayanrocks: oh hell no

Do you know the most surprising thing about heartache? It doesn’t actually kill you. Like a bullet to the heart, or a head-on car wreck, it should. When someone you’ve promised to cherish forever says, “I never loved you,” it should kill you instantly. You shouldn’t have to wake up day after day after that, trying to understand how in the world you didn’t know.

I gave his jacket back today. I thought about keeping it at first…. but how many times do we need to go through this before he realizes that this isn’t what he wants? That I’m not what he wants? I can’t fight for him anymore.

I remember the night he gave it to me. I was at his house watching movies with him and his family when it started to rain. I sat and watched him from the couch while he looked for a jacket for me to wear out. He walked me down to my car and was kissing me in the rain when he said, “I feel like we’re in a movie.” I started taking off his jacket to give it back to him, and he told me to keep it. Every time someone would ask me about the air force jacket in the backseat of my car, I smiled to myself remembering that night and what he said to me.

I just can’t look at it anymore.

Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like ”Maybe we should be just friends” turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.

– Neil Gaiman

There are few things I love more than Sunday nights with him at the drive-in ♥

I try not to see him all the time to keep things fresh, but he’s been texting me and wanting to see me every day since we started things up again, and I can’t complain 🙂 He came over on Saturday and stayed most of the night, just he and I catching up on each other’s lives. I was going to stay home on Sunday, but he enticed me with his little sister’s fresh baked cookies. We watched a movie with the girls and he held my hand all night. He stayed the night on Monday, and I had the best sleep I’ve had in months. When he left in the morning, I told myself I wouldn’t see him the rest of the week. I don’t want him to get tired of me, because I can’t get enough of him. It’s silly to think this way, but I’ve been burned before, and I instated this “do not chase” policy years ago in order to protect my heart. He texts me that night and it’s movie night at his house. So I come over and watch movies with his mom and sisters again. Today, I told myself that I wasn’t going to see him. Too much homework. Not even gonna text him. But he texts me first. He asks me if I’m done with my homework yet. We’re texting back and forth and he’s telling me about work while I talk about school. He says that he’s making fun of his little sister’s chubby arms and she’s pissed at him. I tell him that if he ever makes fun of my arms, I will punch him in his throat! And that he should stop being a jerkface and apologize to his sister because that biatch is way skinnier than I am. He tells me that he said he was sorry and he doesn’t want to be a jerkface. And then he tells me, “You’re the right size. Don’t think like that…” I knew I kept him around for some reason 🙂 He tells me to hurry up and finish my homework so we could grab slurpees later. I love coke slurpees. And he knows it. So I scramble to get my homework done just so I can spend forty-five minutes with him and a coke slurpee before I pick my parents up from the airport. Le’sigh. I haven’t exercised in two weeks and he thinks I’m the right size. Even though my pants are feeling a bit snug today. He has ruined me…

I’m in love with my Illustration class at the Art Institute. For our last assignment, we had to create an illustration based on an inspirational quote of our choice. This was my end result.

Update: Prints of this illustration are now available in my Etsy shop! They are 11″ x 17″ and professionally printed by digital press on 100 lb. paper gloss.

There comes a point in your relationship when you’re comfortable enough to let them see your true colors. I believe I reached that point last night. Yesterday, I worked from home, so I didn’t bother to shower (don’t judge me) and I ordered in Chinese. As I opened my container of moo shoo pork, I got a phone call from Il Postino. He asked me about my day and sounded like he was outside somewhere, so I asked him if he was driving. He said he was walking home from his friend, Ryan’s, house. That’s at least a few miles away from his place, so I told him to wait for me because I live down the street and I could drive him home.

After I hung up the phone, I freaked out a little. He had never seen me without having showered first, unkempt in my sweat pants with no makeup on. I don’t get all dolled up when we’re just going to the movies, but I definitely don’t look like I just rolled out of bed. I assured myself that I was just gonna pick him up and drop him off at home before he even had a chance to realize that I was all hobo status. No big deal. So I picked him up and we arrived at his house five minutes later. I left the car running and he said, “You gonna come up?” How could I say no? I love spending time with him too much. I ended up staying for a few hours just hanging out with him and his family. I soon forgot about how crusty I felt when he held my hand the same, kissed me the same, and still kept his arms around me as we watched TV on the couch together. I don’t know why I bothered spending so much time getting ready before… he likes me just the way I am.

