Don't Stop Believin'

Recent goings-on

2011-09-22T12:42:00.000-07:00

Let's get right to it!

That trip I took to Maine with Rad Boyfriend? AWESOME. We arrived in Boston late Friday night and I promptly came down with the worst case of... uh... stomach problems I've ever had. (I blame the airport Chinese food I ate in Newark. I always blame New Jersey.) Things cleared up (for the most part) on Saturday for the wedding of our awesome friends, Nick and Liz. Great times were had by all!

Sunday morning we took a bus up to Augusta, Maine where we rented a car and drove the rest of the way to Bangor. LONG RIDE, people. Not short. But definitely fun =)

Our week in Maine was.... wow. We had such a great time. I would post photos, but alas, they are not on the computer which I am currently using. I can't even begin to describe how beautiful Maine is. Mountains, lakes, rivers, oceans, views as far as the eye can see. I don't think I've been anywhere more scenic since... well maybe ever!

We swam, we hiked, we ate delicious delicious lobster, we gift-shopped, we slept, we ate a lot more than lobster, we drank and then we slept some more. I rode a tractor, watched pigs eat RB's boots, walked dogs, chased chickens, kissed a Flemish giant, and tried my hardest not to make a fainting goat actually faint. (We were told by RB's parents that such activity was strictly prohibited. Despite the fact that they have A FAINTING GOAT! I know, right?)

And that's pretty much how I spent my vacation. Good times. Now back to real life, aka decorating our apartment and cooking up a storm. Oh, and we recently purchased one of these because we're getting one of these!!

SQUEEE!!!!!

A proper New England vacation

2011-08-08T09:56:00.000-07:00

Next weekend I have the honor of attending what will surely go down in history as the most wicked awesome wedding there ever was. Here's why: for one, it's my good friends Liz and Nick who are getting married and they are perhaps the most wicked awesome couple I know. For another, the wedding is taking place outside of Boston, so I know that the swordfish I've pre-selected for my meal will be fantastic. And lastly, both the bride and groom have phenomenal taste in music and friends, which pretty much guarantees that this wedding will be both wicked and awesome. And here's where the reception is taking place:

If this isn't the cutest venue for a Massachusetts wedding, I don't know what is.

After the nuptials, Rad Boyfriend and I will be heading north--to Maine!

Bass Harbor Lighthouse, Acadia National Park

I don't know if I've ever mentioned this before, but RB is from Maine. I've heard Maine is absolutely gorgeous in the summertime and I am so excited to finally get to see it--with a proper tour guide!

Our short list of things to do includes: hiking, swimming, playing with the animals on his parents' farm, and visiting Bar Harbor.

Oh, and I fully plan on gorging myself on about 10 of these:

Can you say delicious lobster roll? I can. And I've been practicing calling it a "lobstah roll" so that I can ~~properly order one~~ embarrass RB when we finally sit down to eat one.

SO EXCITED!!

Wherein I rant about something that is supposed to be perfect

2011-07-27T14:22:00.000-07:00

I know that it's probably very hot where you are right now. (Unless you live in the Southern hemisphere of our awesome planet, in which case it's winter for you.) And I understand that I live in what most people refer to as the ideal climate: almost never goes below 50, rarely goes above 90, rarely rains, never snows. It's objectively Paradise, I get it.

Only I don't see it that way. And for one very specific reason: I miss summer. I miss it with every fiber of my being. Sure it's technically summer; it is, after all, July. But it sure as hell doesn't feel like summer.

To me, summer means heat. It means getting to wear shorts and dresses and flip-flops for months at a time. It means hanging out on the patio until 11:00 PM in a tank top. It means going to the beach and taking a swim to beat the heat and actually finding it refreshing.

But here in San Diego (at least near the coast), I can't remember the last time I wore a sundress without a sweater. The last time I BBQ'ed, it was in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. I stuck my feet in the pool the other day and walked right over the hot tub and turned it on. The last time I was at the beach, I couldn't get close enough to the bonfire because I was FREEZING. I made chili the other week, for god's sake! CHILI! IN A CROCK POT! Which I left on all day while I was at work and the house wasn't even hot when I got home!

Mother nature, his is unacceptable. Please. For the love of this East Coaster who grew up frying eggs on sidewalks and rigging the A/C so that it would cool the whole house instead of just one room, PLEASE bless me with some heat! Just a few weeks of temps over 80 degrees, that's all I ask. I'll even take one week of 90-degree weather. I don't even need it to be that hot at the beach! I just want to swim in my pool without immediately jumping out because it's too cold.... is that too much to ask?

=( Summer, why have you forgotten me?

My foray into prescription drugs: UPDATE

2011-07-21T11:42:00.000-07:00

If I had written this post yesterday, it would have been riddled with phrases like "crazypants" and "not in control of my emotions" and "I hate hormones RAAWWRRR!!" But since I am writing this post today--which happens to be a good day, a day on which I do not feel crazy or out of control--it will contain phrases such as "emotional" and "mildly irrational" and "I strongly dislike hormones, ugh."

I started taking a new, low-dose birth control pill on Monday and it KICKED. MY. ASS. I was so tired at work on Tuesday and Wednesday that I actually drew the shades and tried to take a nap at my desk yesterday during lunch. (That was most definitely a first.) Caffeine didn't do anything but give me a nasty sugar crash, and so I felt like utter crap the entire day. Alternatively, in the late night hours after I took the first two pills, I laid awake in bed, wound up and unable to fall asleep, my heart pounding in my chest. It wouldn't have taken a genius to figure out that I should take the pills in the morning instead of at night, but of course Rad Boyfriend was the first one to make that suggestion.

Well, that's exactly what I did this morning and guess what: I feel fantastic. I have energy, I'm in a great mood, and I don't feel like I want to hit anyone over the head with a book or take a nap. And about that hitting thing..."irrational" isn't a strong enough word for how I felt yesterday. "Filled with rage and wrath" might work, but with a bit of "angst and torment" thrown in. There was anger, there were tears, and I may have flipped my boss off behind his back. May have. I don't recall. In any event, I was hating on hormones hardcore yesterday. Today I'm okay with them.

As for the Ativan, that's working out quite nicely. So far it's doing what it's supposed to--relax me--without any gnarly side effects. It's such a low dose that I can take it at work, but the drowsiness is work-prohibitive. So I think i'll be saving it for airplane rides and nights when I can't sleep.

On a completely unrelated side note, I have a funny story for you guys:

I went outlet shopping the other weekend with my friend Erin and bought a dress from Banana Republic on clearance. It's bright orange and has a collar and a belt and is really cute. Since the weather here in San Diego has been hovering around 73 degrees (with indoor office temperatures of about 65) I hadn't really had an opportunity to wear the dress comfortably. That is, until Tuesday. My boss was out of the office and thus the air conditioner wasn't set to CUT GLASS, so I wore the dress. I thought I looked all cute with my brown wedges, bracelet and new haircut; I even posted something on Facebook about how I was "working it!" Around noon, I jumped at the opportunity to drop a file off downtown for my boss because yay for showing off my outfit, right?

So as I was walking to my car, one of my sandals started to feel very loose. Just as I looked down to investigate, BAM. The strap broke. I lost my balance, dropped the file I was holding, and nearly fell into a fence while trying to keep the skirt part of my dress from flying up. All while the owner of said fence was on his front porch watering his flowers.

So much for working it, right? Such is my life...

I tried searching for the dress I bought so I could post a picture, but could not find it. I did, however, find these ensembles and now want to wear orange and turquoise to my friend Liz's wedding in August.

Le swoon!

My foray into prescription drugs

2011-07-11T17:24:00.000-07:00

Last we spoke, I was having some angst over hormonal birth control. I'm happy to report that the mood swings and bitchiness got much better as the month went on, but the anxiety did not. And most recently I had breakdown one day after work over my forgetfulness/penchant for not paying attention. This prompted me to make an appointment with my doctor to talk about why the eff I walk into the bedroom with water glasses when the water cooler is in Rad Boyfriend's office FIVE TIMES PER DAY. (Also why I leave the oven on, the garage door open, why I ask the same question 3 times, and why I continue to mess shit up at work.)

I had my doctor's appointment this morning. I explained my WTF-behavior and my doctor listened patiently. I told him that my said WTF-behavior has gotten to a point where it's affecting my everyday life and that it's time something be done about it. He asked me some questions and we chatted about what might be going on. We both agreed that these were more attention-related than forgetfulness-related, and he thus signed me up to speak to a psychiatrist to be tested for ADD.

AWESOME. I might have adult Attention Deficit Disorder. I'll let you know how that turns out.

But in the meantime, I done got myself a prescription for Ativan. Because the constant anxiety over effing up at work is starting to take its toll. I find myself checking and rechecking documents, second-guessing my work, asking my boss the same question three times to make sure I've covered everything. And it's starting to make me look incompetent. (Not that I think I am at all competent to run a law office, but I was faking it pretty well there for a while!)

So now I have some anti-anxiety meds that are to be taken strictly AS NEEDED! Both my doc and the pharmacist couldn't stress this enough. Those words, along with "habit-forming" and "pill-reliant" were thrown around several times this morning. I am to take them only when I feel very, extremely, super anxious. Umm... have you met me? I'm pretty much a walking ball of anxiety.

But alas. I must heed my doctor's advice. I know he's right, and I'm sure the pharmacist has seen her share of Ativan-poppers hounding her staff for refills that don't exist. I do not want to become one of those people. And so I've promised myself to only take them when I'm so stressed out that I can't think straight. Or when I fly. Because, really, why suffer in an economy class middle seat from California to New Jersey when you could drift off peacefully into a dream where your seat is in First Class and the flight attendants are all Alexander Skarsgard.....

Ahem. Pardon my digression. Stay tuned for the next Medication Update....

Easy Chicken Parmigiana

2011-06-27T11:24:00.000-07:00

You may think that making anything you have to cook twice would be complicated, and I can't blame you for that. I mean, just look up "Chicken parmigiana" on the interwebs; you'll immediately get 10 recipes that have 20 ingredients and take 90 minutes to make. Who has time for that?!

So here is my easy, quick and down-right delicious recipe for chicken parm. Rad Boyfriend called it the best chicken parm he'd ever eaten, including in fancy restaurants. Clearly he doesn't have an Italian grandmother, but I didn't mention that to him. Instead I said, "I know, isn't it really good?!" I'm so modest.

