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???
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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!
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.
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.
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.
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
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?
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.
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.
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.
Kurt Halsey Cloud Bank
Because I need somewhere to put all those Sacajaweas I get from the vending machine at work. Price: $20.00
Available at Urban Outfitters .
Dooney and Bourke Hayden Bag
Because everytime I buy a bag I ask myself, "Will my polaroid camera fit in here?"
And I might have a tiny girl crush on Hayden Panettiere. Price: $500.00
Available at dooney.com.
Boyfriend Arm Pillow
Because I hate sleeping alone. Just kidding (about wanting the pillow, not the sleeping alone part). Price: $19.95
Available at whatonearthcatalog.com.
Pink Studio "Ira" Wedges (Size 8.5, Yellow)
Because they don’t match anything in my wardrobe. Price: $68.00
Available at emmapink.com and Mint in Hillcrest.
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”…
So I tried to log into this SDSU database that hosts all the images of the paintings I need to know for my midterm tomorrow. It wouldn’t let me access it from home and the online help desk wasn’t really helpful, so I went all the way back to school to try to access it from the library. I paid for parking, because I don’t have a parking pass—I usually take the trolley. After some help, I was able to get into the database and was told that I *could* access it from home… All I had to do was register. Ugh. I figured I would stay there and study since I was already there. So I’m saving all the images so I can squeeze them all on a few sheets of paper, since I’m just going to cut them out and make flashcards. I’m on a PC and it doesn’t have Photoshop on it, so I E-mail each individual image to myself, so that I can open them on a Mac nearby. I set up all my documents in Photoshop, and I go to print it and the printer isn’t working. I go to the help desk and they say their printers went down earlier, but they should be working on the PCs… but the PCs don’t have Photoshop. I ask them if they could print my document from their computer at the help desk. They say they can’t, but they can print the images from the database. It ends up being eleven pages instead of my condensed two. Whatever, I tell them. I’ll pay for it. At this point they ask to see my SDSU ID. They say it’s the only form of payment they accept and that I can put money on my ID card on the machine around the corner. I stick my ID into the machine and it says to insert cash for deposit. All I have in my wallet are five credit cards, a frequent frozen yogurt card and a couple Sacajaweas that I got as change back from the vending machine at work—don’t even get me started on that. I go back to the help desk and I’m like… So it only takes cash? They tell me I can go to an ATM at one of the markets around school… but they’re all closed right now because it’s ten o’clock at night. At this point I decide that I’ve wasted two hours of my life and $6 in parking and it’s time to go home. I hope I have better luck on my midterms tomorrow.
I just finished memorizing the titles, artists and dates of 75 paintings for part of just one of my midterms tomorrow. UGH! I’m such a procrastinator. I had an entire week off from school last week because of the fires, and instead of studying for my midterms, I baked some red velvet cupcakes, watched a concert at the Belly Up, taught myself how to knit (because I’m not enough of a spinster already), dyed Jay’s shorts Hooter-orange for his Halloween costume, changed my Myspace playlist… Le’sigh. I’ve vowed to start studying for finals early so that I’m not a stressed out biatch come December. I just want this week to be over with already…
Here’s a video from the Colbie Caillat show I went to…
I started this blog over the weekend bitching about the third parking ticket I received this year alone in the OC last week (the second in SD and the first in LA—it’s like I’m trying to be ticketed in every city). Now that San Diego’s going down in flames, it all seems so trivial. I can see one of the five fires burning around SD from my own backyard in the Valley. Besides having class canceled during the Cedar Fire of 2003, I’ve never really been affected by a fire until last night. I thought I’d be able to sit it out in the comfort of my own home like the last time, but the police pounded on our door around six o’clock and urged us to evacuate immediately. I didn’t realize how serious it was until I saw the flames rising above Mt. San Miguel towards my house on TV at my grandma’s apartment. A lot of my friends live in the same neighborhood, so I contacted them all to make sure they were okay, along with my relatives who had evacuated the fires in North County. Luckily, everyone was fine, but my relatives up north won’t find out if their houses were spared until they’re allowed to go back home later this week (along with nearly a million other displaced Californians). I was supposed to have two midterms, a project and a term paper due this week, but class has been canceled through the weekend… That doesn’t really make me feel much better about what’s happening here at home, though.
On a happier note, I finally booked our trip to Hawaii. Pammie, Shi, Chel and I are going to have an amazing time… The only thing I’m not looking forward to is all that exercise I have to do in order to be beach-ready by January. And all that yummy food I have to avoid over the holidays. And all those nights I’ll spend crying myself to sleep out of hunger. I mean… What.
Attention, unmarried people of America: You can splurge on a fancy new wrist watch without having to explain yourself. You can stay out till 3 a.m. without having to phone home. You can leave the toilet seat up. In fact, there are many, many ways that single life rocks, though you may forget that fact when your relatives are grilling you about settling down. Not only do you have the freedom to do anything you want—it’s also the best time in history to be flying solo. Want more specifics on why you should celebrate being single?
Reason #1: You have a better body. We’ve all been there—you get into a relationship, and suddenly you’re trying out new recipes all the time and cuddling instead of exercising. Well, things tend to get worse with marriage. A recent Cornell University study found that women generally gain five to eight pounds in the first few years of marriage and unhappily married women gain an average of 54 pounds in the first 10 years.For the unmarried, though, the motivation to stay slim remains: “Singles look at themselves through the eyes of others and want to be attractive to potential partners,” says Susan Davis, Ph.D., a clinical psychologist in New York City, “so they’re still ‘working on themselves.’” In short, being single is way better than any New Year’s resolution or exercise DVD to motivate you to stay in shape.
Reason #2: You’re more likely to achieve great things. It’s amazing what you can accomplish when you have the time, the quiet and the lack of familial responsibilities. In fact, your premarital motivation to excel in life may be biologically programmed. According to a study conducted at the London School of Economics and Political Scientists, male scientists who stay single longer peak in their careers later in life and tend to be more productive than their married counterparts. Researchers theorize that men, in general, may show off their talents to win the interest of women and then, once they’ve won a wife, get comfortable and do less. In fact, studies have shown that testosterone levels, which boost action, decrease after a man gets married and has children. So single folk should know they are primed to achieve—whether that means turbo-charging their careers or honing their rock-climbing skills—and get out there and work it!
Reason #3: You do less housework. You know that saying about a tree falling in a forest and there’s no one there to hear it? Well, if you leave a sock on the floor but there’s no one else there to see it, does it really need to be picked up? If you’re a single woman, you can contemplate deep questions like this one because you have more free time. According to one study published in the Journal of Marriage and Family, women do less housework when single than when married. Men, on the other hand, do more housework when unmarried (that’s probably because there’s someone picking up after them once they’re wed…). So the message here is for unmarried women to enjoy their less chore-filled life; fill those free hours with classes, good books, blabbing with friends—whatever makes you happy.
Reason #4: You can do what you want with your money—including keep it. Go ahead: Splurge on that pricey moisturizer or that obscenely large plasma TV you’ve been lusting after. You don’t have to justify your purchase to anyone but yourself. Once you mix money with marriage, though, things change—and fast. According to a survey by SmartMoney magazine, 40 percent of women and 36 percent of men have lied to their spouses about a purchase. “When you’re single, your finances are your own,” explains Phyllis Chase, a Los Angeles–based psychologist and co-host of the radio show Shrink Rap. “When you’re married, you have to deal with different styles of spending and saving, and you may take on your partner’s debt.”
Reason #5: You have better sex. Married couples may have more sex (approximately 98 times a year vs. singles’ 49), but singles have better sex. According to a recent study published in the British Medical Journal, married women are significantly more likely to report problems with their sex lives than single women. “People who are dating have better sex because it’s novel,” says Davis. “Married people have to relearn how to play. It’s natural for singles because that’s the nature of a courting relationship—they tease, they experiment, they explore.” Nature lends a helping hand, too. According to researchers at the University of Pisa in Italy, raging testosterone levels in both men and women makes the sex hotter during the first two years of a relationship. After that, other hormones take over—most notably, oxytocin, a bonding chemical, kicks in. While getting connected and comfortable is a positive step in a relationship, long-term lovers have to work harder to keep things hot in the bedroom. Singles, however, sizzle just the way they are.
Reason #6: You’re better rested and smarter. While snuggling up next to a warm body can be pretty fantastic, according to a survey conducted by the National Sleep Foundation, your bedmate can cause you to lose an average of 49 minutes of sleep per night. Sleeping two-to-a-bed just isn’t as restful as snoozing solo. Other studies confirm that singles generally get more rest—seven to eight hours of sleep a night—than marrieds, which enhances memory, mood and concentration, as well as allows your immune system to recharge.
Reason #7: You’re less depressed. Although the media often perpetuates the image of single people being down in the dumps, overall unmarried people tend to be happier than their married counterparts—if you’re a woman, that is.
Reason #8: You have better friendships. Significant others are a wonderful thing, no doubt, but friends count, too. And on that front, one study found that, when women get married and have children, they spend much less time with their friends—less than five hours a week, down from 14 hours. Singles, however, often have the greatest sense of friendship and community—which can actually decrease stress levels, according to researchers at UCLA. Here’s another way to look at this: “Singles don’t rely on just one person to meet their needs. You don’t automatically know who you’re going to spend Friday night with,” says Sasha Cagen, author of Quirkyalone: A Manifesto for Uncompromising Romantics. “The plus side is that you have a lot of different people in your life and potentially a greater sense of social possibilities.”
Reason #9: Your travel tales are enviable. Marrieds take the most vacations, dominating the market with 62 percent of all trips taken, but singles arguably go on more interesting trips. According to the Travel Industry Association of America, singles corner the adventure-travel market, engaging in activities like whitewater rafting, scuba diving and mountain biking. Being single and relatively footloose certainly allows you to expand your geographical—and personal—borders.
Reason #10: You know yourself—and what you want out of a relationship. You’re a better catch now than you were at 20. You may have signs of, ahem, experience etched on your face, but that’s OK because you’re more interesting and more self-aware. Not only have you grown as a person, but you’ve probably been through the ringer a few times in matters of love and now know what you want—and what you don’t.
And that’s a wonderful message: Your single self is great… and should you find the right person and decide to marry, you’re more likely to thrive in that stage of your life, too.
I hit a girl. We were in the pit waiting for the Killers to be up and I hit a girl. She was clearly wasted, pushing and punching her way through the mass of people in front of the stage. I heard this commotion of people yelling behind me as this girl started fighting her way to the front. She tried to get past my sister and began punching her from behind. This bitch. She tried to get in front of me next and was digging her elbows into my back, and that’s when the ghetto child who grew up on Deep Dell came out. I pushed her off me and smacked the bitch. I have never in my life hit someone. Well, hit someone and meant it. Sometimes I get excited and push you in all my excitement, but that’s different. I kind of surprised myself (and Pammie and Tin and Jay and Meehchelle). I’m a fucking sweetheart, but I can be a bitch on wheels when push comes to shove. Especially if you’re fucking with me when I’m about to watch the Killers!
ANYWAY. The rest of my weekend rocked! Street Scene was SUCH a disappointment last year because of the unexpected no-shows… But this year, MUSE headlined, and I cannot get over how AMAZING they were. Matthew Bellamy is a musical genius. Muse is the greatest band I’ve ever seen live, hands down. Even Pammie was in the pit with me, jumping up and down and pumping her fists to lyrics she hadn’t heard before! They were EPIC. You should really do yourself a favor by going to one of their shows if you ever get the chance. They’ll be headlining Vegoose with Rage Against the Machine at the end of October, so try and make it out there if you can. You won’t be disappointed!
Here’s Muse performing “Butterflies and Hurricanes” at the show…
The Killers really improved from the last time we saw them at Street Scene a couple years ago and shortly after in LA. I loved their music back then, but their live performance was a little boring. They were awesome this time around… Here they are performing “Jenny was a Friend of Mine”…
This was my first time seeing Gym Class Heroes without Trace! Sad times… Here’s GCH performing one of her favorites, “Viva la White Girl”…
Other mentionable artists I saw include the Arctic Monkeys, Panic! at the Disco, Pepper, Z Trip, T-Pain, T.I. and Too $hort (biiiiitch!). The $100+ two-day pass was worth Muse alone. I’m going to see Kate Earl at the Hotel Cafe in LA tomorrow night, so I’ll have more vids from her show up this weekend. Till then, check out the rest of my VIDEOS from Street Scene, Incubus and my best friend, Trace, rocking the recorder.
The stars and the moons have all aligned at this point in time and have made the unthinkable happen. It has been well over a decade since it last happened and a handful of guys that have brought us to this point. Chris, Dang, Duke, Edgar, Viet, Alvin, Dennis, Daniel, Jed, Anthony, Flex, Mark, and all the miscellaneous boys in between have brought us four to this very place…together.
We’ve been through it all. They love us but we don’t love them. We love them but they don’t love us. Engagements. First apartments. Break-ups for the wrong reasons. Break-ups for the right reasons. Multiple make-ups. Home wreckers. Friends into lovers. Lovers into friends. Lovers into enemies. Lovers we cut out completely. Under cover lovers. Wedding call offs. Returned bridesmaid dresses. College break-ups. Long distance relationships. Being in hopes. Finally letting go. Fighting to make things work.
We could write a book.
“We’re older and we’re not fuckin around anymore.”
I’m always thinking… in life…is it always black and white? Or is there that “grey” place where we can sit and hide from making definite decisions? To me…It either is or it isn’t. You either do or you don’t. That’s me. I wanted to finish college…I did it in 3 years and a quarter. I wanted my real estate license…I woke up, studied, took the state exam, and passed. I wanted to be a manager at my last branch…went to work early, worked overtime, and got it. I wanted to leave the banking center…applied for commercial banking and now I’m here. Dude…I take less than a minute to figure out what to eat at a restaurant. You will never hear me telling a server that I need another minute to figure out what I want to fucking order. To me…it’s THAT easy. But with chel, pam, and mayan…I see that it’s not always black and white. Sometimes it is grey. And trust me, I have bitched with this realization.
There’s a reason why all four of us are going through all this shit together. We’ll know to be careful. We’ll know when it’s too late to make things better. We’ll know when the situation is too fucked up to fix. We’ll know when to forgive. We’ll know if there’s room to let them back in. Or we’ll know when to just walk away. We don’t know for sure now…but our experiences help us put it all in perspective.
I would not want to be single with any other three women than these three bitches.
Today I wasted 45 minutes of my life driving through streets and parking structures I didn’t even know existed looking for parking on my first day back to school. You would think that I’d be able to find one parking space among the 14,000 spots SDSU claims to have. I ended up paying $12 to park in the one spot open in the KPBS visitor lot that is on the opposite side of campus from my first class (which I had already missed the first half hour of). I bought a semester trolley pass in a blind rage after class. Public transportation? Yikes. It’s gonna be one long semester.