I went to the movies with Il Postino last night. It was our first REAL date. We’ve seen plenty of movies together, but we would always meet at the theater or at his house first. We’ve gone to dinner together, but we would always meet at the restaurant. He said that he wanted to pick me up. I told him to call me instead of ringing the doorbell when he got to my house. My family has known about him since April, but they’ve never met him. He just recently came back into my life (for the third time) and I wasn’t ready for introductions just yet. I didn’t tell him any of that, but he knew. He said he would just meet them next time and that he would park three blocks away for me. Haha. He called me when he was outside, and my mom rushed to the front door. She seemed more excited than me! My dad just happened to be walking the dog outside, too. I practically jumped into Il Postino’s car and told him to go, go, go. He was okay with it, though. At least I hope so. I met his family before I met him, so it’s different.

I love that he took me out for ice cream before the movie. I love that he found out that I hated strawberry ice cream and left it off the banana split we shared, even though it’s his favorite. I love that he knows that I only eat red candy and gave me all the red Sour Jacks throughout the movie. I love that we missed the showing at the theater in our neighborhood, so we had to drive all the way to La Jolla to watch the movie… because on the long drive home, I love that he held my hand in the car. Things are different this time. He’s different.

I had such a good time last night. I wasn’t expecting to celebrate Halloween, but Il Postino wanted to take me out. Yes—he’s back in my life. Again. I spent the whole summer without him, just focusing on myself for once. I mean, I lost forty pounds! By losing all that weight, I thought I would somehow gain a better life. But I still thought about him. I guess he still thought about me, too.

More Halloween photos here.

Charlotte Sometimes – Toy Soldier
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/toysoldier.mp3]

Take it back
All I’ve ever said
All the things I never really meant
Take me back I want my toy soldier
It’s okay if we play pretend
I promise to forget you’re plastic
And on my shelf
Let’s fake romance and I’ll be someone else

Last night, I heard his name and the word “girlfriend” in the same sentence.

We’ve always been on again, off again, on again, off again… I guess I just figured that somewhere down the road we would be on again. Again.

He turned around and looked right at me and said nothing, not even hi. It was as if the months we had spent together, the times I spent loving him just weren’t important, as if they never happened.

I didn’t expect to see him today. I sat there on the couch as he stood in the doorway in his military uniform, just waiting. He was there to pick up his belt that he had left there the night we had both slept over. He didn’t say a word to me, but his silence spoke volumes.

Grocery shopping is probably one of my favorite things to do. It’s something I usually do alone and after midnight. I think that I purposely go without making a list first just so I can stay there longer. Pammie hates grocery shopping, so she especially hates grocery shopping with me. Whenever she finds herself at the grocery store with me, she says, “We are NOT getting a cart, Mayan.” Psh. Like not having a cart is gonna shorten my grocery trip. Anyway, today I was cooped up in the house watching Gossip Girl CNN. Pammie had already gone home to the OC, Rocky was busy being dramatic and sighing/tossing/turning on the tile floor, trying to keep cool in this unbearable summer heat. Alicia was with Ray at the fair watching War sing her all-time favorites (Lowrider and Cisco Kid LOL). Il Postino had not called, of course (le’sigh). I figured I could go to the grocery store and find something to buy. Even though I had just gone to Costco yesterday… and Albertson’s the day before.

I moved quickly past the cookie aisle so I wouldn’t stop and drool over all the calories I shouldn’t be eating. My graceful ass pushed the cart directly into the shelf, causing a few boxes of chocolate-drizzled rice cakes to fall on me. As I was picking up the boxes, for some reason at that moment, I thought about Ken from Pat & Oscar’s in Del Mar. I ate there once years and years ago. I remember everything about that day. I was wearing my baby blue New Found Glory shirt (that I’ve since retired) and actual shoes with laces. If you know me, you know I rock the Reef flip flops all year round. Hey, it’s San Diego… you can get away with that here. It mostly started because I’m one of those people who’s always late, so I never put my shoes on till I get to my destination and that day was no different. I was sitting on the curb outside Pat and Oscar’s tying my shoelaces and my ex-boyfriend was standing there with his arms crossed wondering why I didn’t tie my shoes anytime during the half hour drive to Del Mar and saying, “You shouldn’t be allowed to wear shoes with laces. We should get you some velcro shoes, Mayan.” I opted for flip flops instead. Anyway, I digress.