Step One:

Beat the meat. You heard me. Procure 4-6 large chicken breasts, wash them, trim the fat, and put them in a plastic bag or under plastic wrap. Then beat the hell out of them with a mallet. (It's fun, trust me.) I suggest doing this atop a wooden cutting board as opposed to a plastic one. Then cut the cutlets down to a more manageable size. Thin chicken is the key to a flavorful dish, so don't skimp on the beating!

Step Two:

Get a small bowl and three large plates. (I prefer paper plates, as I hate doing dishes.) Coat the bottom of the first plate with a mixture of flour, salt and pepper. In the bowl, beat two eggs with a bit of water; this is called an egg wash. In the second paper plate, mix together some seasoned breadcrumbs, chopped fresh parsley, and a generous amount of finely grated Parmesan cheese. DO NOT SKIP THE PARMESAN! This is the secret ingredient. Remember the title of the dish we're making!

Step Three:
Dip each chicken breast into the flour, then the egg wash, then the breadcrumb and Parmesan mixture. Set aside on the third plate.

Step Four:

Pour a generous amount of olive oil into a large frying pan. Heat until hot, then throw in about a tablespoon of butter. Trust me, this makes the chicken golden and crispy. Place the chicken in the pan and throw some salt and pepper on top. Cook for 3-4 minutes and repeat on other side. Remove from pan and set aside.

Here's where I reveal a dirty little secret about my favorite salty seasoning. I do love me some Lawry's, but this here holds a special place in my heart:

My family has been cooking with Vegeta since I was born, despite the fact that (GASP!) it's chock full of MSG. Yup, you heard me: I eat MSG. And since I've been eating it since I was a wee lass, it's probably shaved several years off my life. (Extra points if you know what's going on here.)

Step Five:

Moving on...

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Bring a big pot of water to boil for spaghetti. (Did I mention we're eating pasta with this meal? We're eating pasta.)
Chop some fresh basil.
Open a jar of tomato sauce. (Making your own is not that hard, but the goal here is quick and easy. My favorite jarred sauce is Trader Joe's Tomato Basil.)
Either in a bowl or right in the jar, mix the fresh basil into the sauce. Trust me, basil makes the dish so much more flavorful.

Step Six:
Pour enough tomato sauce to coat the bottom of a glass baking dish, up to 1/2 inch of sauce. Leave enough sauce for pasta. Put one (and ONLY one) layer of chicken on top of the sauce. Cut big, thick slices of fresh mozzarella and lay them on top of the chicken.

Step Seven:
Put the dish in the oven on 350 for 15 minutes, or until the cheese is melty and the sauce is bubbling. Remove and serve over spaghetti.

Suggestions for side dishes: garlic bread and salad.

Mangia!

Easy Chicken Parmigiana Recipe
Prep time: 15 minutes
Cook time: 30 minutes
Servings 4
4-6 chicken breasts
2 eggs
2 tbsp. water
3/4 cup flour
3/4 cup seasoned breadcrumbs
1/4 grated Parmesan cheese (plus extra for topping)
2 sprigs fresh parsley
6 leaves fresh basil
1 jar tomato sauce (extra if you like lots of sauce on your pasta)
4-6 slices of fresh mozzarella cheese
salt and pepper
Olive oil for frying
1 tbsp butter
1 lb spaghetti (or less, depending on how much pasta you want)

Preheat oven to 350.
Wash the chicken breasts and trim the fat.
Place 2 at a time in a plastic bag or under plastic wrap. Beat with kitchen mallet until thin, or each breast is about double in width/length. Cut to desired size.
Place the flour in flat plate, mix with salt and pepper. Beat eggs and water until frothy in bowl. Mix seasoned breadcrumbs, fresh parsley and Parmesan cheese together in separate plate.
Dip chicken breasts first in flour, then egg, then breadcrumb/Parmesan cheese mixture. Set aside.
Bring a large pot of water to boil for spaghetti.
Coat frying pan with generous amount of olive oil and heat. Once hot, add butter.
Fry chicken 3-4 minutes on one side, sprinkle with salt and pepper before turning over. Repeat on other side.
Chop the basil. Either in a bowl or in the jar, mix the basil into the sauce.
Coat 11x17 (or smaller, whatever fits 6 large breasts) glass baking dish with 1/2 inch of tomato sauce. Leave extra sauce for pasta.
Place chicken on sauce.
Place one heaping slice of mozzarella cheese on each chicken breast.
Bake for 15 minutes at 350 or until cheese is melted and bubbly.
Cook spaghetti to desired consistency.
Remove chicken from oven and serve over spaghetti. Pour extra sauce and cheese on dish as desired.

Enjoy!

The last birthday of my 20's and some TMI (WARNING! GIRL STUFF WITHIN!)

2011-06-23T17:29:00.000-07:00

[Most of this post was written last week, before my birthday. I've since edited it.]

It was my birthday on Sunday--the big 2-9. The last one I'll ever have before turning thirty. And for once, I ~~didn't have an~~ had only a minor anxiety attack over getting a year older. In fact, I handled this birthday a lot better than I've handled almost every other birthday in my twenties.Go figure!

As I sat down to write this post, I tried to figure out why I was so much less stressed about this June 19th. Is it because I'm finally at a place in my life where I feel comfortable with myself? Is it because I have such a rad boyfriend and awesome friends and supportive family and spent my birthday at the fair where games were played, competitions were won, fried food was eaten and babies were held? Yes. Yes to all of that.(Baby Scent might be my favorite smell in the world, by the way.)

But also (and this is the TMI part, you've been warned!) I think it has something to do with the fact that I recently stopped taking a certain mediation. A medication that is supposed to prevent a thing called BABIES. No, I'm not with child, and no I'm not "trying." (Despite that thing I said about Baby Scent. Mmm babies...) I stopped taking anti-baby pills because they were making me crazy. Literally. The following is a first-hand account of how birth control has messed with my head so badly that the thought of being back on it scares the shit out of me.

Last year I started seeing an awesome doctor who discussed many different birth control options with me. I decided to try one called Seasonique, the one that's supposed to allow Mother Nature to come a callin' only 4 times per year, because hey... who likes periods EVERY month? But in order to effectuate that process, the pills release an incredibly high dose of hormones into your system--a level I apparently could not handle. They made me absolutely crazy. And I don't just mean emotional, I mean irrational and out of control. I would get angry at friends who didn't tag me Facebook photos. I left stores because I couldn't handle interacting with people or because I got fed up with perky saleswomen following me around and asking if I needed help. I once found myself driving home from work, stopped at a stop sign, tears streaming down my face and pounding my fists against the steering wheel because a pedestrian was crossing the street and I had to wait. See? CRAZY!!

The night of that incident with the pedestrian, I left my doctor the first of two voicemails telling her that I was feeling unbelievably depressed and out of control and that I wanted off the pills NOW. I asked her to please write me a prescription for the birth control I'd taken in my early twenties, a low dose of the tried and true Ortho Tri Cyclen. I started taking Ortho the following month and everything went back to normal. The mood swings stopped, the anger faded, and I was me again. I still had pretty consistent changes in mood and got overly emotional and sensitive, but it was ten times better than the hell I'd gone through with Seasonique.

Fast forward to about a year later. Time to see my awesome doctor again for my yearly check-up. I'd gotten fed up with remembering to take the pill every day and wanted to try something I didn't have to worry about. I had heard rave reviews about the Nuva Ring from several friends and thought, hey. Why not? I'll try that. And so I did. My doctor gave me two free samples on the spot.

So I tried the ring and everything was going great. I was keeping a careful eye on my moods and sleeping habits, watching out for the wild mood swings and deep depression I'd had while on Seasonique. No symptoms like last time. I was doing great... at least I thought I was.

One day, about a 6 weeks after I'd started the Ring, I was in a pretty foul mood. It was the second or third day I'd felt this way, but I attributed it to PMS or just a bad week at work. Then my roommate asked me how the Ring was working out. Was I feeling ok? Was I experiencing the same symptoms as last time? Was it making me crazy? I started to answer that I was fine, that I wasn't feeling anything NEARLY as awful as I'd felt on Seasonique. But then I stopped and thought for a few minutes. Why was she asking me this question with such a concerned look on her face? Had I changed? I was feeling awfully depressed. I hadn't been in a very good mood for over a week. I was hungry ALL the time and gaining weight. I'd been going to bed at 9:30 most nights. Something was definitely not right.

After some internet research on the side effects of the Ring, I decided to stop using it. The depression, along with some other gross side effects I won't go into, outweighed the convenience factor for me. So I finished out the month and stopped taking birth control completely. I was so paranoid about what the hormones were doing to me that I didn't even want to go back on the Ortho.

That was in April. It's now almost July and I feel absolutely fantastic. Better, in fact, than I've felt in years. No hormones, no pills, and no crazy. I can't remember the last time I overreacted to a situation or felt too depressed to get out of bed. And I just moved in with my boyfriend! You'd think that if something was truly not right with my brain parts, moving in together would have triggered some sort of wild reaction. But nope! I've had one panic attack over a couch, and nothing since.*

*This last paragraph and everything before it was written last week. It was before I'd started taking a new birth control called Tri-Sprintec, a generic version of Ortho-Tri-Cyclen. I took the first pill on Sunday night and woke up the next morning and almost vomited. The nausea was so bad I actually skipped work. I spent most of the morning in bed feeling like I was going to die, while Rad Boyfriend hugged me and brought me water and looked at me with his big eyes and said, "I hate that the pill is doing this to you."

I hate it, too. I've only been on it for 4 days and I'm already starting to feel the side effects. Or at least I've got it in my head that I'm feeling side effects. Why else would I slam doors and cry for no reason? Why else is my first reaction to an invitation to an event sheer anxiety?

Here's another good question: Why did I start taking oral contraception again? If all I do all day is think about how much I resent being on it, if it makes me so damn miserable, why do I do it to myself?

Because I'm now living with my boyfriend and it's the responsible thing to do. That's all I got. It's the adult thing to take a pill to make sex more convenient despite the fact that it's killing me inside.

Does that make ANY sort of sense to you?