This is MY LIFE for the next sixteen weeks (there are few things I enjoy more than organizing my Google calendar—Yes, I’m a total nerd). If you’re lucky, I’ll pencil you in somewhere between my classes, internship, regular job, possible weekend screen printing course and visits to the gym in attempts to be beach-ready for Hawaii in January. My best friend is a personal trainer and I work next door to the gym, so you’d think that I’d take advantage of that instead of taking advantage of my work’s proximity to Panera. Well… You’d think that if you didn’t know me and my love for sandwiches.
Congratulations to my dear friend on officially becoming a NAVY SEAL. I’ve never been so proud in my life. He’s been talking about becoming a seal ever since I rocked braces. He’s just one of those people who follows through with everything they say—a quality I’ve always admired, but am clearly lacking myself. It’s obvious by my extended stay at SDSU and Pammie’s ridiculous fifty-pound lead in our race to bring sexy back. I’ve been trying to get my life together, though. I’m taking an unheard of (to me, anyway) eighteen units this semester and keeping both my internship and regular job on top of school. Once this crazy semester is over, I’ll be taking a celebratory vacation in Hawaii with Pammie, Chel and Shi during winter break. And hopefully, I’ll be able to visit G on the east coast sometime before he comes back. There’s just so much I want to do, and I feel like I can do anything now. Trace and I were talking about moving up to LA together once she’s finished with cosmetology school. I’m looking forward to the possibility of living with my best friend (who just happens to be a personal fitness trainer. And a yoga instructor. And a hair stylist. Who cuts my hair for free). We’ll live in WeHo. She’ll do hair and I’ll do art. We’ll eat Pinkberry for breakfast. And maybe for lunch, too, if it’s that kinda day (and it will be). I’m not gonna lie. It’s gonna be fun times. If not LA, I’m open to moving to NYC and working for Connected Ventures. If I landed a job there after college, I would move to New York, no question.
Subtle reminders of my age have been more noticeable lately. I noticed it when I filled out a survey and realized, for the first time, I could no longer check the “18-24” age box. I noticed it when, on a recent trip to Vegas, the highlight of my weekend was not partying at Tao and being drunk off my ass, but watching a Cirque Du Soleil show completely sober. I noticed it when I was up at two in the morning researching a good primary care provider for my HMO instead of refreshing my Myspace page for new comments. Also, a lot of people I know got married and/or reproduced this year. I guess I’m around that age when things of that nature happen. I just always thought that it would happen to me by the time I hit twenty-five.
The thought of growing up used to terrify me, but now I’m excited about the years ahead. I guess it isn’t so bad when you’ve got Hawaiian vacations and the prospect of life in a new city to look forward to. I feel fortunate to have nothing (and no one) holding me back. Unless one of Gerald’s hot Navy Seal friends wants to hold me back. Because then I’d have to reconsider this whole single life in the city thing.
Whenever I exchange E-mails with Pammie, Chel and Shi, our conversations always revolve around the same topics: bitches, assclowns and our love for frozen yogurt. Chel and Shi have been raving about this place in SD that rivals Pinkberry, so we finally got together on Thursday night and had ourselves some fro-yo (while talking about bitches and assclowns). A great start to a pretty fuckin’ awesome weekend, I must say. We hit up Riley’s for drinks afterwards where Chel’s boyfriend was spinning and met up with some friends I haven’t hung out with in forever. The boys and I caught up over late night munchies at Denny’s and headed back to the valley for a short hookah session at E’s house before passing out at home.
When I woke up the next morning afternoon, I found out that Dino DeMilio was using the illustration I made of him as his default image on his Myspace aaaaand he credited it to mayanrocks.com! A lot of members created dollar graphics in honor of Dino and the Divide Social Club, but I wanted to put my spin on it. I drew his head in Illustrator and morphed it into an Obey homage to The Godfather. Fitting, isn’t it? I thought so. I’m honored that he put it on his Myspace. You won’t have access to their pages since they’re private, so here’s a photo of Dino, Milo and Russ of the DSC. YOWZA.
Julz and Jay’s birthday bash at Heat Supper Club was the highlight of my weekend. I’m usually anti-downtown when it comes to partying. I’d much rather chill at a dive bar than anywhere on Fifth. HOWEVER, all that was forgotten once I was introduced to bottle service. And roped off VIP booths. And microsuede walls. I pretty much had the time of my life that night… and I’ve got 500 pictures to prove it (cut down to a little more than half that after I deleted all the drunken, blurry pictures of nothing). Too bad I’m not in any of them since I was the drunkie snapping away all paparazzi status. I guess you’re just gonna have to take my word for it.
We continued Julz’s birthday celebration at Morena Club on Saturday night. It was pretty low key… Just our group of friends celebrating on familiar territory. Julz threw up, of course, but he surprisingly wasn’t tied up this year! Not yet, anyway (maybe in Vegas this weekend). We ate breakfast at Tyler’s afterwards and went home to rest up for our softball game on Sunday. I wasn’t planning on playing, since I had work later that afternoon, but they needed a catcher. I was wearing a jean skirt and flips flops, so I was the obvious choice. I was just there to get my tan on before work! I told them I didn’t like balls flying at my face, but I ended up playing anyway. I always find myself in Eastlake on days that Chick-Fil-A is closed. It’s probably for the best.
So I can’t wait till this weekend. Having limited time with my friends lately has made me miss them.
…
I’ll probably be bitching about them when I come home from Vegas.
Rocky would be so much happier if you bought him this dog bowldesigned by Milo Ventimiglia. It’s for a good cause… Wouldn’t you love to help provide for the well-being of animals in Southern California? Or maybe just Rocky’s well-being? I mean, look at him. Could he be any more dramatic in this picture? Anyway, I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had time to blog, let alone have a decent night out with my friends. I’ve been looking forward to this Vegas trip for months now. I’ve been excited about partying at Tao. I’ve been excited about singing along with the Beatles at LOVE (a Cirque du Soleil show). I’ve been excited about getting out of SD for a few days… but now that it’s just weeks away, I’m dreading the forecasted 110° weather… I’m dreading sharing a room with twenty people… and I’m especially bummed that I’ll be going to Vegas the weekend of Comic Con since Milo Ventimiglia is going to be there this year with the cast of Heroes (again), and I’m going to miss it (again).
BUT… I’ve still got my hopes up for an awesome weekend. Everything just seems to be falling into place for me. Don’t you love when that happens? I’ve been so worried lately. I had all this anxiety about my new job. I didn’t get my grant for school. I got a $400 traffic ticket. I’ve been barely getting by since I left my job at the bank to do a meagerly paid graphic design internship at SDSU last semester… and now everything is just working itself out. My new job at AAA pays well, offers benefits and works around my internship and school schedule… and they gave me the weekend off for Vegas. My traffic ticket was dismissed after I contested it in court. I’m no longer swimming in a sea of debt now that I’ve had extra money to pay off my credit cards. Sure, I work two jobs that hardly allow any time for me to do much else… and sure, I have to take calls sometimes from pervs who need a tow home from Spearmint Rhino. Whatever. I’m happier than I’ve been in a while. With all this good fortune, I half expect a Pinkberry to pop up in the valley.
So you’re shopping on Melrose and you only have, oh, let’s say, $5.96. (I’m just throwing a number out there.) You can either try and find something affordably vintage at Wasteland or buy a cup of deliciousness at Pinkberry instead! It’s only the greatest frozen treat you’ll ever taste in your life. Every reason I could think of why I’d never want to live in LA was forgotten once Pinkberry hit my lips.
I could go on and on about my love for Pinkberry, but instead I’ll tell you about my awesome weekend in LA. I had work till eleven o’clock at night all last week, and looking forward to this weekend was the only thing keeping me sane. I drove up after work on Friday and crashed at Pammie’s in the OC. Shi and Chel were fading in and out of sleep by the time I got there at one! The four of us went shopping at Southcoast before having lunch at Auntie Em’s Kitchen in Eagle Rock afterwards. Their cupcakes were featured on Bobby Flay’s Throwdown and Pammie’s been raving about them ever since. We didn’t get to try their famous red velvet cupcakes, because the biatch in front of us snagged the last two. Oh, well. She was really skinny and needed the cupcakes more than we did. They had really good food there otherwise, and we got to try the chocolate and carrot cake cupcakes (our favorite!).
Afterwards, we hit up Gallery 1998 on Melrose to check out Kurt Halsey’s exhibit. It was beautifully intimate! It closes tomorrow, so stop by if you’re near the area. We were browsing through the shops on Melrose when we saw this crazy line at the Pinkberry across the street. We decided to try it, and I’ve been a changed woman ever since. After my first bite, I was like Hmm. This is pretty good. Then I bit into some Cap’n Crunch and was like Oh my, this is ridiculous! When it was over (and it was over fast), I was like Did I really just eat this entire thing? I almost ate the cup. It was that good. After froyo, Shi graciously treated us out to dinner at Roscoe’s House of Chicken & Waffles. We somehow rolled ourselves back to Pammie’s apartment close to midnight and Chel and Shi drove back home to SD.
On Sunday, Pammie and I slept in and ate a late lunch at Sonic Burger—Yet another food chain I wish they had in SD. I don’t know why they tease us with Sonic commercials on TV when they only have one location in the OC for everyone in southern California to eat at. There’s upwards of ten Sonic Burgers up north in Bakersfield. There is nothing to do in Bakersfield. I’m sure that all anyone does there is eat at one of the many Sonic Burgers they have to choose from. And that would be perfectly fine by me. We hit up the Beverly Center where we weathered the most annoying elevators I have ever been on and returned my only purchase from Southcoast the day before. We ate a vegetarian dinner at M Café de Chaya with my cousin and her friend who both live in LA. It was the only healthy thing I ate all weekend. The best part though was that M Café was right next door to Pinkberry on Melrose. I had me some more Pinkberry goodness (with MOCHI topping this time… FYI you have to ask for it because it’s not on the menu). By the time we had gotten back to our cars, both my cousin and I had received parking tickets for having our cars parked on the street after six! I looked around and found a very confusing parking sign, and clearly, it wasn’t confusing to just me because every car parked on that street had a parking ticket. Apparently, these confusing parking signs are rampant in LA. Bah.
After dinner, we headed out to the Hollywood Bowl nearby to see John Mayer. It was our first time at that venue, so we weren’t sure where it was exactly. We just parked at the first paid parking lot we saw on Hollywood and Highland and ended up trekking almost a mile up to the show. I’m sure I burned the calories from at least that second Pinkberry I had that day. The Hollywood bowl was GIGANTIC and crowded and pretty awesome. We don’t even have a venue in SD that compares to this in size. Ben Folds was the opener and he was alright, but he didn’t sing The Luckiest which is pretty much the only song I know and like from him. John Mayer was really, really good. I’ve seen him one time before in SD and this show was so much better! This was an add-on show, and he had played the Bowl the night before, so he didn’t sing some of the songs we hoped he would (Comfortable, Stop This Train, In Repair), but he did sing some of my old favorites. He’s a very charming guy who knows how to entertain. There are few things I dislike more than going to a show and being bored. Jack Johnson hardly uttered a word in between songs when we saw him last, but that didn’t stop Edgar from being the happiest person on earth! Ha. By far, the highlight of my night was when he opened one of my favorite songs, 3×5, with Springsteen’s I’m On Fire:
I’m unbelievably starstruck, so it’s probably a good thing I don’t live in LA. Although San Diego does have its share of homegrown celebrities (Um, hi? AC Slater?). We ran into Schuyler Fisk and Joshua Radin on our way to our seats, and I just about died. Pammie was like, “Wait, who are they?” You’re probably thinking the same thing. I saw Joshua Radin a couple years back on the Hotel Cafe tour and Schuyler Fisk is his ladyfriend (also a singer/actress). It’s a good thing Paris Hilton’s in jail. My stomach would’ve fallen out of my butt if I ran into her at Pinkberry.
Before I dropped off Pammie in the OC after the show, we stopped by Diddy Riese in Westwood for cookies (as if I didn’t eat enough unhealthy food that weekend). As I drove home from LA, I sighed at each and every Pinkberry-less mile.
All I’d ever wanted was to forget. But even when I thought I had succeeded, pieces kept emerging, like tiny bits of wood floating up to the surface that only hint at the shipwreck below…
– Sarah Dessen, Just Listen
Last summer, I suffered a slight emotional breakdown. Okay so maybe it was a massive breakdown that lasted nearly half a year. Whatever. I spent that entire time by myself trying to forget everything that drove me into this very bad place. I couldn’t escape it. I started coming around again when I realized that I didn’t want to spend my 25th birthday alone. Months later, I still wasn’t completely over it. But something happened last weekend. Someone walked past me smelling of his shampoo, and that normally would’ve made me remember, but, on that day, there was no rush of emotionally charged memories. No shooting pain through my chest. Nothing. I’ve finally let go.
The CW (or the Country Western network as I like to call them) isn’t renewing “Gilmore Girls” next season. Sad times. Their season finale ended up being their series finale. They didn’t even get a proper send off. It just ended. I’m so sad… and maybe a little embarassed that you all know I watch “Gilmore Girls” now. Religiously at that. I’ve been hooked ever since Jess broke up Rory and Dean in 2002. Pretty sad if you know what I’m talking about. R.I.P. Gilmore Girls! You’ll be missed. I guess all I can do now is watch DVDs of past episodes… and read fan fiction. Don’t judge me.
Dyanne, Pammie and I drove up to LA Friday night for the Smitten exhibit at the Thinkspace Art Gallery in Silverlake. Two of our favorite artists, Stella Im Hultberg and Audrey Kawasaki, were part of the all girl show, so we couldn’t miss it. We picked up Pammie in the OC and were stuck in LA traffic at 10pm. Lame! Luckily, Thinkspace stayed open past closing time, and we got to see all the gorgeous art. You should definitely check it out if you’re near LA (or even if you’re 135 miles away like us). Or you can just look at my pictures from the exhibit. We schlepped through midnight traffic after the show to hit up Diddy Riese in Westwood. YUM-O. The area around UCLA is pretty cool…. made me think about getting my MFA in graphic design there, but I looked into it today and they don’t offer it. I started looking at other universities outside of San Diego, though. I suppose I should concentrate on getting my BA first! My schedule is going to be insane this fall with both my graphic design internship and regular job on top of a full load at school. There goes my social life. Even June is looking pretty exhausting since I’m working full time over the summer and still squeezing a class and my internship in. Oh, well. It’ll help me save for when Dyanne and I move out together at the end of summer… not that I’ll have any free time to actually enjoy our fabulously designed apartment!