We’re eating dinner with some friends and I notice this really tall, really cute waiter named Ken carrying a huge stack of plates. He’s like whoa.. whoa.. and the plates are on the floor. I was watching the whole time and I started laughing, and he noticed me laughing and flashed an embarrassed smile my way. We were almost done with dinner and I mused out loud, “I think I want a cookie for dessert.” The cute waiter guy is standing nearby and walks up to me and was like, “You want a cookie?” and I’m like, “Ummm, yeah” and I get up to go get one at the counter and he’s like, “I’ll go get it for you” and I’m like, “Okay,” so it takes me like five minutes to dig through my purse for some change for the cookie (sidenote: in re-telling this story, I’m realizing how much I have NOT changed since then), and the guy comes back with the cookie and I hand him the money and he’s like, “Oh, don’t worry about it…” and I was like ok what. I never forgot him. Stuff like that just never happens to me, and that is probably why I remember it so well. I guess i’m just waiting for another Ken to give me a free cookie. Or at least help me pick up these boxes of chocolate-drizzled rice cakes that almost killed me. Someone to just do something nice for me… Gosh!

I always get involved with the same jerks. My therapist says that it’s not THEM, it’s ME. I can only blame myself for choosing the jerks over the nice guys. And by “therapist” I mean The Love Doctor from Channel 933. It’s the only thing on during my morning commute! I don’t know what it is about assholes that attracts a nice girl like me. Maybe it’s the sarcasm. Or the biting wit. Who knows, really. All I know for sure is how it always ends up. And that’s with me grocery shopping alone after midnight. Yet I still involve myself with these jerk offs. Some things never change, I guess… especially me.

So I’m in the middle of my screen printing class downtown when I get a text message that says, “How was your newsletter this week? I heard your work mentioned on the radio.” I don’t know whether I should thank my boss or strangle her. I knew it was Il Postino, even though I deleted his number a month ago after he was a complete jerk to me. He’s the only one who would ask about my newsletters. I like to keep work and the rest of my life separate, so I don’t really talk about it with anyone. But I talked about it with him… I text him back and tell him that we’re doing a promotion with Channel 933. He texts me back and asks me if I have any plans this week. This guy. If he thinks that he can just walk back into my life after treating me like shit, then he is sadly correct mistaken. I ignored his text, undecided whether I should respond or not, and started the long trek back to my car (courtesy of the Padres game). He called when I finally got to my car fifteen minutes later. And I answered. Le’sigh. We haven’t talked on the phone since that week we both got caught up in the magic that is Disneyland. There were no awkward silences and he was actually open about things… He talked about work, the air force, the family dog who recently passed, the two birds they still had. I talked about what has been going on in my life. Before I knew it, an hour and a half had passed. Talking to him makes me miss him. Who knows where this will lead…

I feel completely violated… Can I make it through one day without someone touching my butt? So I’m swaying my hips to Kanye last night, and this Mexican guy behind me is standing pretty close, but I’m like whatevs, we had floor tickets, so everyone was all kinds of close. But then I feel this guy’s hands on my hips and moving down towards my ass, and I’m like whoa, whoa, WHOA! I grabbed his wrists and pushed them away… I’m just not that kind of girl, no matter what you’ve heard on the streets! So anyway, the next song comes on and I’m still swaying and I feel his hands on me yet another time… and I’m like, Thisss bitch. His junk is on my ass and his hands are moving down my sides… WTF. I push him off me one more time. I should’ve punched him in his throat, but he was such a stoner (he smoked out my friend between ass grabs) and I was just trying to have a good time… Then something weird happened. I’m still dancing during Kanye’s set, and I feel his now familiar hands on my hips again, but this time he reaches for my hand and tries to entwine my fingers in his. What are we, on a fucking date or something?

Seriously, can I just find a decent guy who doesn’t feel me up without asking first? Can I? Can I?

…Can I?