It sure doesn't to me. Which is why I made a deal with myself this time. First, I'm waiting on a call back from my doctor to discuss a low-dose version of the stuff I'm on now. Secondly, despite the outcome of that phone call, I'm giving this ~~jagged~~ wretched little pill exactly one month. And at the end of that month, I'm going to sit down and take a good, hard look at Danielle and her behavior for the past 28 days.That will determine whether or not I continue on any kind of hormonal birth control. If I don't feel like "me," if I'm crying because I burnt dinner or because Ikea refuses to restock the pillow I want, I'm done. No one should have to deal with not being in control of their emotions as a side effect of birth control. No one should be depressed and anxious and feel uncomfortable all the time in exchange for a spontaneous sex life.There are other options. And maybe it's time for me to explore them more thoroughly than a WebMD page.

End TMI.

Here's a picture of a wiener dog to make you smile after this horribly depressing post:

So I moved again

2011-06-06T09:43:00.000-07:00

This time, in with the Rad Boyfriend. We are officially living in sin! Woohoo!

To say that life has been hectic lately is an understatement. Work has been absolutely crazy, I've been taking on some other side projects, and moving is..... oh how can I describe moving.... painful (both physically and mentally), time-consuming, and extremely stressful. Do you know that I had a panic attack over a couch two weeks ago? A COUCH! I managed to get myself worked up over an inanimate piece of furniture to the point where I had to please ask Rad Boyfriend to stop talking about the couch. ME. Asking my boyfriend to stop talking about interior design!

You see, all we'd been doing for 10 days was talk about the couch. It wasn't choosing a couch that make me batty; that part was actually the easiest decision we made: we walked into Ikea and liked the very first one we sat on. Done and DONE. But then came choosing the fabric, aka the pre-made slipcovers that come in 7 different colors and textures and sizes. The fabric that makes you want to pull your hair out when you realize the kind you want is only available for the sofa and not for the chaise you want. THAT FABRIC.

Internet, you should know something: IKEA LIES. Just because their website says they have something in their store does not make it true. No Ikea from San Diego to Tempe, Arizona has the particular cover for the chaise we wanted. Ikea.com said they had it in Costa Mesa, but they didn't. Then we called a friend who lives in Tucson, who just happened to be driving to Tempe for the weekend, to ask him if he could check the Ikea out there, because the website said they they had it. He called us from the store all, "They have it! Want me to buy it?" To which we responded, "Hell to the yes! We'll pay anything if you can ship it to us!" Immediately following this phone call, and armed with the knowledge that we could get the sofa AND the chaise we wanted in the FABRIC we wanted, we went to our local Ikea. We ordered the sofa, the sofa cover, and the chaise from the helpful salesperson up on the display floor. We went down to the "pick up your stuff here" area, and after Rad Boyfriend's head nearly exploded after a difficult conversation with another salesperson, we got everything we needed. SUCCESS!

But then.... then. Then we got a phone call from our friend in Tempe who was still at Ikea. He informed us that they did not in fact have the chaise cover we wanted. Our reactions went something like this:

RAGE FACE!!!!!

Are f*cking kidding me?

WHAT THE F*CK?

WHY IS IKEA SO G-DAMNED DIFFICULT?!

Silence.

..............

Assurance that this fabric is a new item and Ikea will be getting a new shipment shortly.

Acceptance.

So. Now we have a couch in the upholstery we wanted, and a naked chaise lounge attachment thing in a box waiting for its cover. Not that it matters, as we still have a lot of decorating and purchasing to do, and a half-couch is not the biggest of our concerns. What matters is that we have someplace to sit and watch TV.

So that's the story of the couch that gave me a panic attack. Now let's talk about how the blinds in our east-facing bedroom don't work, causing the sun to shine in at 5:30 every morning (and possibly allowing some neighbors to see me in my birthday suit, not that I really care).

But I digress. I love our new apartment. I love my walk-in closet, I love the pool and the hot tub and the gated parking and the price of our rent. I'm sure we'll eventually get all the bugs worked, and I'm sure it'll feel more like a home with every personal touch we add.

And you know what I love most about my home? Who I share it with. All the stress and back pain I went through these past few weeks? TOTALLY. WORTH IT =)

The Monday shuffle (and a fantastic website I just discovered)

2011-04-25T13:30:00.000-07:00

There really should be a song with that title. That [the] Mamas and the Papas song doesn't really do justice to how dull and pedantic Mondays are. Are everyone else's Mondays filled with such hate and general dragging of the feet? Are there people out there who actually enjoy their Mondays? If so, can I do what they do?

My usual Monday:

Wake up cranky and in a bad mood. Spill my coffee, forget my breakfast at home, yell at someone who hasn't realized the light has turned green. Maybe chuckle at a morning radio show bit.
Get to work at 8:30, spend a half hour ignoring my Outlook inbox in lieu of reddit, Pinterest (more on this fabulous site later) and Facebook.
Have a meeting wherein we follow up on everything we did last week, dwell on all the things we didn't do, then make promises about all the things we'll do this week.
Sluggishly see to things requiring my immediate attention.
Go home for lunch and debate going back to work.
Begrudgingly go back to work, spend another half hour on the internet, then sign off of everything that will distract me. Actually get some work done.
Watch the clock count down to 5:00. Decide my workday is done, but decline to sit in traffic only to make myself angrier. Spend 30 minutes filing, organizing my desk, and making up for all that time I spent on the internet earlier in the day.
Sit in traffic, despite my best efforts to avoid it.
Go grocery or Target shopping.
Go home, take pants off. If it's after 7:00, I immediately make myself a cocktail while I cook dinner. If it's before 7:00, I take my pants off and lay in bed until it's time for a cocktail.

The remainder of my recent evenings have tended to involve old episodes of Twin Peaks (holy creepiness, David Lynch... your mind is a maze full of bonkers) and the aforementioned website Pinterest.

About Pinterest: If you love design and fashion and cooking and DIY projects and furniture and anything remotely creative, you will absolutely love this website. It's a site where members submit links of design ideas, photos, artwork, Etsy products, cooking blogs, everything creative on the internet. Then other members can "pin" those ideas to their own "boards." It's kind of like a virtual bulletin board or clipboard. Just to give you a taste of what it's about, here is a link to my Fashion board and one to my Home style board.

Screenshot of my Fashion board

I use Pinterest as a way to keep track of recipes I want to try, books I want to read, and ideas for home design and fashion by "pinning" links and photos of these things to my boards. You can create as many boards as you want for anything you find on the site: artwork, photography, inspirational quotations, wedding ideas, etc. I implore any fellow design-aholics to check this site out!

Alright, gang. The time is now 1:26 on Monday afternoon. I've spent a good portion of my lunch hour writing this blog post, and thus I must eat my lunch at my desk instead of going home and browsing Pinterest. Le sigh.

Happy Monday shuffle, y'all!

The most amazing stuffed mushrooms ever

2011-03-23T13:37:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite cooking activities is to perfect a recipe that I've tried making several times, but can't get quite right. [See: every attempt at garlic bread I've ever made, ever.]

My most recent project was stuffed mushrooms. I tried a recipe from one of my favorite cooking blogs and it came out just.... blah. The flavor was off, it tasted bland, and I wasn't impressed. I tried it again over Christmas, this time with my own variations, and holy wow... those suckers were freaking fantastic! I made them again for a family get-together at home of Rad Boyfriend's Dad and they were ever better than last time. I impressed even myself, which is pretty difficult to do. Here's the recipe, if anyone is interested in the most fantastic stuffed mushrooms ever. Note: it looks long and complicated, but it's not. I just like giving detailed directions =)

Goat Cheese and Bacon Stuffed Mushrooms

24 oz. (3 packages) white mushrooms

10 oz. goat cheese

2-3 oz.cream cheese
(or 12 oz. goat cheese and no cream cheese)

2-3 oz. Parmesan cheese, plus extra for topping

1 egg

3/4 lb. bacon, diced

2 large shallots, finely diced

3 cloves of garlic, finely minced or zested

3 tbsp. of finely chopped fresh parsley

olive oil to grease the baking sheets

Preheat the oven to 350. Remove the egg and all of the cheeses from the fridge and let sit for 20-30 minutes.
Rinse the mushrooms and pat them dry. Remove the stems and set them aside. Carve out the inside of the mushrooms with a butter knife to make room for the stuffing. Discard the insides. Finely chop about 2/3 of the mushrooms stems and set aside. Discard the rest.
Stack 3 slices of bacon at a time and trim the fat. Cut the bacon into small pieces. Repeat until all of the bacon is chopped. Set aside.
Finely dice the shallots and set aside.
Cook the bacon in an un-greased frying pan until it just starts to turn brown. Don't let it get too crispy, as the texture won't meld with the rest of the stuffing.
Remove the bacon from the frying pan using a slotted spoon, leaving the grease in the pan.
Throw the shallots in the bacon grease and cook on medium-high for about 3 minutes, or until they start to turn clear. Add the chopped mushroom stems and stir until the mushrooms start to soften and turn brown.
Zest 3 gloves of garlic into the frying pan and stir for 1-2 minutes, until the garlic is soft. (You can also finely dice the garlic instead of zesting it.)
Empty the entire contents of the frying pan into a medium-sized bowl, grease and all. Stir in the softened goat cheese, cream cheese, Parmesan cheese, and egg. Add the bacon and stir. *If the mixture is too salty for your taste, add some more goat cheese or cream cheese to cut the salt.
Add the parsley at the very end and stir.
Generously fill each mushroom top with a tablespoon.*There will likely be some leftover stuffing. The amount left over will depend on how deep you carve out the mushrooms. You can fill as many mushrooms as you have with the leftover stuffing, or fill one giant Portobello mushroom with the remainder.
Grease 2 baking sheets with olive oil.
Place the stuffed mushrooms on the greased baking sheets and generously sprinkle Parmesan cheese on top.
Bake at 350 degrees for about 20-30 minutes, or until the desired consistency of the Parmesan cheese topping is reached. Some people like it to be crispy, other like it melty. For crispy tops, turn the broiler on for 2-3 minutes or until the tops are brown.
*Another way to achieve a little crispiness is to add panko breadcrumbs to the stuffing mixture. I would recommend about 1/2 cup. Follow the rest of the recipe as written, then make sure to turn the broiler on for 2-3 minutes for a crispy top.

Enjoy!

Things things things!

2011-03-21T14:59:00.000-07:00

Why hello there, Internet! It's been a while, hasn't it?