Taking this photo at Edgar’s last weekend of the old Mcdonald’s crew (or as Julz calls us… “the 25 & up crowd”) got us reminiscing about when we all used to work there together. Nearly a decade later, and I’m still hanging out with the same people. They say that I’m not much different now than I was back in the day. I guess it’s true when I’m reminded of stories like this…
Our Mcdonald’s had the standard drive-thru with one window where you’d pay for your order and another where you’d get your food. On crazy days like the dreaded Cheeseburger Sunday, we would open a second window where you could order… a tandem window, if you will. For some reason, Jed would always assign me to the tandem window. Looking back at it now, I’m convinced it was for his own personal amusement. Anyway, orders were taken in one line at both the regular and tandem windows when it was busy. The only way anyone would know what order to give to which car was to press the tandem button whenever an order from that window was taken. Being the forgetful person you love and adore, I’d always fail to remember that one little detail. Sheryll and Pammie would often give the wrong food to the wrong car because of me. “Press tandem, Mayan!” they’d always say. Not much has changed since then.. Except now I have to be reminded about more important things like remembering to bring my driver’s license so not to disrupt my date with Jack Daniels at the bar. Just kidding. I’d much rather have Filipino Cowboys these days. Ask Mitch at Landlord’s to hook you up!
Spring break is such a tease! I’ve still got six weeks of classes and interning left and all I can think about is going to the beach with my friends and all my favorite musicians going on tour. I watched John Legend and Corinne Bailey Rae perform at the Embarcadero with Pammie, Chel and Shi tonight. We had an “avencha” (as Mark would say) and ended up walking thirty or so blocks! I could have definitely skipped my workout earlier this afternoon. I thought we were gonna have to haul a cab (or paramedic) for Shi! Ha, ha! Check out my vids from the show. Be jealous!
I was thinking about going up to LA tomorrow to see OneRepublic with Dyanne at the Viper Room, but they sold out today. I think I’ll go to the beach instead and work on achieving the natural tan of the islands. I attempted to get my tan on the other day with Trace, but it was mostly cloudy, so we spent half the time underneath blankets eating sandwiches. I’m still ridiculously pale, but those sandwiches were really, really tasty.
So I was driving to work yesterday feeling particularly emo, because I was listening to my Top 25 Most Played list randomly selected songs on my iPod that were all coincidentally depressing. But while I was contemplating driving my car into oncoming traffic, I saw a semi drive by with no trailer. I love those things…
What? Semi’s driving around without trailers don’t make your day? You’re weird.
I was at this bar last weekend and some guy told my friend that he wanted to “lick her all night long” (and he was so ridiculously drunk that he fell out of his chair minutes later). Seriously, who says that shit? An even bigger question is how come he didn’t offer to lick ME all night long? Not that I would’ve let him (and his tongue) come within a ten-mile radius of my body. Disgusto. I don’t get this whole dating thing. I’ve been single for a year TODAY. I was with my ex for seven years, three of which I was still a teenager. All of my girlfriends are attached except for one (and she belongs on The L Word). I’m not remotely attracted to any one… I’m convinced my husband is not in San Diego. My therapist says it’s important for me to be single, because I haven’t been single since I was sixteen, and I should take this time to focus on myself before jumping into another relationship… and by “therapist” I mean my friend… who is also single… who I secretly think wants me to remain single with her. Boo whore.
I’ve been challenged to list five things you don’t know about me, but there is privileged information I haven’t already vomited all over cyber space with good reason. Instead, I’ll list five incidents that cemented my reputation as somewhat of a space cadet among my friends.
1. Pammie and I were in the OC walking back to my car after lunch. It was freezing out and I asked her where we were. She said, “Santa Ana,” and I was like, “Ohhhh… No wonder it’s so windy here.” She stopped walking and laughed at me while I stood there freezing my ass off.
2. Jay was talking about how Ernie Reyes Jr’s dad was this martial arts master and starred in a few movies. I said, “Who’s Ernie Reyes Jr’s dad?” and Jay was all, “Um, that would be Ernie Reyes, Mayan.”
3. Errol, Pammie, Jay and I went to Skokie’s to watch “Everything is Illuminated.” Skok popped the DVD in and was like, “Hit play, Mayan” so I just hit the play button on the DVD player. Thirty minutes go by before we realize that we just watched deleted scene after deleted scene thinking the entire time that we were watching the actual movie and they had just Tarantino’d the shit out of it. At the end of the movie, I was like, “That’s weird… None of the deleted scenes were in the movie.” …and I was serious.
4. Meehchelle and I were in the kitchen at our cabin in Big Bear and Pammie was showering upstairs. (I thought) Meehchelle said, “What does your sister call you, Mayan?” I gave her this confused look and was like… “Um… Mayan?” and she looked at me in disbelief before saying, “Your sister is calling you, Mayan” as I heard Pammie’s distant cries in the background because Julz had used up all the hot water… and I thought SHE was the clueless one in this conversation.
5. I was at a gas station with Jay buying some cupcakes and M&Ms to fashion a makeshift cake for Pammie’s birthday. Jay noticed my confusion as I stood in the candy aisle with a bag of king-sized M&Ms in one hand and regular M&Ms in the other. I was like, “Feel these bags, Jay. This one’s supposed to be king-sized, but the M&Ms are the same size in both bags…” Before dying of laughter, he managed to say, “Sweetie, ‘king-sized’ refers to the size of the bag, not the size of the M&Ms!” Oh hell no.
I’ve only listed five, but sadly, shit like this happens all the time. My friends like to hoard these “mayanisms” and whip them out amongst strangers whenever the opportunity presents itself, so most people already think I’m a space cadet before I get a fighting chance to convince them otherwise. Now that I’ve broadcasted these infamous stories on the internet, they never have to be repeated again (and again and again… I’m talking to YOU, Jay!).
Even though I’m sick at home coughing up my insides, I feel like this year is already looking better than 2006. I’m officially halfway to fifty (yikes!). Pammie threw me a surprise dinner with all of my friends in the Champagne Room at the Strip Club Steakhouse downtown the night before my birthday. She’s only the most awesome sister ever. We went to an Incubus concert on my actual birthday, and they rocked, of course. We might see them again when they close out their tour in LA. On Saturday, I spent some much needed time with my friends at this club that they spin at. I drank entirely too much, but you only turn a quarter of a century once, right? Sunday was spent nursing a hangover, witnessing my sister cry as the Chargers lost to the Patriots, and watching a Grey’s Anatomy marathon with Pammie (best show ever!). Sadly, Pammie’s moving back to the OC for a fabulous new job, so we went up there on Monday so she could set up her apartment. She’s not the only one moving up, though… The graphic designer for SDSU’s CES marketing department offered me an internship as a production artist because she loved this sexy website. I’m gonna have to give up my stable, higher paying job with dental and health benefits, though. It’s all about sacrifice. A year from now, when I’ve finally gotten my BA and a year of design experience under my belt, I’ll be able to land my dream job and it’ll all be worth it. At least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself as I’m eating Top Ramen for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I plan on working a second job on nights and weekends after I leave the bank at the end of the month and get my school schedule settled. I’m also going to move out this summer. With school, an internship and a second job, I probably won’t be home enough to appreciate having my own place, but it’s something I really want (and need) to do for myself. I always said that by the time I was 25-years-old, I’d be married with kids. Life never turns out how you expect it, but I’m okay with where I’m at and where I’m headed… It only gets better from here.
Listening to music in my car had become a very dim memory to me. After more than a year of talking to myself, rolling down my windows to hear the radio in the car next to me, and painfully silent drives to and from the OC and LA, my car stereo is finally fixed… and I did it! ME… Mayan. The girl who leaves her ATM card in the freezer and finds it a week later when she’s craving popsicles. I can’t even remember how to get to your apartment that I’ve been to a million times, but I can at least listen to music while I’m lost now! I got tired of waiting for a new boyfriend to come along and fix it for me, so I decided to (attempt to) do it myself! I did some online troubleshooting, bought this replacement ribbon-looking thing off of eBay not knowing if that would fix it or not, somehow got my stereo out of my car (after watching my ex do it so many times before), unscrewed a bunch of unnecessary parts to get to that ribbon piece inside, tore out the ribbon piece, replaced it with the new one, put all the parts back together (but was somehow left with six extra screws), plugged it back into my car and it WORKED! I almost cried from the sound of music. I called Pammie up because I had to tell SOMEONE about the unthinkable feat I had just accomplished… Then five minutes later, as I’m shoving the stereo into the hole where it used to be, the power shuts off! I called Pammie in a blind rage and she said that her friend could look at it for me. I consoled myself by taking a long bath and giving myself a pedicure while Pammie took my car to get fixed. Later, I heard the garage open and she called the house and told me that her friend couldn’t fix it, but she had something for me outside. I thought she brought me back a present to make me happy because she’s an awesome sister like that, but I went outside, toe separators and all, and she was bumping Beyonce’s “Irreplaceable” in MY car! Turns out I blew a fuse when I tried the shove the stereo back in… so I really did fix my radio! I just happened to blow a fuse in the process. Technicalities.
It has been more than a year since the Great Purse Disaster of 2005, and the only thing I have left to replace are my Gucci sunglasses (pummelled to bits by car after passing car). I wore them well past their prime (even when my prescription had changed and I couldn’t afford to replace the ridiculously priced lenses). I could usually care less about brand named anything, but I wear glasses all the time (even in the shower when there’s a spider in the bathroom), so they might as well be nice, right? Looking for sunglasses is an uphill battle because of my horrendous vision and need for frames with just the right shaped lenses that can handle my crazy prescription. After some extensive shopping, I’ve found a suitable (albeit entirely too expensive) replacement for my Guccis. I bought new eyeglasses this past summer, and I’ve been looking for a justifiable reason to spend more than half a grand splurge on these sunglasses I’ve been lusting after. I think I’ve finally found a reason: Valentine’s Day.
It’s my first valentine-less year since I rocked braces and colored contacts (nearly a decade). Overpriced sunglasses would make a nice Valentine’s gift to myself, don’t you think? Help me afford them by buying some goods from the shop!
Every year, I make the same New Year’s resolution to lose enough weight to fit into my skinny jeans again — not the trendy skinny jeans immortalized by Audrey Hepburn in the Gap commercial, but the jeans I wore when I was skinny…er. Because let’s face it, I was never (and probably never will be) skinny. I thought for 2007 I’d resolve to do more than that. Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:
– Fall in love with someone who knows my worth.
– Quit the BS. It’ll be very clear if I don’t like you. I’m tired of being nice.
– Fix my car stereo on my own.
– Strengthen relationships I value. Drop those that don’t matter.
– Focus more on myself and less on others.
– Take/pass 42 units so I can get my BA next spring.
– Move out of San Diego (I might save this one for 2008).
2006 was a year of realization… who my real friends are, what really matters (and doesn’t matter) to me, the potential for something better. I’m ready for a new year and a new life.
Okay so I asked my dad to change the dead bulb in one of my head lights, but as little as I know about cars, he knows even littler (yes, it’s a word). I ate some dinner, approved some myspace comments, picked some lint off my pants… Almost an hour later, I’m on my way out with Pammie to go grocery shopping and there, sitting in the garage, is my dad shining a flashlight under the hood of my car. “You are NOT still replacing my light bulb!” I say. He says he can’t figure it out. “This is why I need a boyfriend,” I tell him. He nods in agreement. Sad times. I always had a boyfriend around to change my lightbulbs, jumpstart my car, hook up my (now defunct) stereo with an iPod cable, unlock my car when I leave my keys inside of it, change my oil, replace my front bumper when I accidentally strike dogs on the street (okay so that was a one-time thing)… I thought about this last night on the radio-less car ride home from LA. I saw this DIY repair kit for my stereo on eBay, but thought that even if I bought this kit, I wouldn’t know how to take my stereo out of my car and attempt to repair it. I should really learn how to do these things.. Or I can just marry a mechanic (who moonlights as a chef — I can’t cook, either).
Yesterday, instead of sitting at home refreshing my myspace page for new comments, I decided to get out of San Diego for a while. Pammie had an interview in the OC and I went up with her so we could spend the day shopping. I went to the anti-mall while she got her interview on, and I picked up some cute stuff from Urban Outfitters. By some form of miracle, I made it to the anti-mall and back to my sister’s interview without getting lost. This newfound sense of direction lasted about three blocks before I got lost again on the way to Southcoast Plaza. We ate lunch and headed up to LA so we could hit up the new H&M at the Beverly Center. H&M was my favorite store in NYC. They really need to open one in San Diego… We spent HOURS in that store. I convinced Pammie to pick up this gorgeous top that didn’t entirely fit, just so she could use it as a goal shirt. I know you girls know what I’m talking about.. Like those skinny jeans that you used to fit that you keep in the back of your closet just in case you ever get that skinny again. We all have them… and if you’re saying you don’t, then you’re either a realist (like Pammie was before yesterday), you’re lying, or you’ve always been skinny (in which case I officially hate you). Cute clothes are a great motivation to lose all that weight you gained while you were with your ex-boyfriend for seven years and didn’t need to impress anyone. Not that I know anything about that. Anyway, we wandered around the mall for a while and I somehow managed to lose the mini extension cord for my ear buds that I just picked up at Sony Style not an hour before. Different city, same Mayan. We went to P.F. Chang’s for dinner and were told it was going to be a 45-minute wait, but got VIP treatment and were seated in minutes. We ignored the evil stink eyes of all the customers who had gotten there much earlier, followed our host pass the bar where we thought we were sitting and were seated at a table for four. Okay, so they probably alerted the wrong buzzer. We’re still VIP! 😉 It was nice being away. Pammie is most likely moving back to the OC for a better job, and I’m definitely ready for change…
I wasn’t looking forward to Christmas this year. Most of my relatives went out of town, taking with them the traditional family party I’ve attended for nearly twenty-five years… but it actually ended up being okay. I got $30 worth of Starbucks cards from work (even a gift card from one of the few customers I love helping with her seemingly endless number of transactions)… and even though I suffered a mild stroke when I heard that Starbucks discontinued its Valencia syrup (I used to put eight pumps of it in my Passion Tea Lemonade), I still appreciate the gifts. The white elephant gift I got from our office Christmas party ended up being this twenty questions game that took me back to a happier summer last year (and a Target gift card… who wouldn’t use that?). Pammie got me something from my wish list (that will remain up for my birthday, people!) and I’m so excited to use my new headphones at the gym (and in my car since my radio is still broken). Chel made me this lovely painting and Shi got me a DIY book (SO me!). You can all thank Shi when I give you handmade soap for your birthdays. I hope you all had as good of a Christmas as I did and thanks to everyone who called or sent me a text even though I haven’t been around much. See you next year…
I got a surprising amount of orders this past week from sororities, so I spent my Sunday in front of the tube making buttons. I wasn’t really paying attention. It was mostly just background noise as I worked. By the time I was finished filling orders, I realized that I watched “The Wedding Planner,” “The Wedding Singer” and “My Best Friend’s Wedding.” I also just finished reading this fictional wedding-themed book on Saturday called “Something Borrowed” (so fucking awesome that I read it in one day) and started reading its sequel, “Something Blue.” I saw the first book at Borders and snagged it because I liked the cover. Anyway, this whole weekend has been an ugly reminder that I am straight spinster status. I always spend Thanksgiving with my mom’s sisters and my cousins who are all around my age, but this year a lot of my cousins weren’t there because they were spending Thanksgiving with their husband’s slash baby’s daddy’s side of the family… and my cousins who WERE there were there with their significant others… even my younger cousins. So sad.