Forget about all the reasons why something may not work. You only need to find one good reason why it will.

I spent the weekend at Disneyland with my favorite Mexicans for Alicia’s 27th birthday. It was truly magical 🙂 Happy birthday, babe!

Eric: I saw a movie this weekend that I think you’d really like.
mayanrocks: yeah? which one…
Eric: Moolade
mayanrocks: i do like cows. and lemonade. is that what it’s about?
Eric: Sort of. It’s a manifesto against the genital mutilation of girls in Africa.
mayanrocks: ok what.

…

Apparently, I’m putting some kind of vibe out there that makes people think I’d enjoy the mutilation of African genitals.

I’ve come to realize that I am useless in emergency situations.

I thought about it when I went biking downtown with my friends the other weekend… Trace and I were trailing behind, talking, and I was pedaling too fast. I kept bumping her tire on accident, and I was scared that I was going to make her fall, so I just let go of the handle bars and dove into the grass nearby. It didn’t occur to me until I was face down in the grass that all I had to do to avoid falling was put my feet down. Duh. God forbid, I blow a tire on the freeway. Yesterday, I experienced a far more serious emergency and pretty much confirmed my inability to function during a crisis. I was at work and it was almost time to leave. I heard this moan followed by a loud bang, so I got up from my seat and looked over my cubicle thinking my co-worker had fallen out of his chair. Instead, I found him hunched over his desk having a seizure and staring directly at me, helpless. I just stood there in horror, unable to move or call for help. Fortunately, my other coworkers did more than just stand there like idiots and were able to get an ambulance there within minutes. You should never hang out with me alone. I will obviously be of no help to you in an emergency.

In all this hoopla, I almost forgot that I left my iPod at the gym over the weekend. And that I had to buy another iPod—my third in three years (the first one destroyed in the great purse disaster of 2005). I forgot that I lost 6,000 songs. And that all my pictures from Hawaii were on that iPod. And that someone is out there listening to my Baby Makin’ playlist and looking at unedited photos of me in a bathing suit.

Some guy came up to me at a bar tonight and said, Haven’t I seen you before at Dick’s Last Resort? I looked at my coworkers and thought, Is he serious right now? Maybe if I had been a bit more drunk I wouldn’t be at home in my pajamas blogging about this.

This is pretty much the closest I’m gonna get to an engagement ring for a while:
http://www.emitations.com/marion.html

I miss Hawaii. The food. The beaches. The weather. The lomi lomi massages. The BOYS. Sure, I can eat kalua pig and spam musubi at any one of the L&L joints in San Diego. And sure, I can pick up entire loaves of taro bread at any of the Asian supermarkets in San Diego. And sure, I can go to any beach I want in San Diego. And fine, the weather is pretty much the same in San Diego most of the year. But do we have Hawaiian boys over here? Maybe. But it’s not the same. The more I travel out of San Diego, the more I’m convinced I’ve exhausted my stay here. They closed my favorite dive bar earlier this month, and if that’s not a sign that I should get out of here, I don’t know what is. Hawaii is so laid back. I consider San Diego pretty laid back. At least more laid back than LA or NYC. But Hawaii is ridiculously laid back. Like telling us to meet in front of the hotel at nine in the morning to be driven to the moped rental store and us showing up ten minutes early and waiting twenty five minutes for someone to arrive kind of laid back. And I like to consider myself a laid back, no worries kind of girl. Even when we were transferring boats to go from jet skiing to parasailing, we were hurrying to take our life jackets off and cross over and the HOT! parasailing instructor said, “There’s no rush, darlin’… This is Hawaii.” That was probably the exact moment I decided I wanted to marry that man stay there forever. Yet here I am… blogging from the Valley. Hawaii was just so amazing. I plan to revisit again and again in this lifetime. My vacation couldn’t have been any more perfect. I miss the girls already. I miss trying to sleep through their symphony of snoring (okay, maybe they miss trying to sleep through my snoring). I miss waking up to Shi singing “Morning’s here.” I miss Chel sticking her fish eye camera in my face. I can’t wait till our next trip together. Until then, it’s back to the real world! Boo whore.