There are THINGS! going on over here in The City of Awesome, THINGS! that shouldn't be discussed in such a public forum, other THINGS! that are still too premature to even be considered THINGS! No, I'm not with child, and no, I'm not getting married. These are THINGS! that have to do with work and family, aka stuff that shouldn't be broadcast on the internet. I know, I know, BORING. But such is my life =)

What I can discuss is the fact that the Rad Boyfriend and I are moving in together in June! We decided to do this a long time ago, but now that it's almost April (holy crap, where did the time go?) and we'll start to look for apartments soon, I figured it was a good time to let the cat out of the bag.* What does this mean for our relationship? Having all of our contact lens cases and toothbrushes in one place. Also, lots and lots of home cooked meals. You should see Rad Boyfriend in an apron... ;-)

I will eventually explain these other THINGS! to which I allude, but not yet. Certain other, smaller things must happen before these more important THINGS! can be discussed. And that's all I have to say about that.

In the meantime, be well! Be healthy! Love each other, and most importantly, be happy!

*Speaking of cats, we may or may not be adopting one. I really, really want a kitteh, and I know RB does, too. But right now, our priority is finding a livable dwelling out of which he can work and I will get plenty of sunlight. If that place happens to allow cats, fantastic! If not, we'll just have to wait until the next place. And mark my words, that next place will absolutely, positively allow these little guys.

Vacation: putting some Spring in your Palm

2011-02-23T09:30:00.000-08:00

Let's hear it for vacation hair! And vacation appetite! And vacation.... well.... let me stop there.

Needless to say, Palm Springs was a blast. The Rad Boyfriend and I had a really really REALLY good time over the long weekend. We ate, we swam, we slept in, and we ate. Did I mention the food? Because we ate. A lot. Mother Nature must have heard my plea because it only rained on Saturday night.The rest of the time, it looked like this:

The amount of snow on the mountains behind our hotel was breathtaking.

Living Desert. Totally worth it.

There are two words that describe this hotel: cool and hipster.

What road trip is complete without a hilarious sign?

And now I must get back to the real world.... the one that doesn't involve room service and margaritas at 11 o'clock in the morning. A world where fine dining is reserved for special occasions and sitting poolside is not an inalienable right. Sigh. I would've made a really good rich lady.

Dear Mother Nature

2011-02-16T12:06:00.000-08:00

Please stop. I know what you're doing and it's working. You're messing with the weather on the one weekend the boyfriend and I will be going away together, alone, and not to attend a wedding/family function/graduation/work-related gala. And it's really bumming me out.

You see, Rad Boyfriend and I have never taken a trip together that didn't involve some prior obligation. Sure we've traveled together and stayed in hotels together.... there was the time we went to Vegas for a wedding (and had a super fun awesome time); there was the time we went to Florida together to visit my dad and attend a wedding (also super fun); then there was the time we spent together with my family in New York over Christmas, when we met up with friends and drove 4 hours down to Washington D.C. to celebrate the new year and surprise a friend for his birthday (again, a lot of fun). But do you see a recurring theme here, Mother Nature? None of that was for us.

We had plans with some friends to go to Vegas this coming weekend. We were super stoked about it, as we had such a fantastic time with them last year. But when said friends canceled (for very legitimate reasons) we jumped at the opportunity to take a trip together, alone, just the two of us. To a hotel in Palm Springs we'd been meaning to go to since last year. Yay for romantic getaways!

Except that you, Mother Nature, are making it not as awesome as it should be. Because while the weather in Palm Springs has been sunny and between 70-81 degrees for 10 out of the last 15 days, you've chosen this coming weekend, the one weekend we'll be in Palm Springs, for it to rain. And not only will it rain, but temperatures will be in the 60's. There go our plans of shorts and sundresses, of swimming and laying out in the sun, of partaking in the amenities of a hotel that has "Swim Club" in its name.

Will this stop us from having a good time? Absolutely not. Rad Boyfriend and I are TOTALLY still stoked to be going away. We're even dropping some extra cash on a room with a fireplace on the patio, which, as it turns out, was great forethought on our part.

Very much looking forward to this

But still. Rain? Really? In the DESERT? Come on, Mama Natty. Throw a sister a bone here. Change your mind about the precipitation. Let me fully enjoy the one vacation RB and I will spend alone this year. Let us swim in a warm pool and ~~sip Cokes~~ shoot tequila while we lounge in hammocks. (Yes, they have poolside hammocks. HAMMOCKS!) I promise not to complain about any rain and/or earthquakes we might get this summer.* Please?

Eternally and forever your faithful peon,

Danielle

*I promise not to complain too much. I'd still like a warm summer =)

When life hands you lemons, PART 2

2011-02-15T16:41:00.000-08:00

So. Valentine's Day plans were kaput. We lamented over the inconsideration of the restaurant for about three minutes, then started thinking about alternative plans. We decided on getting take-out from a local and delicious Thai restaurant and watching a movie at home.

Which, as it turns out, will now be our Valentine's Day tradition from here on out.

The day before, upon learning that our extravagant plans had changed, I went to Target and picked up some things to make the evening more special. I bought a heart shaped plate on which I planned to put cupcakes from our favorite bakery, some candles, and a jumbo package of heart-shaped Reese' peanut butter cups, RB's favorite.

I came over to Rad Boyfriend's apartment early with a plan: get him out of the house to pick up the food and some champagne while I set up my surprise. I set the table with candles and napkins that I'd cut into hearts. I put four irresistible-looking cupcakes on the heart plate and placed it on the coffee table with candles all around it. And then I arranged the 30 individually wrapped peanut butter cups on his kitchen counter to spell out "I <3 YOU" with candles all around it.

As I write this, I can't help but think what a dork I am. What guy appreciates romantic stuff like that? Isn't that stuff better saved on the ladies? What girlfriend goes through all that trouble for a dude? Well Internets, I DO. And let's just say that it was very VERY much appreciated.

Best Valentine's Day ever =)

When life hands you lemons, PART 1

2011-02-15T11:38:00.000-08:00

Several weeks ago (like back in January) I made reservations at a romantic Italian restaurant for Valentine's Day. I'd heard good things about this place, and one look at the menu told me we wouldn't be disappointed. It looked romantic, it was decently priced, and the Rad Boyfriend and I had been jonesing for some authentic Italian cuisine since before the holidays. In fact, we'd been jonsing for this particular restaurant's Italian food for quite some time; the only thing that had stopped us from trying it earlier was the fact that they don't take reservations. And if I'm gonna get all dressed up to have a nice dinner, you better believe I'm making reservations!

But, ever the optimist, I called them anyway to see if they were making exceptions to their no-res rule for Valentine's Day--and they were! Hooray! Delicious Italian food! Plans made, we began discussing what we'd order, if we should bring our own wine and pay the corking fee, what we would do afterwards, etc. RB must have mentioned how much he was looking forward to finally trying this place at least a dozen times since I made the reservation. We were stoked!

On Sunday morning (as in The Day Before Valentine's Day), as we leisurely sipped our coffee and talked about how much we were looking forward to this week, I received a call from a strange phone number. Never one to answer calls from unfamiliar numbers, I let it go to voicemail. Upon checking it several minutes later, this is what I heard:

"Hi Danielle, this is Jenna calling from --- ------ confirming your reservation for tomorrow night at 7:30. I also wanted to make sure that you knew about our 5-course prix fixe menu that we're serving for Valentine's Day. It's $70 a person and......"

I stopped listening at that point. She could have told me it came with a basket of kittens to keep us company during dinner and I wouldn't have cared. Why? BECAUSE NO, I WAS NOT AWARE OF THE PRIX FIXE MENU. There was no mention of it on their website, nor did anyone tell me about it when I made the reservation. No way were be about to drop $200 on dinner just because it happened to be February 14th.

I was pissed. Not so much about not having dinner plans, but about someone informing me that I was expected to spend at least $140 the following night whether I liked it or not. There is nothing I hate more than feeling like I'm being taken advantage of. RB and I talked it over, and it was sort of a no-brainer: we canceled the reservation. And in an awesome twist of fate, it turns out it was the best thing that could have happened to us.

[Stay tuned for PART 2 later today]

A three-hour tour

2011-02-10T13:14:00.000-08:00

Guess what I did over the weekend?

I got on a boat...

And went dolphin/whale watching!!

Needless to say, it was really really cool.

We saw literally HUNDREDS of dolphins out in the open Pacific, just off the coast of San Diego.

I will not make a joke about whale's vagina....

On eating healthy and doing yoga

2011-02-04T12:25:00.000-08:00

The other night, I put on a pair of jeans that I hadn't worn in a while, ~~mostly~~ all because they're my tightest pair. And man was I in for a pleasant surprise: they were actually LOOSE on me! Internets, that hasn't happened since my second year of law school, otherwise known as the Dark Period. REJOICE!

How did I do it, you ask? What's that, you want to hear another story about how a complete stranger shed a few pounds and now feels ten times healthier? Why I'm glad you asked....

First of all, you should know that the goal wasn't to lose a bunch of weight and look like a waif. I'm a curvy gal and I like it that way; the goal was for my clothes to fit a little better in the tummy and thigh area. The second thing you should know is that I really didn't try very hard. I just changed a few things about my lifestyle and diet, and viola... several pounds were shed within 10 days. (I don't own a scale, so I can't tell you how many.)

The first thing I did was get back into yoga. It may seem like an easy workout, but it's not. The amount of strength it takes to keep certain poses, the amount of energy you exert while stretching and bending is actually astounding. Add some extra crunches and leg lifts to the workout, and trust me.... it's an exhausting hour. Try it if you don't believe me!

The main thing I did was change my diet. My biggest problem with food is that I only cook for myself*, and so I only buy things I can keep in the freezer or cupboard. I cook fresh, from-scratch meals so rarely lately that when I do, it's usually something really delicious and really bad for you. Like this:

Baked ziti alla vodka sauce. Oh. Em. Gee.

My happy medium has been to eat smaller, healthier meals throughout the day instead of a giant lunch and big dinner. I usually have 2 Nutrigrain waffles on my way out the door in the morning, which never fills me up. I sometimes make myself a bowl of oatmeal at work around 10 or 11, which fills me up until about 1 or 2. Instead of going out for lunch, I've been making myself turkey and goat cheese sandwiches on high-fiber bread with a few dollops of low-fat salad dressing.

I use this one. It tastes sooo good with turkey!