I got my pre-sale on today and bought tickets to Incubus for me and Pammie. I get to spend my birthday with one of my favorite bands, my favorite sister and 2,600 other people… and maybe you, too, if you’d like to celebrate a quarter of a century with me. Soma is arguably the worst venue I’ve ever been to, but I haven’t been this excited since my bangs grew back. I wasn’t even old enough to drink beer the last time I saw them… Now I’ll be old enough to accompany minors! I finally have something worth looking forward to. If someone ruins my birthday, I will ruin their life! 🙂
On our way to see Lupe Fiasco, we stopped by the new Chick-Fil-A on Sports Arena Boulevard… It’s been months since I’ve been out with anybody and even longer since I’ve had Chick-Fil-A. There’s also a Phil’s BBQ being built on the same street. MADNESS! SD City Beat came out with its annual “Best of San Diego” list and Phil’s was voted “Best BBQ” for the millionth time. I want to try the rest of the winning restaurants. Who wants to come with? Anyway, Lupe Fiasco was disappointing. Midnight rolled around and there was still no sign of him. Jay took a nap on the couch as we listened to almost three hours of opening acts. It was Street Scene all over again, except he actually showed up this time… His set didn’t even last a full hour. Wackness. At least he played the three songs I wanted to hear (“You My,” “Daydream” and “Kick, Push”). Common was two hours late the first time we saw him, but he was well worth the wait. Lupe put on a good show, but it was entirely too short and not worth waiting three hours for. I skipped out on 94.9’s anniversary bash with OK Go at 4th & B for this… I could’ve gone to that first AND eaten Chick-Fil-A AND walked from downtown to Mission Beach and I still would’ve made it to Canes before Lupe Fiasco did.
So I only have three and a quarter door handles on my car now. I must’ve been crazy excited that I was finally going home after hours of art history lecture, because I opened my driver side door in the SDSU parking garage and more than half of the door handle snapped off in my hand. Seriously WTF. One of my windows no longer functions… I can’t see through the old, bubbling tint on my rear windshield… I shattered my sideview mirror when I hit the side of my garage… I’ve been driving in silence since last November when my stereo decided to stop working… My air conditioner blows air that is somehow warmer than the air outside… Our pets’ heads are falling off… Could anything else go wrong? Someone please steal my car already. It’s the white Camry with mismatched hubcaps and gray, unpainted replacement bumper from that time I accidentally hit a dog. I’ll make it easy for you by unintentionally leaving my car keys in the door (again). I shouldn’t be allowed to drive.
I made my usual trip to the post office today to buy stamps so I could mail out buttons. I normally go to the post office by the bank, but was halfway home from work by the time I remembered to go. I went to the one by my house instead where they don’t know that I always buy a crazy amount of oddly priced stamps… The mail clerk was like, “Sixty 52¢ stamps! Are you getting married, hun?” OK what. Thanks for reminding me that I’m nearly twenty-five without a boyfriend to marry. Sad times.
So today sucked. I usually look forward to Wednesdays… It used to be because I’d get crazy drunk with my friends at JT’s Pub and still manage to get up for work the next morning.. but now it’s because it’s my day off from the bank, I only have a couple of classes, and most importantly… Four back-to-back episodes of “Without a Trace” followed by a repeat of “Las Vegas.” Oh, how the mighty have fallen. After school, I went to Mission Valley to take a pilates class and accidentally locked my keys in my car. This is something I WOULD do, but surprisingly, I can count on one hand how many times I’ve done it… and each of those times I luckily had my window cracked open and friends around with small arms. I was by myself this time and I didn’t want to call any of my friends with small arms because I’ve been MIA for months and I’m not one of those people who only call when they need something. I had a minor lapse of judgement and considered calling my dad since he has the only spare key to my car, but thought about the endless lecturing that would result from this favor and decided against it… When I finally decided to call Pammie, I realized that I left my cell phone at home. I was 0 for 2. The girls at 24 Hour let me use their phone, but Pammie was still in the OC working… So ultimately, I had to cough up $35 for some tow truck guy the concierge called to break into my car. He used what looked like one of those blood pressure measurer things to pump some space in the crack of my door. Then he stuck some hanger apparatus that I could’ve fashioned myself in the small open crack to unlock my door. I should keep a hanger and blood pressure kit in my car for times like these… but I guess it wouldn’t really help me if it was locked in my trunk, now would it? You should keep it in YOUR car so you can help me the next time it inevitably happens. I missed my class waiting for the tow guy in the parking structure, since I didn’t have my cell phone with me… Otherwise I would’ve been getting my pilates on during the 45 minutes it took him to get there. Today wasn’t entirely sucky, though… I came home to the sweetest E-mail from an old friend. Thanks, Errol ♥
It’s after midnight and I got off of work five hours ago, but right now I’m sitting alone in my house eating cold Taco Bell in my work uniform still. WTF mate. Clearly, there is seriously something wrong with this picture. These past few weeks have been shitty for me.. Actually, this whole summer has been pretty shitty. There are just so many changes in my life, not one of them good except for me going to SDSU now instead of bullshit community college (and even that has been disappointing). SDSU (so far) has been community college with a lot more walking and a more expensive parking permit (that I’ve somehow managed to misplace within the first two weeks of school). None of my classes or professors are the least bit interesting. I felt all excited at first. I was thinking that I could show the graduates of Monte Vista High that they, too, can transfer to a state school within six years of high school graduation. I feel so fucking old, because I don’t know any students who go to State, but I know FACULTY members (hey, ERROL!). Sad times. It’s okay, though. I’m sticking with it… Pammie, Chel and Shi are all planning to purchase their first homes by next year, and I need to catch up! There’s also the change in my love life (or lack thereof). For those of you who have been living underneath a rock, Edgar and I broke up like half a year ago. I felt like we weren’t moving forward. We were just at that point where you either part ways or get married… and we definitely weren’t going to do the latter. For some reason (it might be those seven years we were together), our breakup still feels fresh. I seriously thought I was fine, but some days I hear a song and I just lose it.. Then I think about how I’m listening to this song on my iPod with one ear phone while I’m driving because my radio broke ten months ago and Edgar was supposed to fix it and then that makes me even more sad. It’s just sad to think about our history, but it’s not like I want us to be back together. It’s just weird to picture him with someone other than me. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. It’s worse that he’s friends with all of my friends, so that totally disrupts my social life. I feel like I can’t be with my friends sometimes because he’s there with whomever he’s talking to at the time and it’s uncomfortable. I am now a firm believer that you should keep your significant other and your friends separate. I’m all about the clean break. It’s been six months and the break couldn’t have been any dirtier. I think I’m okay with being single… I mean it DOES have its moments (and by moments I mean moments of unbridled loneliness and depression), but it’s not like I didn’t go out all summer. I was at Landlord’s practically every Friday and JT’s every Wednesday and living it up with my best girl, Trace… but not once did I see anyone I was remotely interested in. JT’s has gotten too crazy for me, anyway. Mindz Alike’s newfound popularity among the fresh twenty-one crowd brought along annoying groupies and made JT’s encompass just about everything I despise about clubbing downtown on the weekends. I was quite content when it was just some little dive bar our small group of friends would go to on Wednesdays to spin while trying to stay warm near the outdoor patio heater last year. Those were the days! I stay away from the dollar drama now. I don’t expect to meet the love of my life in a bar, but it’d be nice to meet SOMEONE new. Sometimes a hot guy will come to my bank and after handling their transaction, I check their customer profile and they turn out to be married or years younger than me or Mormon or constantly overdrawn (LOSER!). I wouldn’t want to date anyone whose transaction history I have access to anyway (Hey, who did you take to Benihana’s?!? Oh, wait… That was the day you took me. Never mind… See how psychotic that would make me? SO uncool!).
So this past month I’ve been MIA. I’m sorry I haven’t been returning anyone’s phone calls (well, apologies to everyone except Jay because I never returned his phone calls in the first place. HAHA♥), but I just need some time to myself to take charge of my life. Lately the same old shit has got me saying, “I’m too old for this shit.” Maybe I really am.
I keep baking cookies. They never turn out right. I never eat them. I’m not domestic at all. I give them to my friends and they eat them even though the cookies always somehow come out too salty, disfigured or full of bubbles (thanks, boys). I feel this constant need to please people and I think that’s why I’ve been on this cookie-baking binge. I like making people happy. I got this new job around Christmas, so I bought all of my friends gifts knowing that I’d only be getting one gift because we did the secret santa thing this year. I am STILL broke from Christmas, but I know my friends really loved their gifts and that’s what I think about when I’m starving on my lunch break LOL. For my birthday next week, I want nothing more than to have a good time with my loved ones. I have work this whole week, so I won’t be able to fully celebrate till the weekend. I want to have as much fun as I did on new year’s eve sans the painful vomiting.
Anyone who knows me is familiar with what some people refer to as “mayanisms.” It’s those little things I do that make me ME… and you love me for it (though your ass would never admit it). I always miss phone calls because I can never find my cell phone in the abyss that is my purse. I don’t realize that I’ve lost your $350 digital camera, because I was far too busy eating birthday cake (and too drunk off of margaritas) to notice it was no longer attached to my wrist at a party full of southsiders that none of us knew. The mayanism I pulled last week was probably the worst one I’ve ever done… The great purse disaster of 2005. It still hurts to talk about it. Okay so it was a Friday and I was craving Phil’s BBQ so I called some friends up and we all met there around seven. Michelle had to go somewhere after dinner, so I drove separately so I could bring Skokie and Raul home after. I missed a turn and got lost, so I called Skok and he told me I shouldn’t be allowed to drive anywhere. It’s true… but it didn’t help my situation. By some form of miracle, I found my way to Phil’s on my own… Trace, Nina, Brent, Vince and Brandon were still eating since they got there after us, so Skokie, Raul and Jay were gonna go back home to Eastlake with me. Let me mention that my car is always a mess. Everyone knows this. I always bring extra clothes with me in case I want to change into my yoga pants or something LOL. Anyway, so all these clothes are strewn all over the backseat of my car, and I put my purse on top of my car so I could move everything to the trunk. Jay and Raul get into the backseat, I get in the passenger side and Skokie starts driving… We were having SUCH a good time. Jay amazed us by singing the ENTIRE Perfect Strangers theme song and then further amazed us with the Gummi Bears theme song. We were laughing so hard, and I was thinking… I gotta call Edgar and tell him about this. I go to get my phone and notice my purse isn’t in the front seat. I check the backseat and it’s not there, either… I had Skok pull over and we checked the trunk and it wasn’t there. Then it dawned on me… I left it on top of the fucking car! I couldn’t believe it… but really… I could. I would do something like that. Not one person was surprised when they found out about what happened. We went back to Phil’s and Skok and Raul looked around the outside of the restaurant while Jay and I walked down the street we took to the freeway. Jay starts running, because he saw my purse in the middle of the road… being pummelled by car after car after car. He ran into the street and grabbed my purse, but nothing was in it but a shattered bottle of floozey red nail polish. Everything else was scattered all over the street… my beloved prescription Gucci sunglasses, iPod, digital camera and brand new (uninsured) cell phone… all broken beyond repair. We were all standing on the side of the road watching the cars pass, occasionally running into the street to pick up my credit card.. my driver’s license.. my debit card.. Skokie was THISCLOSE to getting hit by a car. He was like a deer caught in headlights… I guess it could’ve been much worse… nothing lost was irreplaceable. It just pains me to have to replace it all. Sad times.
I feel like I don’t have anything post-worthy to say anymore. It’s always the same shit, different day. I see my friends everyday… I feel like it’s summer still. I’m sure one day I’ll get sick of them (or vice versa), but right now I’m happy to see them everyday. Most of them, anyway 😉 It’s hard to keep this thing updated when I do the same thing everyday (smoke hookah, play poker, watch Mindz Alike DJ, watch the boys skate, eat Chick-fil-a) with the same people (CHIP SET!) who make up 98.2% of mayanrocks.com’s viewers. These people already know what I did, because I did it yesterday and the day before that (and the day before that) and I did it with THEM. But what about that other 1.8%? They don’t know what I’ve been doing or who I’ve been doing it with… so this one’s for you, 1.8%. I’m sorry I kept you in the dark.
Today I played my first real cash game with the set. My friends have been playing poker together for years now while I’ve been on the other side of the garage smoking hookah. Sometimes I got tired of smoking and I would go inside and hibernate. I’d be awakened by a “YOU FUCKER!” coming from the garage at four in the morning indicating my sister just lost a hand and it was time to go home LOL. Slowly, the people who used to only hookah with me started playing poker on the other side of the garage. More recently, Raul started playing and so it was just the girls (sans Pammie) who didn’t play. So yesterday, I asked Skokie to teach me how to play with them forreal. I mean, I know all the hands, I just don’t know how to play them. He taught me how to FOLD (apparantly, it’s not illegal) and how to watch out for the assholes among other things… I have a REALLY bad poker face (I got you some flowers…), and I have a tendency to think out loud (Queen Jack!), but I think I did him proud today 🙂 But anyway, besides poker, we’ve had a ton of birthdays these past couple of months. Julz, Jay, Gerald, Rome… Saturday is Raul’s birthday and Vince’s is next week… We pretty much celebrate by doing the same shit we do every other day, but we usually just add alcohol and maybe a couple of people who don’t hang out with us everyday (and sometimes fifty southsiders that none of us know). My life is pretty monotonous and uninteresting, but I’m easily amused so I’m enjoying every bit of it right now.