The real world ain’t so bad, though… Since I’ve been back, I’ve received an unexpected promotion at my second job where I’ve been a graphic design intern for the past couple of months. All of a sudden, I found myself putting my two weeks in at AAA. I’m sad to be leaving, but I just can’t pass this promotion up! Starting next month, I’ll have nights and weekends off. I won’t know what to do with myself. I suppose I could go to the gym and lose all that weight I planned to lose BEFORE going to Hawaii. And all that weight I gained while I was IN Hawaii. Or I could just have more time to blog about how much I want to lose weight while snacking on these chocolate covered macadamia nuts I brought home from Hawaii…

So my birthday kicks off this weekend followed by a week in Hawaii with the girls. In preparation, I’ve exercised twice a day drank several Coldbusters to make sure this cold I got over New Years doesn’t ruin my vacation. I’ve also made my pearly whites more pearly, gotten my eyebrows waxed, made an appointment for a pedicure… You know, normal girly things that girls do to make them feel nice (and make boys notice their niceness)… The rest of the girls I’m going to Hawaii with all 1up’d me and gave up carbs and exercised daily and oh, did I mention they all got motherfucking BRAZILIANS! What’s a brazilian, you ask? No, it’s not Tom Brady’s ladyfriend. Let me spell it out for you… It’s P-A-I-N. I popped a vicodin or two (or five) to ease the peroxide-induced pain of teeth whitening. I’m exaggerating zero percent. What would it take for me to numb the pain of waxing where the sun don’t shine? A fucking qualude? That’s a level of sexy I’m not ready for. Most (if not all) of my girl friends are in a relationship. Including my one lesbian friend. I’ve found that as a single girl you can go in one of two directions… You can either wax your nether regions, wear makeup just to get the mail outside and follow a strict diet to a better skinnier you. OR you can take advantage of the fact that nobody sees your legs anymore and let a day or two go by without shaving, eat all the carbs you want because sandwiches make you happier than any man ever could, and forgo the expensive perfume you used to wear for a cheaper bar of Ivory soap. I’ve elected to go the latter since my break up almost two years ago (has it really been that long?). Maybe I’ll reconsider becoming that hairless waif when I don’t enjoy having my bed all to myself anymore.

The Good

• Seeing Muse headline KROQ’s Almost Acoustic Christmas in LA. The balloons are always my favorite part. More Muse vids from the show here and my own vids of the rest of the bands here.
• Getting the best Christmas presents EVER. Pammie bought us both a cooking class with Sam the Cooking Guy (pre-Cinco de Drinko with margaritas, of course!). Alicia bought me a ton of things I love: a Jamba Juice card loaded with enough credit to get me a week’s supply of original sized White Gummi Bears, crushed red pepper in a portable seasoning shaker to carry in my purse because I like it spicy, moisturizing gel gloves from Bath & Body Works that I’ve been eyeballing for years and mint-infused lip balm because I’m all about moist lips and fresh breath. Shi got me a gift certificate for Yogurt World (I profess my love of froyo to anyone who will listen). Chel and Jay both got me cupcake recipe books (though I’m convinced it was more for Jay’s benefit than my own). My WISH LIST is still up for my birthday in two weeks!
• Snagging an internship at Emitations where I browse celebrity gossip sites and magazines to see what jewelry the stars are wearing. I’m basically getting paid for something I already do on my own time! Like this. And this.
• Getting our Rockband on at Errol’s house.
• Gerald coming home for the holidays.

The Bad

• My mom having an unexpected surgery and me having to put up her Christmas tree by myself. I’m insanely obsessive-compulsive at times… I had to make sure that all the ornaments were evenly spaced out and that all the colors were balanced around the tree and that no like colors were touching. This went on for HOURS, and I was so sick with myself throughout the entire decorating process. I clearly need help.
• Working two jobs and having no time to do much else.
• Going downtown and getting so piss drunk that everyone in the car was vomiting (except for the driver, of course… poor Gerald! This was only the second time I’ve heard him yell in ten years—the first time being the day he taught me how to drive a stick shift in his beloved truck… his clutch has since been replaced). We walked ten blocks from Landlord Jim’s to the car and I ended up with a skinned knee and a bleeding puncture wound about the diameter of a stiletto heel in my foot—I was wearing flats, so it wasn’t self-inflicted. But I don’t remember anyone stepping on my foot, either. It could’ve happened during one of the multiple times I slipped and fell on the walk back to the car. Yeah, it was one of those nights.