I've always had that 4:00pm snack time craving, but instead of chips or candy, I have yogurt. Target carries a brand of food called Archer Farms, and their low-fat yogurt is TO DIE FOR. It's thick and creamy and comes in flavors like strawberry cheesecake, honey almond, and cherry pomegranate. (Note: most non-fat yogurt has aspartame in it instead of sugar, which is really bad for you. My advice? Buy low-fat. It's the difference between a few grams of fat and possibly getting cancer.)

A healthy dinner is hit or miss for me, which is why I've been trying extra hard to eat healthy during the day. If I'm making food for just myself, I usually default to things like Trader Joe's frozen falafel with Tzaziki sauce, risotto with mushrooms, soup, simple pasta dishes, bean and rice burritos, salads, etc. If I'm cooking for me and the Rad Boyfriend, I usually let him pick the dish... and it's never tofu and broccoli.

As for snacks.... well... I won't lie. This is the one area where I let myself eat whatever I want. I do, however, have a strict snack policy: only one sweet thing and one really-bad-for-you salty thing allowed in the house at one time. Usually it's brownies and potato chips (hey, I'm only human) but I try hard to stop at one brownie or one handful of chips. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. I also keep lots of tea and ginger ale in the house when I really need to satisfy a sweet craving. Popsicles and pudding are also great alternatives to brownies and cake.

You'll notice that there isn't much dairy in my diet. That's mostly because I'm lactose intolerant, but also because dairy generally has a lot of fat. Have you ever looked at the nutritional facts for Brie cheese or a frozen pizza? It makes me wonder how the French stay so healthy.

So there you have it. Yoga once or twice a week plus oatmeal and high-fiber meals many times per day, minus greasy pizza. I'll let you know if this regime still works when I'm 35, but so far, so good!

*Rad boyfriend and I don't live together. Not yet, anyway.... ;-) Stay tuned for further news in that department.

Thankful

2011-02-03T11:52:00.000-08:00

For the truly awesome man in my life. It's not our anniversary or Valentine's Day or the half-anniversary of the second time we kissed, it's just Thursday. And I love him.

Even when he wears his step-mom's 1984 sunglasses

Shout-out Slash Admonition to Ginger's parents

2011-01-31T09:36:00.000-08:00

Last week I was walking from 711 back to my office and spotted a loose dog ahead of me on the sidewalk. At first I thought she was tied to a lamppost or bike rack, but quickly realized she didn't have a leash. She stopped when she saw me walking towards her, then picked up her pace and started walking in my direction rather quickly. That's when I noticed two things: 1) she had a pink collar, and 2) she appeared to be some sort of pit bull mix.... aka the ONLY breed of dog that I am somewhat, even a tiny bit afraid of.

Background: When it comes to dogs, I am THAT girl... the girl that walks up to strange dogs and pets them, the girl who doesn't cross the street when an angry dog barks from behind a fence, the one who's first on her feet to break up a dog fight. I strongly believe that if you don't show a dog fear, he won't be aggressive toward you. I am definitely not afraid of dogs....except for pit bulls. I know it's not fair to blame the breed, and that not all pit bulls are aggressive or mean, etc. It's just that I've seen too many stories about some thug gangster breeding his dog to fight, or how a little kid walking by an open gate got mauled, and all I'm saying is that it's never a Golden Retriever doing the mauling.

So. I was walking down the street and this dog in a pink collar started coming towards me. I didn't stop, I made sure to keep walking so that she would have to follow me if she wanted my attention. We got to the parking lot of an Italian restaurant where I first spotted her, and I asked a delivery man if he'd seen where she came from. He said no, and suggested I look at her collar for a phone number.

At this point, I wasn't afraid of the dog anymore. She was clearly very friendly, and when I bent down to read her collar, she let me without flinching. I saw that her name was Ginger and told her to sit, which she did. Then she started licking my hands and my face, which of course melted my heart. As I started calling the phone number on her tag, a guy sitting at a Starbucks across the street ran over and said he knew who the dog belonged to. He said that she's gotten out before and that this would be the third time he's had to bring her back. He said her owners work out of their home and that they leave their door open. Not a problem, he said, until someone opens the gate to their complex and Ginger gets out.

Ginger's owners, I have two things to say to you: 1) thank you for raising an awesome pit bull mix. Ginger seems like she's an obedient, well-tempered, sweet dog. You did a great job. And 2) CLOSE YOUR DAMN GATE!

I won't be mad if you hate me

2011-01-24T10:54:00.000-08:00

Because I'll be too busy walking to lunch from my office in short-sleeves and shopping at the farmer's market in my flip-flops.

(Just so you know I'm not completely cold-hearted, I do feel bad for all of y'all who are suffering through 4 degree weather right now. I remember it well. But I do not miss it.)

Taters and tenderloin and cranberry sauce, oh yum

2011-01-21T12:27:00.000-08:00

It's no secret that I love to cook. I'm always on the prowl for new and delicious recipes. It helps that my friend E just started a cooking blog, so stealing ideas from her has become exponentially easier. Not that she minds sharing... in fact she just forwarded me a recipe for some mouthwatering twice-baked potatoes that inspired me to write this post. (Thanks, E!)

Twice baked potatoes are a new concept to me. My mom was a health nut when I was younger (and still is) so we rarely ate anything as delicious as potatoes with sour cream and cheese. So as you can imagine, when I started cooking on my own, there was a whole new world of delicious and bad-for-you foods to try. Including this one. Which I think I might have to make this evening. Recipe can be found here. Both E and I suggest putting bacon in said taters. It will only make it more delicious and bad for you.

I recently took an interest in learning how to make pork tenderloin. I remember my mom making it when I was little and how delicious and juicy it was. So one night a few months ago I did it. And Internets, I dare say, it was AMAZING. Hands down the best meal I've ever prepared. I used Ree Drummond's recipe from her fabulous website, The Pioneer Woman and she absolutely nailed it. (If you read my blog regularly, you'll find that I use her recipes quite often.)

The cranberry sauce, however, was a spin on a Cranberry and Caramelized Onion recipe that I found on Oprah's website. I used it mostly as a template for my own creation (below).

As a side dish to that pork tenderloin, I made Pioneer Woman's smashed potatoes. But since I already talked at y'all about taters, I'll save those for another post =)

Happy Cooking!!

Twice Baked Potatoes: click here.
Pork Tenderloin: click here.
Smashed Potatoes: click here.
Oprah's Cranberry and Caramelized Onion Sauce: click here.

Danielle's Cranberry and Caramelized Onion Sauce:

Ingredients:

1 can jellied cranberry sauce

2 1/2 shallots finely chopped, or 1 white or yellow onion finely chopped

1 cup chicken broth

2 tablespoons butter

2 teaspoons honey, or as desired

white wine to taste (optional)

salt and pepper to taste

Directions:

In a medium-sized skillet, melt butter over medium-high heat. Add finely chopped shallots or onions and cook until they just start to get brown. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Add 1/2 of the chicken broth and a few splashes of wine (optional) for taste. Let simmer on low until liquid reduces by about half. Add cranberry sauce and stir until hot. Add remaining chicken broth and wine as desired. Simmer until desired consistency is reached. (Some people like their cranberry sauce thick, some like it thinner.) Add honey to taste. (Again, some people like it sweet, others like it more on the bitter side.)

Tip: the more chicken broth and/or wine you add, the more flavor it will have. If you want thick, flavorful sauce, use the full amount of broth and let the sauce simmer down until it becomes thick. If you like your sauce thinner, take it off the heat earlier. If you don't want a sauce that's too salty, add the remaining chicken broth to the cranberries in small increments until the desired taste is reached.

Enjoy!

Highlights of my week

2011-01-20T15:03:00.000-08:00

Considering the graveness of yesterday's post, here's a list of some awesome things that I've seen/eaten/witnessed this week... things that have made me smile =)

"Bob's Burgers" on FOX. Hilarious new animated series about an everyday family running a restaurant. It's on Hulu if you're into that sort of thing.
Marisco's German Taco Truck. I tried this place for the first time today, and let me tell you something about food trucks: don't let the fact that they are essentially kitchens on wheels discourage you from trying one. This particular taco truck is parked in an empty dirt lot next to a liquor store in a not-so-great part of town. Everyone on line in front of me ordered in Spanish. I didn't care.... the fish tacos were AMAZING. Someone on Yelp described the Gobernador taco like "hot sex on a Styrofoam meat tray." If you live in San Diego and have not yet tried this place, I implore you to go there the next time you're craving a shrimp taco or some ceviche. And if you're worried about price, don't be: I bought 4 tacos for me and the boyfriend and it came to $7.75.
Speaking of said boyfriend, he is definitely someone I'd like to add to this list. I've been going through a bit of a rough time lately and he has been nothing but supportive and caring and kind. I love you, robot.
KITTENS!!! That is all.

I'd also like to mention that updating this blog has been a wonderful source of comfort and stress relief for me. It forces me to take a break from my otherwise blah day and focus my energy on something completely fun and frivolous. Yay blogging!!

What have been the highlights of your week thus far? The bakery staying open just a little later than usual because you called to say that you were on your way to pick up your order? The mechanic calling to say that a part had to unexpectedly be replaced, but they wouldn't charge you for the labor? (This actually happened to me. There's a reason Advantec Auto Repair has such great reviews.) Someone surprising you with lunch or a snack? Do share =) I like good news.

On dealing with stress

2011-01-19T16:40:00.000-08:00

I've never been good at it.
I don't eat, and if I do, I eat cheesy poofs and brownies.

I don't sleep well at night when I'm stressed, which makes me tired, which makes me stress over being tired, which makes me take naps in the afternoon when I shouldn't, which means I can't fall asleep at night. It's a vicious cycle.

I know I should take walks and exercise, but instead I sleep and watch TV and troll the internet for pictures of kittens. (Therapists take note: kittens have a calming effect on many people and as such, trolling the internets for pictures of them should be on the approved "stress relievers" list.)

I get cranky and snap at people I shouldn't snap at, and then I feel bad, and then I stress about possibly having hurt someone's feelings. Again, a vicious cycle.

Stress is a cold-hearted witch to whom we all succumb at one point or another. Some handle it better than others, and to those who do, I ask you: what do you do? How do you deal with stress? What makes you feel better, what makes that knot in your tummy go away? TELL ME!!!

And now, a message from the internet kittehs:

Aaah that's better......