I had the BEST day today, but I’ll wait till I get back to SD to post everything that happened. I wish I could stay in NYC a little longer! I’ll be home soon, but here are some new photos to tide you over till then. I uploaded some pictures that were taken one of the days we went to the beach before I left for vacation (Trace is going to KILL me!) and some pictures from DC and NYC, too. I still have a couple days left here, so I’ll be sure to post more pictures when I get home…
I miss home. I’m in Washington DC right now and it’s humid as the f*ck! I tend to appreciate SD a lot more when I go out of town. There really isn’t a better place to live. I can’t wait to go to New York on Saturday, though. DBJ! I miss you guys. I’ll be home in a week…
This is the first time in weeks that I’ve been home before three in the morning. I haven’t been feeling like myself lately… Or maybe I’ve changed and this is just how I am now. I find myself not giving a shit about things I used to care about and getting hurt over things that shouldn’t even matter to me. I’ve been having this constant feeling of uncertainty. Something has shifted… I’m tired of pretending that I’m okay.
During one of our philosophical conversations, Errol said that people try to make their lives seem much more interesting in their blogs. My life is VERY uninteresting… but I’m easily amused. Corneal abrasions… Sandwiches… If that’s not interesting, I don’t know what is! Maybe I should spice things up a bit. What if I told you that I recently discovered that me and one of my best girls, Trace, are SISTERS! Okay, not really. But we’re cousins! Okay… so we’re not BLOOD cousins. Her sister’s godmother is my mom’s sister! And Trace’s Dad is my cousin’s godfather! My aunt has known Trace’s mom since back in the day when my mom and her sisters went to Sweetwater High and Trace’s mom went to Mount Miguel! She’s basically FAMILY if you look at it from a FILIPINO perspective 🙂 I always sensed that we were relatives haha. Anyway, a few things going on this week… I start summer school tonight (BOO!). Going to the COMMON show tomorrow night at the new House of Blues in San Diego (finally!). Celebrating Skokie’s birthday on Thursday (if he deems me cool enough to party with him!). Then Edgar moves into his new house in Otay Ranch this weekend. I should have a lot of pictures posted throughout the week (taken with my grad gift from Pammie!). I have to go to school now. Bah. See you later tonight for some fakhfakhina, biatches.
There’s this palm reader place that I always pass by on the freeway. A lot of people are skeptical about its validity, but I figure… if this place has been open my entire life (23+ years), then they must be doing something right. Jay says that they’re probably still open because they serve sandwiches, too. My gullible ass totally believed him. Man… I would go there on that basis alone. Trace told me that her grandma got her palm read and they told her that she would die in a body of water… but her grandma went on a cruise recently and is still alive as far as I know. I think the palm readers are pretty vague in their readings, so you can pretty much twist whatever they say and apply it to the situations in your life… I would still like to get my palm read for fun. Who wants to come with???
Anyway, tomorrow (or TODAY, technically) is my graduation. I’m finally getting my associate’s degree from Grossmont. Yaye. My mom (being the Filipino mother that she is) is making me walk. I think it’s partly because my parents aren’t sure if I’m ever getting my bachelor’s degree and this might be the last time they’re gonna see their baby graduate. Haha. I don’t expect anyone to sit in the hot sun and listen to boring speeches and listen for my name out of 1,100 different graduates… so no one has to go to the actual ceremony. At 5:30 p.m. At Grossmont College off the 125 freeway. Haha. But seriously it’s not a big deal. I only EXPECT family to come to the ceremony. I’m having dinner afterwards with my family (and whoever decides to show up for the ceremony and a free meal paid for by my parents haha) and then it’s ON at Julian’s house! I plan to get my drank on, biatches. I reeeally like it when I’m buzzed. I don’t know why I stopped drinking before I turned 21. I guess it’s because it was less fun when it became legal. I’ve been missing out. Life seems a little bit easier when your intoxicated… I didn’t want to make a big deal out of me getting my associate’s degree, so this mini get together I’m having at Julz’s is last minute. It’s on a WEDNESDAY, so I’m assuming people have work the next day. Don’t feel bad if I didn’t officially invite you. If you know me, then consider yourself invited. Don’t expect food or anything to be there. LOL. All I know for sure is that there will be Jell-O shots and hookah and brownies and Chambord and vodka and poker and spoons and me with a big smile on my face.
I broke a mirror at work on Monday. This is day six of my seven-year curse, and let me just say that I totally believe that I’m cursed right now. So many random bad things have been happening to me this week… and today I spent my morning in “urgent” care and waited over two hours for someone to tell me that I *don’t* have pink eye like you all thought I did (you b*tches can stop touching me with your elbows now haha). As if I wasn’t uncomfortable enough, the doctor scanned my eye with an ultraviolet light (which always strikes a nerve in the most bizarre part of my body) and it turns out I scratched my cornea and that’s why my eyeball has been extremely irritated these past couple of days… and while the doctor has told me that it’s 75% healed and should mildly sting for the next day or so, to me the pain is something more akin to sticking my face into a crate of exploding dynamite. I was prescribed no antibiotics… no painkillers. I was basically told to walk it off. Oh, and not only do I have to deal with the constant throbbing in my eye without so much as a vicodin to ease my pain, I have to wear a crazy ass eyepatch that covers half of my face for the next twenty four hours. It’s not a cool pirate patch, either. It’s this gigantic gauze pad adhered to my face with what seems to be fifty strips of tape. I came out of the doctor’s office hoping to make a beeline to my car, but Pammie busted up laughing as soon as she saw me. Everyone looked up to see what her crazy ass what laughing at. So much for my quiet exit! I wanted to go out tonight, but it looks like I’ll be staying indoors. That’s for DAMN sure.
This rant was written by a nice girl named Jessica Griffith who finally snapped:
This is my tribute to the nice girls. To the nice girls who are overlooked, who become friends and nothing more, who spend hours fixating upon their looks and their personalities and their actions because it must be they that are doing something wrong. This is for the girls who don’t give it up on the first date, who don’t want to play mind games, who provide a comforting hug and a supportive audience for a story they’ve heard a thousand times. This is for the girls who understand that they aren’t perfect and that the guys they’re interested in aren’t either, for the girls who flirt and laugh and worry and obsess over the slightest glance, whisper, touch, because somehow they are able to keep alive that hope that maybe… maybe this time he’ll have understood. This is an homage to the girls who laugh loud and often, who are comfortable in skirts and sweats and combat boots, who care more than they should for guys who don’t deserve their attention. This is for those girls who have been in the trenches, who have watched other girls time and time again fake up and make up and fuck up the guys in their lives without saying a word. This is for the girls who have been there from the beginning and have heard the trite words of advice, from “there are plenty of fish in the sea,” to “time heals all wounds.” This is to honor those girls who know that guys are just as scared as they are, who know that they deserve better, who are seeking to find it.
This is for the girls who have never been in love, but know that it’s an experience that they don’t want to miss out on. For the girls who have sought a night with friends and been greeted by a night of catcalling, rude comments and explicit invitations that they’d rather not have experienced. This is for the girls who have spent their weekends sitting on the sidelines of a beer pong tournament or a case race, or playing Florence Nightingale for a vomiting guy friend or a comatose crush, who have received a drunk phone call just before dawn from someone who doesn’t care enough to invite them over but is still willing to pass out in their bed. This is for the girls who have left sad song lyrics in their away messages, who have tried to make someone understand through a subliminally appealing profile, who have time and time again dropped their male friend hint after hint after hint only to watch him chase after the first blonde girl in a skirt. This is for the girls who have been told that they’re too good or too smart or too pretty, who have been given compliments as a way of breaking off a relationship, who have ever been told they are only wanted as a friend.
This one’s for the girls who you can take home to mom, but won’t because it’s easier to sleep with a whore than foster a relationship; this is for the girls who have been led on by words and kisses and touches, all of which were either only true for the moment, or never real to begin with. This is for the girls who have allowed a guy into their head and heart and bed, only to discover that he’s just not ready, he’s just not over her, he’s just not looking to be tied down; this is for the girls who believe the excuses because it’s easier to believe that it’s not that they don’t want you, it’s that they don’t want anyone. This is for the girls who have had their hearts broken and their hopes dashed by someone too cavalier to have cared in the first place; this is for the nights spent dissecting every word and syllable and inflection in his speech, for the nights when you’ve returned home alone, for the nights when you’ve seen from across the room him leaning a little too close, or standing a little too near, or talking a little too softly for the girl he’s with to be a random hookup. This is for the girls who have endured party after party in his presence, finally having realized that it wasn’t that he didn’t want a relationship: it was that he didn’t want you. I honor you for the night his dog died or his grandmother died or his little brother crashed his car and you held him, thinking that if you only comforted him just right, or said the right words, or rubbed his back in the right way then perhaps he’d realize what it was that he already had. This is for the night you realized that it would never happen, and the sunrise you saw the next morning after failing to sleep.
This is for the “I really like you, so let’s still be friends” comment after you read more into a situation than he ever intended; this is for never realizing that when you choose friends, you seldom choose those which make you cry yourself to sleep. This is for the hugs you’ve received from your female friends, for the nights they’ve reassured you that you are beautiful and intelligent and amazing and loyal and truly worthy of a great guy; this is for the despair you all felt as you sat in the aftermath of your tears, knowing that that night the only companionship you’d have was with a pillow and your teddy bear. This is for the girls who have been used and abused, who have endured what he was giving because at least he was giving something; this is for the stupidity of the nights we’ve believed that something was better than nothing, though his something was nothing we’d have ever wanted. This is for the girls who have been satisified with too little and who have learned never to expect anything more: for the girls who don’t think that they deserve more, because they’ve been conditioned for so long to accept the scraps thrown to them by guys.
This is what I don’t understand. Men sit and question and whine that girls are only attracted to the mean guys, the guys who berate them and belittle them and don’t appreciate them and don’t want them; who use them for sex and think of little else than where their next conquest will be made. Men complain that they never meet nice girls, girls who are genuinely interested and compelling, who are intelligent and sweet and smart and beautiful; men despair that no good women want to share in their lives, that girls play mind games, that girls love to keep them hanging. Yet, men, I ask you: were you to meet one of these genuinely interested, thrillingly compelling, interesting and intelligent and sweet and beautiful and smart girls, were you to give her your number and wait for her to call… and if you were to receive a call from her the next day and she, in her truthful, loyal, intelligent and straightforward nice girl fashion, were to tell you that she finds you intriguing and attractive and interesting and worth her time and perhaps material from which she could fashion a boyfriend, would you or would you not immediately call your friends to tell them of the “stalker chick” you’d met the night prior, who called you and wore her heart on her sleeve and told the truth? And would you, or would you not, refuse to make plans with her, speak with her, see her again, and once again return to the bar or club or party scene and search once more for this “nice girl” who you just cannot seem to find? Because therein lies the truth, guys: we nice girls are everywhere. But you’re not looking for a nice girl. You’re not looking for someone genuinely interested in your intermural basketball game, or your anatomy midterm grade, or that argument you keep having with your father; you’re looking for a quick fix, a night when you can pretend to have a connection with another human being which is just as disposable as the condom you were using during it.
So don’t say you’re on the lookout for nice girls, guys, when you pass us up on every step you take. Sometimes we go undercover; sometimes we go in disguise: sometimes when that girl in the low cut shirt or the too tight miniskirt won’t answer your catcalls, sometimes you’re looking at a nice girl in whore’s clothing — we might say we like the attention, we might blush and giggle and turn back to our friends, but we’re all thinking the same thing: “This isn’t me. Tomorrow morning, I’ll be wearing a teeshirt and flannel shorts, I’ll have slept alone and I’ll be making my hungover best friend breakfast. See through the disguise. See me.” You never do. Why? Because you only see the exterior, you only see the slutty girl who welcomes those advances. You don’t want the nice girl.. so don’t say you’re looking for a relationship: relationships take time and energy and intent, three things we’re willing to extend — but in return, we’re looking for compassion and loyalty and trust, three things you never seem willing to express. Maybe nice guys finish last, but in the race they’re running they’re chasing after the whores and the sluts and the easy-targets… the nice girls are waiting at the finish line with water and towels and a congratulatory hug (and yes, if she’s a nice girl and she likes you, the sweatiness probably won’t matter), hoping against hope that maybe you’ll realize that they’re the ones that you want at the end of that silly race.
So maybe it won’t last forever. Maybe some of those guys in that race will turn in their running shoes and make their way to the concession stand where we’re waiting; however, until that happens, we still have each other, that silly race to watch, and all the chocolate we can eat (because what’s a concession stand at a race without some chocolate?)
I had the BEST time at D&B’s on Thursday. The set went there for Charlene’s 21st birthday. I don’t think I’ve ever had fun at D&B’s before that. I never looked forward to going (especially on FILIPINO Thursdays)… I should’ve known that a little alcohol could fix that. $7, one Zombie and one Chambord later, I was on a GOOD one. I’m such a cheap date. I’ve NEVER had such a good alcoholic experience. It’s usually fun for a while, then the fun quickly ends with me yakking or hungover… but none of that ish happened this time. Edgar was SOOO mad at me! I drove Trace there, so I was supposed to be able to drive both of us home. I only had two drinks in the span of three hours, so I figured that I would be okay, but that Zombie f*cking killed me… and then Errol bought me a Chambord Sour that I couldn’t pass up… when it hits your lips… YUM. I could barely keep my eyes open. I somehow managed to score a ridiculously high score in skee ball, though! I kept hitting the 50 shot… then I hit the *100* shot… which is like IMPOSSIBLE even when you’re sober. Having Edgar yell at me for being the most irresponsible designated driver ever didn’t even kill my buzz. After much debating that I was OK to drive, Julz ended up driving my car back to Ed’s where we all smoked some candy sheesh (my new favorite) and sobered up with some Mexican food (thanks, ROSS!). Tonight is Errol’s graduation party. He makes me feel terribly old and behind, but I can’t say enough how proud I am of him. Thank goodness he lives up the street from me. This designated driver shit is overrated.
Pictures from our weekend in San Juan Capistrano and Scott’s party have been posted (thanks, Jay, Julz and Edgar!). Yesterday, Jay took me out for breakfast at Hash House in Hillcrest. YUM! That was the most INCREDIBLE breakfast ever. When we got there, he was like… Reservation for Jay. LOL. I’ve never eaten at a place that someone made reservations for me at. These two girls were eating near us and one of their boyfriend’s came in and surprised them with flowers. What the… I almost cried. I’m such a nerd. It was so sweet. These ladies who were waiting to be seated clapped when he was leaving haha. We stopped to check out shoes at Mint and Best Buy for Jay’s weekly visit before he had to go to work. Afterwards, I picked up my SOUL sister, Trace, and went to Grossmont hospital to apply for a job. We went across the street to the mall to stalk Skokie, but he had already gone home from work. Afterwards, we ate at Chipotople and had the BEST girl talk! Lately, I’ve been surrounded by testosterone, so it’s refreshing to vent with a girl. Guys just aren’t built to endure that kind of bitching! Later that night, the set came over to Edgar’s to chill and we beatboxed LOL. I only had one line, but I owned that shit. Haha. Good times!