The Ugly

• Getting smoked salmon as a white elephant gift at my family Christmas party. My relatives are pretty vicious when it comes to this game, but I had it all planned out. I formed an alliance with Chel and Pammie so that if anyone stole the gifts we wanted, another one of us could steal it back. I ended up picking the last number and by the time it was my turn, every gift I wanted was locked and couldn’t be stolen. I ended up taking the last unopened gift, and it’s been rightfully submitted to the Bad Gift Emporium.

No time to blog lately. School is kicking my ass. Maroon 5 show last weekend. Met the band. In love with Jesse… And mostly because he resembles Milo Ventimiglia since he cut his hair (which is kind of unfair, really). I used to be into their original drummer, Ryan, and even though I’m all about Jesse now, I’ll always have a soft spot for Adam. It’s like deciding which New Kid on the Block is your favorite all over again, Jordan or Joey (or Donnie, if you’re that kind of girl). Anyway, the show was amazing. We were sitting close enough for Pammie to catch a guitar pick from The Hives and a drumstick from Alex Greenwald, the lead singer of Phantom Planet. It was the end of their tour, so they played a lot of fun pranks on each other. Luckily, I was able to get it all on video…

Here’s Maroon 5 performing “Won’t Go Home Without You” (more from the show here)…

Still amp’d from the show, I stayed up till four or so in the morning watching “The Office” with Jay—not the greatest idea since I had an early morning flight to catch. Jay stayed the night since he was taking me and Pammie to the airport. Pammie woke me up in a rush 45 minutes before our plane was supposed to take off. It all happened so fast. I just remember running around the house trying to get our shit together and making sure everything was locked/turned off and screaming Jay’s name every couple of seconds to make sure his ass was up. We were the last two people on the plane, but we made it…

Before I knew it, we were in Vegas. I ate at multiple buffets, watched the Beatles LOVE show again, watched the Ice show at the Riviera, gambled away $250 of my own money (plus $60 of Pammie’s money)… and then it was time go home. Pammie didn’t have Monday off, so she flew home to the OC early in the morning. My parents and I were supposed to catch a flight to SD around eleven. It was like a repeat of Saturday, with us running towards the terminal. Dropping off the rental car was an unbelievably lengthy process. You have to return it miles away from the airport and then catch a shuttle back to the airport with a bunch of other people who are all carrying an even bigger bunch of luggage with them. By the time we got back to the airport, through security and to our gate, the plane hadn’t boarded yet, so we thought we were okay. The flight ended up being oversold, so all the boarding passes had already been taken and we were told we’d be on standby for the next flight… which turned into the next flight… and the next flight… and the next… and even more flights. We were on standby for SEVEN FUCKING HOURS. I read half a book that I bought from the gift shop. Learned how to do Sudoku. Tried to enjoy a venti iced soy chai tea latte. Finally, around 6 o’clock (and about an hour past when I was supposed to be at work), I go up the the gate where the millionth oversold flight to SD is about to leave and tell the Southwest lady that my family and I have been on standby for seven fucking hours and ask her why we’ve had to wait so long for a flight. She tells me that we’re the first people on the waiting list and she isn’t sure why people have been let on the previous flights before us. I’m standing there going… WTF! Mate! And it turned out that a few people who had already picked up their boarding passes for the oversold flight about to leave didn’t show up to board, so we were able to get on that flight. Before I boarded the plane, I snatched the wait list from her hands, ripped it in half and said, “You fucking remember me forever!”

…except I did not say fucking. Actually, that entire last sentence is completely untrue.

I met Pammie at the Belly Up after midterms to catch the Rooney show. It’s been years since I saw them last, and they were as awesome as I remember them (if not better). The Redwalls opened and they were a nice surprise. Both bands remind me of the Beatles and you know how much I love the Beatles.

Here’s Rooney performing “Calling the World”…

I didn’t think to tape the Redwalls, but here’s a vid of them performing one of the songs they played last night, “Game of Love”…

You can check out the rest of the videos here.

mayanrocks: Why didn’t you get a blonde wig?
Jay: I wanted the drapes to match the carpet.