All hail the burrito

2011-01-18T12:34:00.000-08:00

For it is wondrous and magical and there is nothing in the world like it. Behold:

Burritos are pretty much my favorite fast food ever. It's everything I love about Mexican food in one convenient, human baby-sized package: beans (refried and/or black), rice (yellow), sour cream, salsa, lettuce, cheese (cheddar), guacamole (which I unfortunately can't eat), and the meat of your choosing all wrapped up in a giant tortilla. I don't even order mine with meat anymore because the veggie burrito from my local taco shop is so delicious on its own. And to top it all off, burritos around my hood are usually so big that I can save half for another meal! (I wasn't kidding about the human baby-size.)

I won't bore you with the origin of the burrito or the different styles, except to tell you about the California burrito. It's a San Diego specialty that includes chunks of carne asada meat, French fries, cheese, pico de gallo, guacamole and sour cream. I'll let you think about those ingredients all under one tortilla for a minute. Delicious or disgusting?

. . . . . . . . .

90% of San Diego would answer the former. I, however, think they're gross.

I shall now be exiled from San Diego and never again be permitted to eat another burrito.

Happy New Year, Interwebs!

2011-01-14T10:10:00.000-08:00

Me: Hi Internet, how are you?! It's been so long!

Internet: Oh. Hi. Yeah, it has been a long time.

Awkward pause.

Me: Soo... how've you been? What' new?

Internet: Fine. Nothing.

Awkward silence.

Me: Um, well... how was your holiday?

Internet: Fine.

Me: Internet, are you mad at me?

Internet: No.

Me: Are you sure? Because you seem mad.

Internet: Why would I be mad? I mean it's not like you just up and disappeared for six months without telling anyone.

Me: Internet, I'm sorry. I really am. It was a crazy time.

Internet: Whatever.

Me: I really am sorry. It's just that work got so crazy and summer kicked my butt with all the gatherings and friends, and then I went away on that business trip, and then work got crazy again... Then it just sort of got too late to get back in touch. I felt funny randomly popping back up again after so long, ya know? You know how that goes, don't you Internet?

Internet: Ugh. I guess. Whatever.

Me: Do you forgive me, Internet?

Internet: Fine. Whatever. I guess.

Awkward pause.

Internet: Hey.

Me: Hi.

Internet: It's good to have you back. I missed you.

Me: Aaw, thanks, Internet. It's good to be back. I missed you, too.

Truer words have never been spoken

2010-07-02T12:57:00.000-07:00

Scene: I'm telling Liz how I can't believe it's been almost a year since RB and I got together, how I was nervous we wouldn't last because we jumped into it so quickly. Her response:

When it's right, it's right.

Random Friday Ruminations

2010-07-02T09:33:00.000-07:00

Happy Friday Before a Holiday Weekend, everyone! I know it's been a while--I've been busy. Here's a list for you.

Being alone in the office is about the only time I get to listen to (good) hip hop and rap music. Today I am alone in the office. Connect the dots....
Living with a vegetarian and a manly man who eats a lot of meat has been a wonderful balance for my diet. Roommate T-money (the veggie) has opened my eyes to so many Trader Joe's items that I don't know what to do with myself. I might explode when she takes me to the Asian market.
Speaking of food, I love it. Love it love it love it. There is nothing I mind spending money on less than food. Take me to a good restaurant and I will be content for days, or as long as the leftovers last. That is all.
It's been a year since I moved to San Diego. How about that. =)
Have I ever mentioned that Rad Boyfriend is a carny? I can't remember and I'm too lazy to go through all the posts tagged "boyfriend." So I'll just tell you now (and possibly again) that RB is descended from carny blood. His grandfather worked the fairs all over the west coast and the southwest, and his dad has been doing it since RB was born. Which means RB spent every summer working the basketball hoops, the registers, and doing various other things for his dad's concessions. Is it weird that I find this super sexy? Maybe. But I don't care. I'm getting a t-shirt made that says "My boyfriend is a carny." Swear.
So the reason I've been MIA is that I had a bit of a scare last week that brought me to the emergency room. I'm fine, it was likely nothing, but I have a follow-up appointment with a specialist today. Fingers crossed! (And that's all I'm saying about it.) (No I'm not pregnant.)
The older I get, the more I think I want to live in a small town somewhere in North Carolina. I picture a house on 4 or 5 acres with a spectacular view and so secluded that you can walk out onto your porch naked in the morning to drink your coffee. Doesn't that sound awesome?
It's a three-day weekend, you guys!! What do you all have planned? My weekend is going to involve card games, beer, cleaning, decorating, a BBQ, THE WILD ANIMAL PARK!!!!!!!, and lots of sleep. What about you?

Cacti, Coors Lite, and a gun named Diana

2010-06-21T09:43:00.000-07:00

I spent my birthday weekend out in Landers, California. Which, if you Google Map, you will find is in the middle of the desert.

We shot some guns.

And watched some amazing sunsets.

And then my rugged bearded man from Maine put on hiking boots and played wiffleball while drinking a beer. Is there nothing this man can't do?!

Thank you to everyone who made the trip. I had an absolute BLAST with you guys =) And many thanks to Jenny for taking the above photos. More to follow!

28

2010-06-17T12:18:00.000-07:00

The postal code of the province of Madrid in Spain.
The number of dominoes in standard domino sets.
The age of Brandon Lee, Heath Ledger, and Big Pun when they died.
Approximately the number of grams in an ounce, and used as such in the illegal drug trade.
The standard number of days spent by celebrities in a rehabilitation facility.
How old I will be on Saturday.

I will be celebrating my two-years-away-from-30th birthday out in the desert, shooting guns and drinking beer and sleeping under the stars. And I couldn't have asked for a better way to spend it.

Happy birthday to me!

How I gained 5 pounds in one weekend

2010-06-07T15:57:00.000-07:00

This past weekend was like a cacophony of flavorful delights for my taste buds. Homemade beans with cilantro and pico de gallo turned into a quesadilla filled with cheese, sour cream and more pico de gallo. A food truck delivered onto my tongue the perfect-size cheeseburger on a fresh bun with all sorts of yummy toppings, along with Mexican Coke and poutine so tasty I almost when back for seconds. Following that gastronomic feast was chocolate ice cream from a bona fide ice cream shop! And then, just when I thought I couldn't eat anything else, our friends prepared for us a pile of nachos with just-grilled carne asada, re-fried beans, and homemade guacamole. Hit with the cooking bug, I decided to cook dinner on Sunday night: oven-baked panko-breaded chicken, and garlic mashed potatoes (skin included) with mushrooms cooked in butter and garlic.

My lunch today? Water and coffee. It's time to detox.

Digg asks, I answer

2010-06-04T15:04:00.000-07:00

I was trolling digg.com today and noticed a lot of articles with questions as the headline. I'll save you some time by answering those questions for you right now:

Are Alien Aircrafts in our Solar System? No.

Why Aren't Safety Airline Videos Better? Because for years, airlines had to maintain an air of professionalism. (Back in the day, as family of an airline employee, we had to dress up to fly standby. Truth!) Today, with airlines like Jet Blue and Southwest offering cheap tickets and choose-your-own seating arrangements, things have gotten more lax in many aspects. Including forcing passengers to listen to 20-year old safety videos that mostly promoted the class and comfort the airline rather than what to do in an actual emergency.

Should We Nuke the Broken Oil Well in the Gulf? Great question. I'll leave this one up to the scientists.

Why Do Cult Comedies Have Such Trouble in Theaters? Because you can't smoke pot in movie theaters.

Less Annoying: Ashton Kutcher or Katherine Heigl? Trick question--they're both equally heinous and vomit-inducing.

Happy weekend, everybody! w

My inner scaredy cat was right!

2010-06-02T11:11:00.000-07:00

THIS is why I avoid revolving doors at all costs!!

And just for good measure, here are some other things I'm irrationally paranoid about.

Moving (!)

2010-06-02T10:07:00.000-07:00

My house is in shambles. My belongings are in boxes. My cats are going nuts. That can only mean one thing: I'm moving!

I love my little craftsman house, and I heart my roommate Red to death. But oh am I ever glad to leave that place and move into a gated complex. No more sleeping under a window that faces the alley. No more d-bag neighbor. No more chopping vegetables on the stove because there's no counter space. ::Contented sigh::

Other things I'm looking forward to in the new place:

Cheaper rent.
Assigned parking.
On-site laundry.
Roommates who love to cook as much as I do.
KITCHEN SPACE TO COOK!
Keeping my bathroom stuff in the bathroom.
Having the bathroom right outside my door.
Second floor living and stucco walls to keep out the street noise.
Locked gates to keep out the crazies.
Living within walking distance of Rad Boyfriend, new roommate's Rad Boyfriend, our friends Jenaynay and Jayrayray, and a bunch of awesome bars and restaurants.

Tonight will be my first night in the new apartment and I am super duper excited =)

Rest In Peace, Arnold

2010-05-28T13:24:00.000-07:00

The 5 best things about dating nerds

2010-05-27T16:05:00.000-07:00

Not that Rad Boyfriend is a nerd. I'd call him more of a sexy geek than a nerd, but still. He falls into the category that this blog post describes. (And how.)

The 5 Best things about dating nerds

Proposed letter to our neighbor

2010-05-27T11:25:00.000-07:00

We're moving out this week, and we'd just like to thank you for being such a great neighbor!

Thank you for running your diesel cars at all hours of the morning and late evening! There's nothing like the sound of an engine turning over repeatedly to lull me to sleep.

Thank you for keeping your property neat and clean by mowing your lawn at 7:45am. We also enjoyed listening to your weed whacker, edger, trimmer, leaf blower and various other loud tools, as well as your yappy dogs. Especially on Sunday mornings.

Thank you for keeping the parking situation in check! We loved having someone leave notes on our cars reminding us not to park over the lines, lines that you took upon yourself to paint on the street without permission from the city. We also appreciate you knocking on our door at 8am on street sweeping days to remind us where not to park. How would we ever have remembered without you?!

Speaking of parking, thank you for parking your three oversize vehicles on the street instead of in your empty 3-car driveway. By taking precious street parking away from those of us without assigned spots, you really taught us the value of off-street parking. Growing up in New York City, it's a lesson I've always needed to learn.

Thank you for taking such an interest in our lawn! Specifically, thanks for trespassing on our property and illegally hooking up a hose to our house without telling us, causing us to freak the f*ck out when we saw water gushing down our alley and assuming a pipe had burst.We also really appreciated comments such as, "Your lawn looks like shit" and "It looks like every dog in the neighborhood has been pissing on your grass."