I’m in a FLAN comatose right now. Too much flan is too much Mayan… Is was so f*cking good, though! Meehchelle’s grandma was trying to kill me with that shit haha. I didn’t know that flan is basically milk and eggs (my tummy’s WORST enemies ever!) I felt like I was going to die this morning. Anyway, I had a pretty chill weekend. On Friday, I went to the movies after work with Edgar, Pammie, Meehchelle, Julz and Skokie. “Kicking and Screaming” was f*cking HILARIOUS. I’m a tornado of anger! Ahahahaha. We smoked some sheesh at Edgar’s afterwards before heading home. Yesterday was Kalana’s birthday party. My sister and I elliptical’d our butts off at the gym earlier in the day and knocked the f*ck out after we showered. We didn’t get to Meehchelle’s parents house until late, so we missed the astrojump! Damn. There was plenty of food left, though… FLAN… ahhh. I got to see GERALD, who I haven’t seen in weeks (only in my dreams… ahahaha), but he leaves today again for some place I can never remember the name of. I miss him and his Axe deodorant. I’m gonna go through Axe withdrawals when he leaves for Iraq for six months. Too bad Edgar is one of those freakishly unsweaty people who doesn’t need deodorant. I told him that he should wear it anyway just to humor me. Scent drives me wild 😉 ANYWAY. Most of Meehchelle’s family had left, and we had our standard poker and hookah session. Meehchelle, Trace and I drank Chambord Sours, but it wasn’t enough for me to get faded (or even buzzed). I haven’t gotten fucked up in a loooong time. I feel like such a square haha. I plan on getting eff’d up in VEGAS this July. Is everyone down to go? I think Edgar is renting out the PENTHOUSE timeshare. Woot! It’s been so long since I’ve allowed myself to lose my inhibitions and have a good time without thinking about shit too much. I’m looking forward to it…
Lauryn Hill – “Tell Him”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/tellhim.mp3]
Now I may have faith to make mountains fall
But if I lack love, then I am nothing at all
I can give away everything I possess
But left without love, then I have no happiness
I know I’m imperfect and not without sin
But now that I’m older all childish things end
and tell him…
I haven’t heard this song since high school, but I remembered every single word when I listened to it recently… It’s weird the way my mind retains potentially useless information, but I can’t remember what I did two days ago or how to get to a place I’ve been to ten thousand times. This weekend was different from weekends past… I barely saw any of my friends and I actually worked the ENTIRE weekend… plus I work tomorrow and Tuesday, also. Five days in a row? It feels like Christmas. I haven’t had a decent paycheck in a while, so I’m not complaining. It feels good to be busy, anyway. On Friday, I kept trying to get a hold of Genevieve so she could cover my shift because I felt nauseous again. No cigar, though. I actually ended up having a pretty good time at work tending to all the Mother’s Day procrastinators… I’ve never seen so many boys shopping for candles. Afterwards, I met up with Edgar, Errol, Julz, Pammie, Vince and Trace to go bowling. I think the earth’s axis shifted or something, because I bowled a MOTHERF*CKING 168! I couldn’t believe it… well, no one could believe it really. I usually score something closer to 60! I had them print my score sheet, because it was probably the first and only time I’d score that well… Sooo many people from the set weren’t there that night. You b*tches missed a milestone. I went home afterwards, while some of the others went to Alex’s to play poker. I never play poker with the set. I usually just have philosophical conversations with Errol or smoke sheesh with Trace and Julz… I feel more comfortable doing that at Edgar’s or Errol’s. On Saturday, I woke up early to go to work and chilled with my cousins in Scripps Ranch afterwards. Today, I went to work and met up with my family afterwards for dinner. We ate at Panda Palace. I ate take out from there last week while watching Fever Pitch by myself, and it just depresses me to eat it now. Sad. Tomorrow I have work at seven in the motherf*cking morning… in La Jolla… so I need to be up in five hours and drive an hour in traffic. F*cking zombie status. Maybe I’ll stop at Coffee Tea Bean & Leaf for some much needed caffeine (I know it’s Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf… Pammie says it the other way, though. Ahahahahahahaha). I don’t even like coffee, but I need something to wake me up at that ungodly hour. Plus I have class after work and I plan on hitting the gym after school, so I need some liquid energy to make it through the day. I’ve been spending so many nights smoking the hookah and sitting on my ass and drinking ten million liters of Coke… I need to treat my body better if I want it to help me pick up sexy motherf*ckers. Haha. Just kidding, Edgar. I’ll just be happier and more fun to be around if I get in shape. I know you’re thinking… Is it POSSIBLE for Mayan to be more fun than she is now? I’m not gonna lie to you. I’ve been holding back. The amount of fun I’m gonna be is illegal in some small countries. You should start preparing yourselves now while I get ready for bed… before midnight! I usually don’t sleep till two or three or FIVE in the morning, but this is the new Mayan. Let the fun begin.
Whenever I’d be out eating with my friends, I’d always feel sorry for those people who were eating at a booth by themselves. I’d come up with hypothetical situations in my head that would cause them to eat alone. Do they not have any friends? Are they on their lunch break from work? Are they single? Did their girlfriend just break up with them? I never used to eat by myself. It just made me feel really lonely. The only time I ate alone was when I was on my lunch break at work, and sometimes not even then… I kind of like the ME time now, but I think that too much time alone gives me too much time to think. I spent most of today by myself. I drove around. I picked up some Chinese take out. I went to the movies and watched Fever Pitch by myself… which made me feel even more lonely because it was a romantic comedy and it was just me and another couple in the theatre. I’ve never watched a movie alone before. I feel crazy laughing with no one around me. I found myself laughing and turning to look at no one to confirm the hilarity of something Jimmy Fallon said during the funny parts. People can’t ALWAYS be with me… Life just doesn’t allow it. I wish I was more independent like Meech or Pammie. Maybe I wouldn’t mind the solitude so much.
I was preheating the oven when my smoke alarm started beeping a couple minutes ago. I looked in the oven and there was a little sausage on fire that fell off the frozen pizza I baked last night. LOL. I was going to reach my bare arm in there to take it out, but I remembered the great oven rack burn of 1998 and thought twice about it. So I put one of those arm-length oven mitts on for protection. It’s really difficult to use tongs when you’re wearing an oven mitt, so it took me a while to get that little b*tch out! And that has been my day so far… and my sister wonders what the hell I do at home by myself haha. Sometimes I blast my iPod and rock out in my panties. Sometimes I take hot showers and fall asleep afterwards (sometimes?). Sometimes I call Edgar and bug him at work. And sometimes I talk to myself. It’s a good thing I’m easily amused. I feel like I should do something productive like go to the gym, but I don’t think my body could handle that kind of strenuous activity right now haha. I think I’ll just take a long, hot shower and take a nap before my night class. Call me if anything’s going on tonight, b*tches!
I had a SUPER weekend with my SUPER crew, CHIPSET. We spent the weekend in San Juan Capistrano (down by the beach, BOY-EEE!). I would say that it was as fun as our weekend in Big Bear, but I missed a CRUCIAL five hours of fun while Pammie and I stepped out for a family shindig. Skokie waited for me for ten billion hours on Friday while the procrastinator that I am packed my things. I still forgot my shampoo, conditioner, shoes… Me? Forget something? That’s strange… We finally got to San Juan around midnight and stayed up smoking raspberry sheesh and shooting the shit till the a.m. hours on the balcony of our hotel room. I tried to keep it down because everytime I laughed, Edgar would walk up to the sliding door from the inside and just point at me. I’m a loud f*ck! I can’t help it… Meehchelle and I were the only ones up after 4 a.m. and we just whispered to each other on the sofa bed with the collective symphony of snoring in the room as our background music. We kept laughing over things like “beef and steak” and sometimes I’d be laughing so hard that I would involuntarily slap the mattress with my hand or snort when I tried to contain my laughter which would just make us laugh even harder. Out of no where, we’d hear Mayannnnn — Edgar telling me to keep it down again. As soon as Meehchelle and I tried to sleep, Edgar’s parents started frying things on the stove and filling coolers with ice to prepare for their roadtrip to San Francisco at 5:30 in the motherf*cking morning. I contemplated pointing my finger at them and giving them the look through the sliding door, but I didn’t think it would work. There was no way I could sleep through that… All the while, the sun starts coming up and it’s not night time anymore so I just realize that sleep isn’t coming and stare at the ceiling listening to the snoring and the frying and the ice shoveling… Most everyone woke up around 6:30 because of the hoopla and turning-on-of-the-lights that happened when Edgar’s parents left the hotel room. I tried watching Amelie with Meehchelle and Skokie, but started dozing off halfway through it. Everyone else started going back to sleep since it was too early to be up at that ungodly hour on a Saturday (except for Trace and Ed who never woke up in the first place). We all got up again around eleven and headed to Dana Point. It was straight up OC in that biatch. I half expected to see LC and Lo sunbathing in their designer bikinis. Traceface and the boys bodyboarded and skimboarded and some people got bruised buttocks in the process haha. Meehchelle and Rome got their tan on while I spent half the time in the frigid water and the other half playing in the sand. We went back to the hotel mid afternoon to eat and chill while I got ready to go to a family party back home with my sister. Gerald brought the largest bottle of Grey Goose I had ever seen in my life to the hotel. They were already drinking it in the afternoon and the chaos ensued after Pammie and I left that night. Before we left San Diego to drive back up there, I called Edgar to see what was going on. Apparantly, Trace (the girl who can hold her liquor like a 300-pound man) had yakked on her pillow and towel and JULIAN. Gerald drank most of the vodka and was — say it with me, Meehchelle — INEBRIATED as the f*ck (thank you, DARWIN, for making me despise that word like I despise strawberry ice cream). When Pammie and I got back to the hotel, Trace was passed out in the bedroom and Gerald was passed out in the balcony, periodically waking up to yak in the cooler of all places. He ended up taking a two-hour shower, while the rest of the boys and Pammie played poker. I tried watching Oceans 12, but kept falling asleep again. That sofabed is death. People had the munchies at three in the morning, so Pammie and Jay went on a Del Taco run, since that was the only restaurant open (what is UP with this town?). I had a reeeally good sleep that night, so it made up for the lack of sleep on Friday. When I woke up on Sunday, Rome, Julian and Jay had gone back home to SD and the rest of us got our things together to go home, too. We chilled at Errol’s for a bit, played with the cute babies, and I went home to take a superhot and relaxing shower and nap of course (I really need a robe, guys). Later that night, Pammie, Edgar, Errol and I went to Del Mar for the Jason Mraz show and met up with Kristine. Pammie got hit on and didn’t even know it. We met up with Jay and Julian afterwards to eat at Tyler’s and then went to Sycuan to feed our gambling addiction. I’m home now and looking forward to Edgar’s party this weekend. Fun times as always with the CHIPSET (you know how we do!).
Last night was an avencha as Mark would say. Pammie, Meehchelle and I decided to try out Amarin Thai, this restaurant that Kelly from work recommended. The three of us should not be allowed to drive alone together! Meehchelle has horrible night vision since her prescription expired during the Clinton regime LOL. She missed the exit, turned around and was thisclose to missing the same exit again… She couldn’t read the street names or the big sign that said DIP haha. I am a TERRIBLE navigator. I told Meehchelle to exit and it was the wrong street. We tried to turn around and ended up at a dead end… So we went back the other way and ended up in North Park… you DO NOT want to be driving through residential North Park in the middle of the night without your gat strapped! I decided that it was a good time to relinquish my navigating duties and gave the directions to Pammie… who just handed them back to me because she can’t read in the car without getting nauseous! Somehow, we finally reached Amarin Thai half an hour before it closed and without any puncture wounds. It was SO worth it. You would think with all our trips to Hillcrest for good eats, we would have gotten there without a hitch, but with my poor navigating skills and Meehchelle’s inability to see at night and Pammie’s refusal to see words while in motion… I guess it just wasn’t in the stars. After dinner, we chilled at The Living Room and went to Errol’s for the standard hookah and poker night. Tonight, we’re going bowling and I think we’re gonna hit up gravity hill so I can see what all the hoo-ha is about (thanks for the invite earlier this week, biatches! haha). For those of you who don’t know about gravity hill in SD, it’s this place in Sorrento Valley. If you park on the left side of the bottom of the hill and put your car in neutral, your car will move backwards UP the hill on its own. There’s this myth that says that there were once train tracks that ran through that road and these children were run over there. It’s been said that the children are pushing your car up the hill so you won’t get run over. I’ve heard that if you put baby powder on the front of your car, you can see the children’s handprints after your car moves up the hill. Jesus of the Christ. I’ve got goose pimples just blogging about it. I’m gonna go now.
Je veux apprendre comment parler Français. Je naviguerai avec vous si vous m’enseignez comme Bianca et Cameron dans Dix Choses Je Déteste Au Sujet De Vous. Traduisez ceci.
I’m annoyed by girls who wear Coach signature shoes to match their Coach signature purse (and their Coach signature belt and fedora… and sometimes… when it’s raining… their Coach signature umbrella). I’m a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl, while my boyfriend owns a Lacoste polo shirt in every conceivable color. My friends are shoe heads who spend hundreds of dollars on limited edition Nikes, while I’ve worn the same pair of Vans for more than a year (and before that, a pair of Converse shoes that I retired after two years because water would seep through the holes and soak my socks when it rained). Now that I’ve tried to convince you that I’m anti fashion, let me negate all that by exposing my guilty obsession with Gucci sunglasses. I ♥ them! I’m so ashamed. I’ve had the same pair of Guccis for four years. I still wear them even though my prescription changed two years ago. I’ve been looking for another pair to replace them, and I’ve found the perfect ones. I’ve spent hours staring at them online to feed my obsession… and now I’ve just seen Kanye West rocking them. I must have them!