From the bottom of our hearts, thank you. You have been without question, truly, the most douchebag neighbor we have ever encountered. Keep up the good work, Batman. Gotham isn't safe without you.

Living together before marriage: yes or no?

2010-05-26T13:48:00.000-07:00

RB and I were invited to a get-together this weekend, but we had to decline because we'll both be moving. When the question of whether we're moving in together came up, and we answered no, we got an interesting reaction: "That's strange."

Hmm....

Now I'm not a traditionalist. I have no problem with living together before getting married or engaged. It makes sense for most people, both economically and practically. (I mean, don't you want to know your significant other's bathroom habits and kitchen-cleaning methods before moving in together? I know I do.) So there are no religious or family-related reasons behind our decision. And it's not that we don't think we'd get along in tight quarters. (We've taken several trips together and have spent many a weekend house-sitting together.) It's not that we have vastly different schedules or dislike each other's sleeping habits. (We probably spend 3-4 nights a week together and sleep just fine.) And it's not that we get on each other's nerves after spending a few days together. (See above.) It really comes down to two factors: 1) we're in no rush, and 2) RB has never lived alone before, which is something I strongly encourage. We already know we're in this relationship for the long haul and have the rest of our days to find that "perfect apartment" together. So "why rush it?" is our thought process.

So there you have it. Two adults who are in a healthy, committed relationship (and have been for 10 months), who love each other like crazy, and who are choosing to postpone living together. It was the right decision for us. Now what about you guys? Do you live with your significant others? How did you make the decision to/to not live together? Why do you think/not think it's a good idea? Share!

My final thoughts on LOST

2010-05-25T10:56:00.000-07:00

I've thought about it long and hard. I mulled it over and gave it a few days to sink in. And I've come to the conclusion that I did not like the LOST finale.

The entire 6th season of LOST was disappointing. It raised more questions than it answered. It felt drawn out and protracted, like the writers didn't know what else to give us. So instead of revisiting old storylines or cleverly tying up loose ends, they gave us 15 more episodes of "WTF" and "who is that" and "what does it all mean."(And, if I can get nitpicky here for a second, what the HELL did that Asian zen master and his temple have to do with anything? They spent how many episodes on that plot arc and it went absolutely nowhere. That's a fail, LOST.)

And then came the Finale. The episode where we thought we'd finally get some answers. At least that's what I thought. I really believed they would finally explain how the island can move in space and time, how it/Jacob drew people to it, the science behind it all. Why is Desmond so special? How did the island's power come to be on the island? How did Jack know he was supposed to go back and protect the island? Why was (real) Locke so emotionally attached to it? And those are just the broader, more fundamental questions I have about the show. What about smaller nuances, like the fake plane crash that Widmore orchestrated--how was that ever explained? Or how Jin survived the freighter explosion. Or what happened with Sawyer's daughter and Aaron.

I realize now that all that stuff isn't important. Yes it all happened, the Dharma Initiative and the time travel, it all happened and it was real. But the show was never about the island--it was about people. I see that now. It was about relationships and bonds and life experiences and how flaming darts and a crazy French woman can bring strangers closer together.... so close that they create a special place in their collective subconscious to return to with each other after death. It's moving and I acknowledge the significance. I just can't get over the fact that for 6 years, the writers made it seem like it was about the island. Smoke monsters and donkey wheels and polar bears, oh my! What does it all mean? It doesn't matter what it means. All that matters is that Jack and Kate and Claire love each other and will never forget about each other.

Not what I was expecting, LOST. Not what I was expecting at all. I'm disappointed =(

"I dont even like jelly. I get hives if I even look at jelly."

2010-05-20T12:08:00.000-07:00

I went into Albertson's the other day specifically for peanut butter and jelly. None of that crunchy organic unsalted nonsense they sell at Trader Joe's (my usual grocery store), but some real unhealthy, processed, bad-for-you Jif peanut butter. And cheap no-name raspberry jelly. So I'm walking down the PB&J aisle and a see a couple standing in front of the jelly.

"I really want this one, but the other one is cheaper," she says.
"So get the one you want," her boyfriend/fiance/husband says.
"But it's like a dollar fifty more expensive."

I'm now wondering why this sounds so familiar.

"So then get the cheaper one. They're the same flavor, right?"
"But the other one is seedless. I like seedless."
"So then get the seedless one."
"Hmm. Maybe if I get a different flavor...."

At this point I can see that the guy getting visibly irritated. He's rolling his eyes and leaning heavy on the cart, willing his girlfriend to make a decision.

"Can you just please choose a damn jelly so we can move on?" he says.
"But last time I bought jelly because it was on sale, it just sat in the cabinet."
"SO THEN BUY THE ONE YOU WANT!"

And then it hits me: holy shit, I'm witnessing a real life jelly fight!

Highlight of my day by FAR!

They could make an infinate number of these

2010-05-18T12:38:00.001-07:00

Maybe it was the sake talking... Wait, nope, he's just that awesome

2010-05-18T10:25:00.001-07:00

Scene: Rad Boyfriend and I are having dinner at our favorite sushi restaurant.

RB: You know, I was thinking. Your birthday is coming up.
Me: It is.
RB: And you just lost your phone.
Me: I did.
RB: And you're not exactly in a financial position to be buying a new one.
Me: ...yeah...
RB: And this whole you-not-having-a-phone business is really inconvenient for me.
Me: Haha oh is it?
RB: It is. So I was thinking.... what if I get you a new iPhone as an early birthday present?
Me: No way. Are you serious?

A few minutes of "no way" and "you deserve it" and "are you sure" and "of course I'm sure, baby" ensue before I get up in the middle of restaurant, walk around to his side of the table, and hug him and kiss him and tell him how rad he is.

This is maddening

2010-05-17T13:00:00.000-07:00

I hate Apple. I hate their sales tactics and user policies and everything they stand for. Which is why I want to give up my iPhone and get a Blackberry. At least that's what I had planned on doing when my contract with AT&T is up in December. Only now I can't because Apple is making it impossible for me to get anything other than another stupid iPhone.

I left my iPhone in a cab yesterday. Yes, I know, typical Danielle move. I know it, I've come to terms with it, and moved past the "here we go again with NOT PAYING ATTENTION and LOSING SHIT" phase onto the "what is the best, cheapest way to handle this situation" phase.

First of all, I'd like to point out that neither AT&T nor Apple offer insurance on the iPhone. Whether you lose it or get robbed at gunpoint, you're screwed. Unless, of course, in addition to the $100 per month you pay for service, you want to insure it with a third party--an option that I did not know existed until 2 months ago.

After facing the fact that I wasn't getting my phone back, I called AT&T to suspend service and talk about options. It turns out the contract I signed with them (apparently in blood) says that I have to continue paying my monthly service fees even if I lose the phone. That means I'm stuck paying almost $100 per month for both a calling and data plan, despite not having a phone. My plan was to get the cheapest AT&T flip phone possible, cancel the data plan, and then switch over to Verizon in December (when my contract expires) for a sweet deal on a new Blackberry. But since I still have to pay for the data plan until my contract is up, I might as well get a new smart phone from AT&T, right? AND THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT AT&T IS BANKING ON. That's why they won't let you out of your data plan--because if you have to pay $30 per month until your contract is up, you might as well buy an expensive new replacement phone to make use of the data plan.

And, as if this tactic wasn't ~~shady~~ shitty enough, as if you didn't already feel obligated to spend money on a smart phone to make use of that data plan you HAVE TO pay for, Apple sweetens the pot. YOU'RE ELIGIBLE FOR AN UPGRADE! BRAND NEW iPHONE FOR ONLY $199!! If you sign another 2-year contract with the same ridiculous terms, ensuring our hold over you for eternity.

Sooooo let me get this straight. If I dare to choose a mobile device other than the iPhone as my replacement for the lost phone, I have the following options:
(a) pay $175 for the AT&T termination fee, plus XXX for a new Blackberry at Verizon, plus all the initial activation charges;
(b) pay XXX for a cheap flip phone, plus $30 per month for 6 months for a data plan I won't use, plus all the new money for the new Blackberry at Verizon; or
(c) pay $350 or however much a new Blackberry costs at AT&T (because don't forget that "upgrade" I'm entitled to only applies to an iPhone).

Or I could do exactly what Apple wants me to do and pay $199 for a new iPhone. Instead of simply letting me cancel my data plan and buy a new phone from a different company in 6 months. As someone pointed out, "This is why Steve Jobs is filthy rich and way more devious than Bill Gates ever was."

Questions

2010-05-14T12:16:00.000-07:00

What can you guys tell me about working in human resources? Have any of you, my loyal readers and casual perusers, ever held a position in HR? Do you or someone close to you work there now? What did it take to get hired? Do you like your job? Are you comfortable with your salary? What do you do, exactly?

Any info would be greatly appreciated. If you don't feel comfortable talking about work in such a public forum, feel free to email me. dhmalovic@gmail.com.

Thanks. And stay awesome.

Moving on

2010-05-12T10:22:00.000-07:00

Here's a first glance at my new digs.

My new roommates and I sign the lease tomorrow and move in on the 25th. I am so excited to pay less rent, I could pee my pants.

You are allowed to complain

2010-05-11T16:47:00.002-07:00

Have you ever expressed frustration over something only to have the listening party say something like, "At least you have a job," or "It could be worse"? That really, REALLY bothers me. Yes, I have a job when many do not. Yes, I have a roof over my head while many do not. And I appreciate how lucky I am based on those two things alone. But you know what? I'm still allowed to complain about life. It's called relativity. Not having someone die in a natural disaster or not having my husband in Afghanistan doesn't preclude me from bitching about money, relationships, or other things that might seem petty to those less fortunate than me.

If you've read any of my recent blog posts, you'll know that I have some pretty serious student loans to pay off. Student loans that I took out to pay for a degree that I am not using. Is that anyone else's problem other than my own? Absolutely not. Could it be worse? Heck yeah it could. Relative to the plight of a Nigerian refugee, my problems are nonsense. But relative to my life, to my first-world issues, it sucks big sweaty donkey balls. I hate being broke. It keeps me up at night. It keeps me from concentrating at work. It affects my relationship with my amazing boyfriend, and I fear it's starting to affect my sanity. If I don't do something about it, I will never be able to afford a mortgage, a new car payment, a vacation, not even a shopping trip to anywhere other than Target. Would any of that matter if I were diagnosed with a terrible disease tomorrow? Not in the least. Lucky for me, they're my BIGGEST worry at the moment.