It’s raining. Again. Luckily, I don’t have work or school this week, so I can stay off the roads as much as possible. I have to put air in my tires later today so I’m reading instructions because this is something I’ve never done before! I was going to have Edgar do it, but he has work… Maybe I’ll have Jay do it later 😉 I’ll probably give myself flat tires if I attempt to do it on my own. Anyway, I’m home from Texas. That was the longest weekend of my entire life. We drove 24 hours straight to and from Texas (well I didn’t drive, of course). We saw Roxy for like.. two seconds. She got married, had the reception at her husband’s house, then left the reception to consummate her marriage before I could even have cake! LOL. Oh, man. Let me tell you about TEXAS. It is the wackest state I have ever step foot in! The groomsmen asked us if we wanted to go clubbing with them (I use the term lightly). We were like, F*CK YEAH! The night was still young. We decided to skip South Padre Island where all the spring breakers were partying, because it would have taken us two hours to get there. We hit up a local club called GRAHAM Central Station… WTF. It had a $6 cover charge and six different rooms. There was karaoke, 70s, salsa, country, hip hop and some other one I can’t remember. We stayed in the hip hop room and the DJ rotated the SAME four tracks! There were people in COWBOY HATS dancing to hip hop. Most of the people couldn’t dance. There was this girl that had to be at least 250 pounds wearing this bathing suit with strategic cut outs dancing with her rolls flapping about… and no one thought this was disturbing but us. The only thing good about the club were the $2 test tube shots… which I couldn’t drink because I was the DD for the night. I hope you had a good time, b*tches! Haha. I definitely needed some alcohol to enjoy myself at this place… Texas is also full of Whataburger fast food joints, so we decided to try it. Shi placed her order first for cheese fries. Then the rest of us placed orders after her for entire meals. We all got our food before her and I even ate my whole meal by the time she got her food. She asked them where her food was, and they brought it to her table. They gave her a box of fries and a SLICE OF CHEESE in a wrapper. OH HELL NO. We couldn’t stop laughing over that shit. I guess cheese fries has a different meaning over there. As if this trip couldn’t get any worse, Edgar got a speeding ticket on the way home for doing 80 in a 70. The cop had his lights turned off and was facing the opposite directing of traffic and right when we passed his covert ass, he turned his lights on and turned around and followed us. I don’t know about New Mexican laws, but you have to at least have your parking lights on and be visible to passing cars if you’re a cop in California. He was like… You have two options. You can plead guilty and mail in $80 for your ticket, or contest it in court. Like Edgar’s gonna drive TWELVE hours to New Mexico to contest an $80 ticket! Then, to add more salt to the wound, Edgar’s friends called him up and said that they partied with C.S. Keys at Harrah’s for his FOX sports show and got drunk with him in the limo he picked them up in… all while Edgar was having a horrible weekend and just got a speeding ticket… Then they told Edgar that C.S. Keys invited them to do it again on April 2nd… and he can’t go again because he RSVP’d to go to a paid-dinner family party with me at the Double Tree Hotel. He must REALLY hate being my boyfriend right now LOL.
I was watching Unwrapped and they said that gelatin is made of the collagen in cow or pig bones, hooves, and connective tissues… *THROWS UP* Gelatin is in Jell-O, cream cheese, cake frosting, marshmallows and my candy of choice… GUMMYBEARS. I don’t know if I can eat them now. I’m repulsed beyond belief.
Anyway, Chicago was LOVELY. I’ve never been so effin cold in my life! I miss the snow. I miss my seester. I miss eating at White Castle (don’t be jealous, b*tches!). I don’t miss the airplane rides, though (or O’hare airport!). I f*cking hate riding on airplanes. I’m not good at sitting still for long periods of time… especially in cramped spaces… where my hair sticks to the walls from all the static… and the stewardesses spend 99% of their time in first class (where Josh Kalis – a pro skateboarder – was sitting and eating a McFlurry! Damn, you’re FLY!). I don’t know how my sister does it. Flying to different cities and working all the time and living out of a suitcase. I’m immobile as f*ck. I would make a horrible military wife, because I would hate to move around… find a new job… adjust to the weather… San Diego has ruined me. Pammie is so damn SUCCESSFUL! Flying me to see her in Chicago. Buying me anything I want. I’m so jealous! I’m terribly poor and STILL in college and STILL living off of my parents. I need to get to PAMMIE status, so I can get out of Stone Point and start the next phase in my life. I really need to get my shit together. Pammie’s looking into buying a house here in San Diego while I’m wondering whether or not I have 75¢ to buy me a mall employee-discounted drink at Cinnabon during my break at work. Wow, that’s just sad. Anyway, all I’m hoping for is that I get accepted into CSU Fullerton this fall… since that’s the ONLY university I applied to. If I don’t get in, I’m toast! My father is DEATH when it comes to my studies.
…I don’t want to talk about school anymore. I wanted to blog about my Chicago trip and instead I’ve talked about cow hooves and discounted soda. I had a blast! It was the weekend before St. Patrick’s Day and there’s a HUGE Irish population there. Everyone gathered downtown to DYE THE RIVER GREEN. Is that madness, or what? There were two parades and everyone was sporting green. We shopped on Michigan Avenue, visited the Michael Jordan statue at United Center, went to an expo at Navy Pier, ate a Chicago hot dog (but no deepdish pizza… too hardcore!), went to Wicker Park and saw Kurt Halsey’s beautiful art in person, ate White Castle like Harold and Kumar, freezed our asses off and when we got tired, we went back to the hotel and watched Law and Order: SVU. LOL. Just like home. I’m going to Texas in a couple days for Rox’s wedding. After this weekend, it’ll be nice to be on spring break back home in San Diego for a while… March has been a crazy ass month for me.
So last night we all gathered at Errol’s house (sans Pammie and Meehchelle) to watch the Big Bear video. OMG. Effin HILARIOUS! The camera was on at times we weren’t aware, so we were caught doing some pretty funny shit! WOP! Hahahahaha. How gay was it to be filmed while we posed for like 50 timed camera shots? Too bad the camera wasn’t on when Meehchelle, Julz and Pammie slipped and fell on their butts! It’s so painful to watch yourself on TV. The camera adds like ten pounds, too (how many cameras were on me?). I kept thinking… Is that what I look like? Anyway, we’re trying to get Rome to hook us all up with DVDs of the VHS tape… Someone told me this could be done 😉 I f*cking ♥ technology. Right now I’m loving life (most parts, anyway). Looking forward to my weekend in CHICAGO with Pammie! My mom just came home right now and gave me some thermal underwear for the trip. X-LARGE MEN’S thermal underwear. For the love of God! She said it was the smallest size they had… and it was on clearance. Ah, who cares. I’ll wear baggy thermal underwear under my clothes as long as I get to do it in CHICAGO!
Best weekend EVER! I had SO much fun in Big Bear with Pammie, Edgar, Gerald, Meehchelle, Vince, Tracee, Julian, Errol, Jay and Brian. We met up at Edgar’s house around three in the morning and got to Big Bear around 6 a.m. I almost threw up from all the curvy roads driving up the mountain (you weren’t kidding, Chel!). I was seriously dry heaving in the Starbucks bathroom. We stopped on the side of the road to take pictures of the beautiful snow and people were injured! LOL LOL LOL. Meehchelle was the first one to slip and fall on her butt… Julian slipped on the ice, scraped his arm, and slid halfway under the van… Pammie was so distracted laughing at Julian that she lost her balance and slipped also. Haha. We were a little early for the slopes so we stopped by our cabin to check it out. “Our Place” was so cute with it’s little bobsled course on the side of it. We went to Bear Mountain afterwards… just up the street from our cabin! It took Pammie and Meehchelle ten years to get their rentals, so Edgar, Jay and I waited for them while the rest of the set hit up the slopes. Errol, Julian, Brian and Vince turned into pro-snowboarders in the hour it took us to get everything settled. WTF? This was my third time snowboarding, and I still sucked hardest core. Meehchelle and I have accepted the fact that we are uncoordinated and anti anything that requires physical skill. Haha. Gerald did his best to instruct us, but I almost took him down the mountain with my ungraceful ass. All the while, Pammie and Tracee and the boys were zooming past us like effin pros! Meehchelle and I are scared of breaking our legs and dying, so I think our fear keeps us from being able to snowboard. That and our lack of balance. We decided that we were over boarding and headed down the slope to chill with Jay (who refused to snowboard because he almost cracked his sternum in half the last time we went!). We ate some $10 Disneyland meals and took some much needed naps in the lodge. Everyone gathered around mid-afternoon to go back to the cabin. It was snowing really hard at this point and the toasty cabin was so comforting. We all took showers (some of ours were ICE COLD…. Thanks, JULIAN!) and chilled for the rest of the night. Jay made us spaghetti and we made s’mores in the fireplace. Pammie bought like ten thousand Hershey bars from the market down the street LOL. It was like we were at home. We rocked the Magic Mic, smoked hookah, played poker and drank. I fell asleep on the couch during Julian’s rendition of some Time Life Soul song and woke up at 11 p.m. thinking that it was four in the morning. We were all so tired from not sleeping the night before and being out in the snow all day. Everyone decided to go to sleep, so Gerald and Ed slept downstairs while the rest of us went upstairs to get ready for bed. I wasn’t sleepy since I had just woken up from my nap, so I went downstairs to make some hot chocolate. Brian, Julian and Errol were in the kitchen wide awake, too. I could hear Pammie, Jay and Meehchelle laughing their asses off upstairs. I guess we weren’t going to sleep after all. I went upstairs and had some hilarious times that will remain unmentioned! Errol and Julian went in our room because we were loud as f*ck. Julian kept saying, “Let’s go sledding!” Crazy ass! It was like 30 degrees out and pitch black. We found a birthday card from 1999 in one of the books in the room and were freaked out. We also saw this blank VHS tape downstairs and were afraid to see what was on it. Pammie, Meehchelle and I were convinced that our cabin was haunted. We tried to go to bed after that, but we heard some scary shit in the walls and I was like, “Meehchelle, is that you?” and she was like, “NO! What the hell was that?” and so we opened the light (LOL Meehchelle) and left it on for the rest of the night. I woke up at six in the mother effin morning to Meehchelle saying, “Mayan, isn’t that your phone?” because the alarm on my cell phone was going off downstairs. Dammit! I couldn’t go back to sleep and my alarm had woken up only Gerald LOL. We made breakfast while everyone slowly started waking up. Julian and Edgar snowboarded off some sweet jumps outside while Meehchelle and Vince built an Asian snowman. The rest of us got our stuff together and cleaned the house. Before we left, we took solo pictures with a big, black cock (literally) and group shots in front of the cabin and with the snowman. I miss that place already! On our way home, we stopped at Ontario Mills for lunch at Market Broiler and some crazy impulse shopping. All together, I think we bought like eight pairs of shoes and some other random shit! Damn, ballers (AKA broke asses after this weekend!). Meehchelle, Pammie and I rode with Gerald on the way home and played my favorite game… Would you rather…? Like… Would you rather be with someone who you’re in love with, but isn’t in love with you or with someone who’s in love with you, but you don’t love? That’s how it started… Then the questions took an unexpected turn into Filthy McNastyville! LOL. I know more about my friends than I ever wanted to after this weekend! Haha. I ♥ my friends to death. Meehchelle said that she’s going to write the Book of Mayan filled with random quotes by me. I admit that I say some pretty stupid things! I can be so dense at times. All my friends have accepted it. I think I’ve been spending too much time with Meehchelle because she was pulling Mayans all weekend! She needs to represent WTF with me and Trace! I’ll post pictures up from this weekend soon, so look out for that big, black cock in photos to come!
I’ve decided to name my new fish “Jelly” because of my obsession with Garden State. I considered naming him “Walter” because he looks like an old man with his crazy underbite, but I think that “Jelly” suits him. I think he’s really warming up to me. When I first got him, he was all hiding in the rocks and wouldn’t eat his Betta Bites until I left the kitchen (where he lives). Now whenever I go near him, he violently shakes his tiny fins until I feed his crazy ass. I guess he’s my fish. My dad’s scared to get attached to him since G-Funk bit the dust out of no where haha. So this weekend I’ll be in Big Bear SNOWBOARDING with the set! FUN TIMES! I can’t wait. Then next weekend I’m flying to CHICAGO to visit Pammie while she’s working there. I am SO scared of flying. I just keep thinking that I’m going to die in a horrible plane crash. That’s all. I don’t know how my sister flies back and forth every weekend. I would die. I’m excited because it might be snowing AND Mr. Kurt Halsey himself just so happens to be having an exhibit at Wag Artworks in Wicker Park in CHICAGO! So I get to see his beautiful paintings in person. I will probably cry from all the beauty. The weekend after that I’m taking a (LONG ASS) road trip to Texas with my girls and Edgar for Roxy’s wedding. The weekend after that I’ll be in Temecula for Roxy’s California reception. The weekend after that is Rhea’s debut that Chelface has been working so hard on. The weekend after that I’ll stop saying “the weekend after that.” Because there’s nothing going on the weekend after that.
Last weekend, I picked Pammie up from the airport and it took us TWO HOURS to get home… from the SAN DIEGO airport (which is like twenty minutes away from my house). It all started when my gas light went on. I drove to the gas station down the street from my house and saw that I had $2 in my pocket. That’s not even enough for ONE gallon of regular unleaded gas in San Diego… My sister offered to fill up my tank with her corporate credit card, so we had to find another gas station since Arco only takes debit cards. I drove down the street to another gas station. There were cars parked next to the pumps, so I assumed that the gas station was open (I mean, what gas station CLOSES?). I took off my gas cap and tried to take the nozzle off the pump holder when I noticed a padlock attached to it. I looked around and noticed that there were cars at the pumps but no one actually pumping gas into them. I asked myself, “Do I need to ask them for a key or something?” Some things sound good in my head and then I say it out loud and they don’t sound so good anymore. I drove off and took the loooong way to Rancho SD to get gas at Mobil. That’s when I noticed that I drove off without putting my gas cap back on at the other gas station. After getting gas, I drove back to the other gas station to see if my gas cap was still there. It wasn’t. I left it on the trunk of my car, so it really could have fallen off anywhere. I kept saying, “I can’t believe I did that!” but really… I could believe it. I’m such a geek. I always do shit like that! So I go back to Mobil because my sister worked there back in the day and said that people always left their gas caps so they always had extra caps at the station. She told me to tell them that I got gas there earlier that day (which I did), and left my gas cap there (which I didn’t) so that they would give me a gas cap. I’m a horrible liar. HORRIBLE. I’m convinced that the gas attendant knew I was lying. He offered me no gas caps. Now I have to BUY a gas cap at Autozone or something. I’m SUCH an idiot.
It’s four o’clock in the morning and I’m taking an extended break from cramming for my history midterm. I’ve been drinking hot tea all night trying to stay awake, but I’m convinced that drinking an excessive amount of Coke over the years has made me immune to the stimulating effects of caffeine. My mom drinks coffee at three in the morning and still manages to fall asleep directly afterwards. Maybe it’s hereditary. I feel like I’m getting sick… which is very likely, because I always get sick before I’m about to do something fun. And in the cold. Like go snowboarding with my friends in Big Bear. I keep sneezing and my left eye is all itchy and watery. My dad was sick and my sister was sick and Gerald and Meehchelle are sick. It was bound to happen. I may be immune to stimulants, but I ALWAYS get sick whenever someone within a five-mile radius of me is sick. Plus it’s been raining like crazy in San Diego. The reservoir down the street from my house is overflowing. I remember when it didn’t rain for like a year or two straight and you couldn’t even see the reservoir because it had dried up. I usually ♥ the rain, but this is madness. I drive like 40MPH on the freeway in the rain. People are zooming past me at like 70MPH and I just keep my hands on ten and two and shake my head at their senselessness. After spinning out on the freeway in the pouring rain, I’ve been skerd to drive during even the slightest inclination of dampness. I’m a terrible California driver whose great fear is dying in a horrific car accident. Anyway, I had a bad day today. I think I’m just letting my monetary problems get to me. My second job only gives me part-time shifts on the weekends. My school schedule during the week makes it impossible for my other job to give me enough hours in between my classes. I have three bills a month that are automatically debited from my checking account, so it’s not like I could SKIP a payment, even if I wanted to. My boyfriend doesn’t get enough hours at his job either, so we’re seriously the most poverty-stricken couple EVER. When it’s REALLY bad, we combine our money just so we could take out a twenty at the ATM! Gah. It’s like I’m a struggling artist already. Except I’m not even working as an artist yet. I’m just STRUGGLING. I refuse to ask my parents to help me, because my dad got me out of the hole during the great credit card fiasco of 2000 when I max’d out four credit cards and owed over $2,000. I had just turned eighteen and went a little crazy. I see how happy my parents are about my sister being this über successful auditor travelling around the country, and I would hate to disappoint them again. Pammie knows about my situation and said she would help me out, but I hate borrowing money from her and proving my dad right. There are far less things I hate more than my dad being right about me.
It’s been a while since I last posted. I just haven’t had anything exciting happen these past couple of weeks. This past weekend just flew by. On Friday, I had a SUPER day at work. I picked up my sister from the airport at three in the mother effin morning! Gah. I drove up to the OC with Edgar, Pammie and my mom on Saturday. My sister had some things to pick up at her work and my mom wanted to shop at Southcoast and Edgar wanted to come along for the ride haha. We went bowling with the set that night and everyone was doing hella good except for me with my 70. I’m usually a MACHINE! That’s what Mike Le says anyway. Too bad the usuals couldn’t come (Gerald and Meehchelle are both sick 🙁 Jay and Mike were in Vegas). We just hung out at Errol’s afterwards. On Sunday, Pammie flew back to Chicago, and I had two dinners! One with my family and another with Sheryll and Joey’s families for Sheryll’s birthday. The bill at Emerald was over $400. CHRIST. That’s like My Super Sweet 16 worthy. Speaking of which, those teenagers make me ILL. I get so mad watching that show, but I can’t stop watching it. LOL. It’s an addiction! Like Laguna Beach! I’m so embarassed. Two of the five episodes they’ve aired of My Super Sweet 16 focused on girls from La Jolla, CA. I work in freakin’ La Jolla. I’m just waiting for one of those biatches to walk into my store. I really can’t stand little rich girls like that (and there are SOOOO many in La Jolla). La Jolla in San Diego is equivalent to Beverly Hills in LA. Or Laguna Beach in the OC. That’s why I was surprised when they filmed The Real World, San Diego, in Point freakin’ Loma instead of La Jolla. It smells like fish over there. Awww, speaking of fish… G-Funk died (R.I.P!) so I bought another betta for my dad since he was so upset about it. I spent about fifteen minutes at Petco trying to find the right one. I don’t know what we’re gonna name him. My mom calls him G-Funk #2. Maybe we’ll just call him #2 for short. Or just #. Like Prince.
I want a Kurt Halsey archival giclee for Valentine’s Day. Or for any day actually. President’s Day is also coming up. If you bought me an original painting, I would name my first-born after you. Kurt Halsey is such a beautiful artist. *SIGH* Right now I’m drinking tea that I brewed from my mom’s coffee maker. It kinda tastes like coffee. BLEH. I keep forgetting how bad it tastes and drinking it. I should really stick a post-it note to my monitor so I’ll remember not to drink it. That’s pretty sad, huh? I’ve really got to do some memory exercises or something. I’m that waitress at Denny’s who forgets to bring you the flippin’ ranch dressing you’ve asked me for a billion times. Anyway, I might be taking a class at Mesa College this semester, too. Southwestern, Grossmont AND Mesa? I’m all over this godforsaken city. South, east, north… I should work in the west to balance it all out. I have this design class at Southwestern in the morning that I have to wake up butt-early at 6am for and I’m soooo not a morning person. Skokie asked me what happened to the barista who used to wake up at five in the morning to work at Starbucks. I think I left her ass there when I quit last month (along with my gray hoodie. Drat!). It’ll be much easier to take the night class at Mesa on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Oh well, I have till this Friday to decide since Mesa just started this week and I can still drop that Southwestern course without receiving a W (as if I need another one of those on my transcript the semester before I plan on transferring). I wanted to enroll in Paul Berger’s art history class, but there’s no way I can do that and still have enough availability to get more than eight flippin’ hours a week at work. There was this Hallmark commercial I saw last night that showed this woman walking into this grumpy old man’s office. She’s in her thirties and she says that she used to be a student of his but he doesn’t recognize her. She gives him a Hallmark card that says something along the lines of him planting a seed and not knowing how they turn out and then on the inside it says something like he has planted many seeds and they are all growing even if he doesn’t see them (I know that’s a horrible recap, sorry!). Anyway, he says this phrase and it’s the title of the paper this woman wrote when she was in his class. He remembers her. She turns to leave and he asked her what she’s done with her life… Become a banker..? An internet guru? And she turns around and tells him that she became a TEACHER. Cue the waterworks. Story of my life! I should sue Hallmark for copyright infringement.
Looking for a job is a job in and of itself. This will be my THIRD job in the past six months! Gah. Red Envelope has ruined me. I ♥ my Illuminations girls, but I hate the 30-minute commute back and forth, the traffic, the scarce distribution of hours, and the $87 paycheck I just received for two weeks. I made more than $87 in ONE DAY working at Red Envelope. I want to get a job at the bank, but my crazy school schedule won’t really permit it since most banks aren’t open in the evening or Sundays. Hopefully Meehchelle can hook me up with a teacher’s assistant job at Sylvan in Bonita or La Mesa. Or maybe The Living Room will hire me, since they’re open till two in the morning every day. Errol said he’d visit me in between classes at SDSU if I worked there. Hehe. I’m sure I’d be seeing a lot of Meehchelle, too 😉 Anyway, I hope I get this whole work situation settled within the next month. If you know someplace nearby that’s hiring and you think I wouldn’t mind working there, please give me a call. Hopefully, my cell phone won’t be disconnected by the time you read this.
Spring semester started at Southwestern today. It’s kinda weird to be back there during a regular semester, but I think I’m really going to enjoy it. My classes aren’t too difficult (FUN, even) and my teachers have all been approved at ratemyprofessor.com haha. I’m most excited about taking ceramics with PAUL BERGER 🙂 I had him for design class over the summer last year and I swear he changed my life. He is just this amazing teacher and person, and I left the class feeling INSPIRED. I decided that I might want to get my teaching credentials after my B.A. so that I can teach art. I want to be somebody’s Paul Berger. I want my life to have purpose and I want to inspire others, and I think I’ll be able to do that through art. I don’t even NEED this ceramics class, but I’m attending two three-hour sessions a week because he really is the most amazing teacher I’ve ever had. I hadn’t been back to Southwestern since the summer I took his art class, and I got all nostalgic being in the same classroom today. It smelled the same. One of the projects we did was still tacked to the wall. The same dingy, unclaimed sweater still hung on top of the ceiling beams. It was kind of sad, really. I took that design class with Pammie and Edgar, and I miss going to school with them. I was always really happy in Paul’s class, and I suppose I’m trying to capture the same feeling by taking another one of his classes. It felt really good seeing him today, and I’m very excited about the class, so I guess it’s working. His class is my last one in the afternoon, so I got in my car afterwards and turned on the radio and FRANZ FERDINAND was playing! That was me and Pammie’s theme song that summer. Paul always played 94.9 while we worked, and Pammie and I would get so amp’d when they played Franz’s “Take Me Out!” I think it was a sign 🙂 Anyway, I called Skokie to see if he was at home down the street and wanted some afternoon delight (AKA Yokozuna’s!) and he was at work, so I just went home and ate there. I had a few hours to kill before my night class, so I went to the gym to firm up my wobbly bits. Then I went back to Southwestern for my night class and got out early. I called up Edgar, but he and Jay were going to the gym, so I headed over to Grossmont to refresh Skokie with the Jamba Juice he kept asking me to bring him, and chilled for a bit. We had dinner at BJ’s Brewery (there goes all that cardio I did earlier!) where I was attacked by an avocado appetizer (because I don’t know how to eat without making a mess and using 10,000 napkins). I ordered the french dip (damn, I’m predictable!), but only ate half of it because I really wasn’t hungry. I was there more for the company than the food. I only got three hours of sleep the night before, so Skokie told me I should go home and sleep because I’m still sick and all… but I ended up going to Jay’s to hang out with the boys and give Edgar my leftovers. I went home around one in the morning, but now it’s 4:00 a.m. and I have to take Jay to his doctor’s appointment at 10:30 a.m. for his bum knee. I should probably go to bed now. I’ve really got to get into the habit of having a semi-normal sleeping pattern now that school has started.
So I got into an accident today. My first accident EVER (with another car at least). I’m surprised I didn’t get into one sooner with my horrible driving skills. I was driving around the lot at UTC looking for a parking space. I see this family walk to their car near the top of the aisle, so I post it on the side waiting for them to move out of their parking spot. I pick some lint off my pants, change the song on my ipod, drum my fingers on the steering wheel… all the while thinking WTF is this biatch doing??? I’m gonna be flippin’ late for work! I was sitting there FOREVER. There was this parked van blocking my view of the car I expected to pull out, so I moved up to see if they punk’d me and just went to their car to drop their things off and weren’t really leaving. But sure enough, as soon as I move forward and throw up my arms to give them the universal sign for “what the f*ck?” I see their reverse lights go on. So I back up no more than one foot and then BAM. I hit a Mercedes F*CKING Benz! I was off to the side of the aisle so that cars could still pass through the aisle while I waited an eternity for the parked car to pull out, so I scuffed the front right corner of the Mercedes with the back left corner of my car. I got out of the car thinking UNF*CKINGBELIEVABLE and I see my white paint on her car, but no dents… There was this huge black scratch on it and when she saw the look on my face she said that the scratch was already there. I started touching the paint scuffs with my fingers and the paint started rubbing off. She said “I could probably get it buffed out” but who knows what she’s gonna do. She drives a freakin Mercedes and wrote my insurance information down on a Pottery Barn card. Why couldn’t I have hit some janky ass car whose driver had no license and insurance? Haha. Damn you, UTC! *shakes fist* To make me even more upset, the lady who took a jillion years to back out her car so I could take her spot had the audacity to get out of her car and rudely tell me to MOVE MY CAR so she could get her car out. UGH! I was so frustrated, so the tears started flowing when I finally parked my car. I walked to my store crying on the phone to Edgar when I passed my boss. She stopped to make sure I was okay to work. She probably thought someone died or something LOL. Who the hell gets worked up over a freakin fender bender? Mayan does! My deductible is $500 dude. I have enough money problems as is. Of course my WONDERFUL weekend would be offset by this. Oh, well. It could’ve been worse, right? I seem to be saying that a lot lately.
I started this blog over the weekend bitching about the third parking ticket I received this year alone in the OC last week (the second in SD and the first in LA—it’s like I’m trying to be ticketed in every city). Now that San Diego’s going down in flames, it all seems so trivial. I can see one of the five fires burning around SD from my own backyard in the Valley. Besides having class canceled during the 
Attention, unmarried people of America: You can splurge on a fancy new wrist watch without having to explain yourself. You can stay out till 3 a.m. without having to phone home. You can leave the toilet seat up. In fact, there are many, many ways that single life rocks, though you may forget that fact when your relatives are grilling you about settling down. Not only do you have the freedom to do anything you want—it’s also the best time in history to be flying solo. Want more specifics on why you should celebrate being single?
Rocky would be so much happier if you bought him this 
So you’re shopping on Melrose and you only have, oh, let’s say, $5.96. (I’m just throwing a number out there.) You can either try and find something affordably vintage at Wasteland or buy a cup of deliciousness at 
I could go on and on about my love for Pinkberry, but instead I’ll tell you about my awesome weekend in LA. I had work till eleven o’clock at night all last week, and looking forward to this weekend was the only thing keeping me sane. I drove up after work on Friday and crashed at Pammie’s in the OC. Shi and Chel were fading in and out of sleep by the time I got there at one! The four of us went shopping at Southcoast before having lunch at Auntie Em’s Kitchen in Eagle Rock afterwards. Their cupcakes were featured on Bobby Flay’s Throwdown and Pammie’s been raving about them ever since. We didn’t get to try their famous red velvet cupcakes, because the biatch in front of us snagged the last two. Oh, well. She was really skinny and needed the cupcakes more than we did. They had really good food there otherwise, and we got to try the chocolate and carrot cake cupcakes (our favorite!).
Afterwards, we hit up 
On Sunday, Pammie and I slept in and ate a late lunch at Sonic Burger—Yet another food chain I wish they had in SD. I don’t know why they tease us with Sonic commercials on TV when they only have one location in the OC for everyone in southern California to eat at. There’s upwards of ten Sonic Burgers up north in Bakersfield. There is nothing to do in Bakersfield. I’m sure that all anyone does there is eat at one of the many Sonic Burgers they have to choose from. And that would be perfectly fine by me. We hit up the Beverly Center where we weathered the most annoying elevators I have ever been on and returned my only purchase from Southcoast the day before. We ate a vegetarian dinner at M Café de Chaya with my cousin and her friend who both live in LA. It was the only healthy thing I ate all weekend. The best part though was that M Café was right next door to Pinkberry on Melrose. I had me some more Pinkberry goodness (with MOCHI topping this time… FYI you have to ask for it because it’s not on the menu). By the time we had gotten back to our cars, both my cousin and I had received parking tickets for having our cars parked on the street after six! I looked around and found a very confusing parking sign, and clearly, it wasn’t confusing to just me because every car parked on that street had a parking ticket. Apparently, these
Taking this photo at Edgar’s last weekend of the old Mcdonald’s crew (or as Julz calls us… “the 25 & up crowd”) got us reminiscing about when we all used to work there together. Nearly a decade later, and I’m still hanging out with the same people. They say that I’m not much different now than I was back in the day. I guess it’s true when I’m reminded of stories like this…