So pardon me for living in a cool house in a great city and not fearing for my life on a daily basis. Excuse me for not worrying about how to feed my family, but instead about how I'm going to afford a ticket home to see my family who are all alive and well. I appreciate how lucky I am in all those regards, but I absolutely refuse to apologize for it.

Back to life

2010-05-11T12:43:00.003-07:00

Vacations are fun. They're even more fun when you get to do vacation-y type things with your significant other, instead of with your significant other and your dad. But hey--it's not my dad's fault he wanted to spend every free minute with his daughter who he hasn't seen in over a year.

Hi, Daddy! You're on the internet!

Nor is it my dad's fault that Rad Boyfriend and I left our party clothes at his house in Boca Raton before we left to attend a wedding three hours away in Orlando, causing us to spend our only free day at a mall.

A mall that's near something called "Holy Land Experience." (??)

But you know what? We still had a blast.

Because we were together. (Commence vomiting in 3, 2, 1....)

How I know I'll (someday, in the future, years from now, and not now) make a good mommy

2010-05-03T16:25:00.000-07:00

When I was 13, my cousin Julia was born. And I couldn't have been more ecstatic! Being an only child, I begged my parents for years to have another baby. "I want someone to play with!" I'd say. "You have your cousin Nicolle to play with!" they'd counter. And so it went. For years, we were the youngest two people in our family, the only cousins close enough in age and relation and physical proximity to play together.

Until my aunt, Nicolle's mother, remarried and got pregnant. And oh how happy I was! A baby! To play with and feed and cuddle with and teach naughty words to! (Ed. note: teaching a 1-year old to say "Truck you" is HILARIOUS.) And so a few days before Easter Sunday 14 years ago, very early in the morning, Julia Veronica was born. And she was cute and perfect and cuddly and awesome.

As she got older, I would go over to my aunt's house to help out. I'd let my sleep-deprived aunt sleep in while I got up with Julie and fed her breakfast, I'd change her diapers, play with her, teach her naughty words, everything I said I wanted to do with her.

And one day I was coming down the wood stairs in my socks. Julie was about 10 months old and wearing a fuzzy, white footy pajama thing with a big brown bear on the front--I will forever remember that. I must have just gone up to get her from a nap. I took three steps down the staircase and BOOM. My socked feet flew out in front of me on the slippery varnished parquet and I hit the steps hard on my back. My instant--and I mean INSTANT--reaction was to hold Julie to my chest with my left arm and cup the back of her head with my right hand, instead of bracing my fall or catching my footing. We slid all the way to the bottom of the stairs like that, her pressed against my chest and me stifling my screams so as not to scare her. At the bottom of the steps I propped her on my lap and looked at her, trying to determine if I'd a) killed her in the fall or b) suffocated her from holding her to tightly. She wasn't crying...she was just blinking. She had this half-dazed, half-sleepy look on her face like she was all, "Dude, what just happened?" And then she stuck her fingers in my mouth and looked towards the kitchen and I knew she was fine. I sat there for a good minute, just looking at her, thinking about what could've happened. The fact that I'd just descended 13 steps on my spine didn't even cross my mind.

I carefully got up and stumbled into the kitchen and put her in her high chair. Only after I put some Cherrios in her tray did I stop to examine my wounds: bruised butt, check. Bruised coccyx, double check. Bruised entire-lower-back area, check. Aching spine and head? Yup. Bruised elbows? Oh yeah. I pulled my shirt back down and looked at Julie. She was smiling up at me with whole grain O's all over her face. I took her tiny hand and said, "I'm sorry, kid. I promise I won't ever scare you like that again." And almost like she knew what I was saying, she squeezed my hand and pulled me closer to her face. "I'll take that as a 'you're welcome," I said to her.

The moral of the story? There is none. Just that 14 years later, she's alive and well. And you can tell from the picture below that she just loves that I still call her "kid."

17 things I've learned since turning 27

2010-04-28T06:00:00.001-07:00

*Redheads make awesome roommates.

*Expensive shampoo and high-quality hair products are TOTALLY worth it.

*Name-brand drugs are not.

*Paying off your credit cards early is essential.

*Skinny jeans don't look good on everyone.

*Shapeless dresses don't look on anyone.

*Funky earrings are where it's at.

*The comfort of a good pair of shoes greatly outweighs how cute you look in those killer heels.

*Don't underestimate the value of cheap rent. Living with more than one person, away from the center of everything, can save you a TON of money.

*Cooking is fun!

*Being negative gets you nowhere. Smile often and don't take things so seriously.

*Scarves make awesome, cheap accessories.

*Sex gets better as you get older.

*Internet withdrawal takes about two days. If you can make it that far, you can make it two months.

*Counter space really is as important as HGTV makes it out to be.

*Living together can wait. The longer you wait, the stronger your relationship will be.

*Respect yourself. If you don't, who will?

Random Friday Rumminations

2010-04-23T10:55:00.004-07:00

Happy Friday!! Hope your week was better than bad. Here are some random things I've compiled from the Interwebs recently. Hope you enjoy =)

Friday Night Lights comes back on May 7th, y'all!! Anyone out there who has been following this blog since last year knows ALL about my obsession with that show. Now that it's back, I won't feel so bad about staying in on the occasional Friday evening.

Have you guys been to CuteOverload.com yet? Because if you haven't, you really should. That link gives you all the information you need regarding the contents of that site. Nuf said.

I know I can be a literally nerd sometimes, but this really made me laugh.

Some friends and I recently played a game called "What celebrity would you be?" wherein you choose a celebrity you'd most like to look like. I chose Rashida Jones because... c'mon, do I really have to explain it?! But after seeing these recent photos of Christina Hendricks in Esquire, I'm starting to rethink my choice. SIZZLE!!!

Speaking of Esquire magazine, I found this survey really interesting. Mostly because I fall within the majority in my answer to A LOT of these questions. (Except for the one about facial hair. Case in point.) Check it out ladies, and see if you agree!

The weekend is upon us. Rejoice!

Why my relationship works

2010-04-20T13:07:00.005-07:00

Scene: Rad Boyfriend and I are discussing plans for tonight via the gChat.

RB: I have to help a friend with some computer stuff after work today. So maybe 8pm?
Me, grumbling silently to myself: That's way too late to eat dinner, I'll be starving by 6. No way we'll make it through the whole movie.
Me, to RB: Baby, I would wait forever for you. But if you can make it any earlier than 8, I would greatly appreciate it.

How to annoy me/Things I don't understand

2010-04-15T12:15:00.009-07:00

ATTENTION LANDLORDS/PROPERTY MANAGERS:

When you post an ad on craigslist for the apartment you're trying to rent without photos, it leads me to two conclusions: a) you're a lazy landlord who doesn't want to waste your time taking and posting pictures; and b) you suck, the apartment sucks, and I shouldn't waste my time going to look at it.

Renting out an apartment is like selling a product. You have to market it, promote its best qualities, and highlight the features. Car companies don't advertise their vehicles by producing ads that say "2010 Honda Civic, $16,000, dealer on Mission Avenue." Likewise, landlords shouldn't advertise their rental units in 20 words or less. When I see a posting that looks like that, I have ZERO desire to contact the landlord, let alone go see the apartment. It makes me think the apartment is so dumpy and awful that posting even one picture would turn renters off. It also gives me a negative first impression of the person I'm writing my rent check to every month. If they can't take the time to put together a proper listing, what happens if I have a gas leak?

Red and I recently had to do the legwork of finding a renter for our house. Here's the ad we posted:

$1595 / 2br - Craftsman House w/ Hardwood Floors and Backyard (North Park ) (map)

Date: 2010-04-08, 2:21PM PDT
Reply to: hous-pc5ys-1682872021@craigslist.org ^{[Errors when replying to ads?]}

Charming 2-bedroom Craftsman home available for rent June 5th. Enjoy privacy in your own house and fenced-in backyard! Centrally located in North Park and within walking distance of University Avenue, Hillcrest Farmer's Market, Henry's, Albertson's, and plenty of shops and restaurants. Close to Hillcrest, University Heights, Balboa Park, and minutes from Downtown. Nearby freeways: 163, 8, and 805. Cats welcome!

* 2 bedrooms, both with walk-in closets
* 1 bonus room with closet, perfect for an office or den
* 1 large bathroom
* washer and dryer hookups
* kitchen with gas stove and fridge
* huge pantry
* hardwood floors
* built-in bookcases in living room
* built-in buffet in dining room
* tons of storage space
* large front porch
* fenced-in backyard
* INCLUDED: landscaping, water, and trash pick-up

If you're interested, please call Danielle @ XXX.XXX.XXXX

OR.....

OPEN HOUSE: We've had so much interest in the house that we've decided to have an open house. SATURDAY, APRIL 10, 1-3pm. XXXX Lincoln Avenue

Property managed by Heritage Property Consulting.

cats are OK - purrr
Location: North Park
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 1682872021

We posted this ad last Thursday and had a lease signed by Monday. The ad below has been up since April 7th.

$1400 / 3br - House in Great Central Location (City Heights/North Park)

Date: 2010-04-07, 12:01PM PDT
Reply to: see below

Nice & updated private 3 bedroom house
Borders North Park, 1 bath, flexible lease, washer/dryer hookups, refrig, stove, fenced yard
$1200 security deposit
Available now
Call 858-547-9188

Just sayin'.

My bearded man

2010-04-13T09:44:00.011-07:00

I've mentioned the Rad Boyfriend in passing several times on this here weblog, but I've never gotten into how we met or came to be Rad Boyfriend and Awesome Girlfriend. And I probably won't, not for a while. I am, however, dedicating this post to one of the many reasons why Rad Boyfriend is so Rad.

Several weeks ago, I hurt my back. It's unclear how exactly I hurt it, but I did. And I ignored my body for those several weeks and continued lifting heavy laundry baskets and boxes, and continued to get down on my hands and knees to scrub the kitchen floor. My body didn't like this so much, because I woke up on Sunday morning and literally couldn't move. Every motion of my body, no matter how slight, made me hyperventilate with pain. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to blink, it hurt to lay still. I somehow made it out of bed to use the bathroom, and promptly burst into tears after I laid back down in bed. This was NOT good.

I happened to be house-sitting at the time, and the owner of the house happens to be a helicopter EMT who just happens to have some pretty sweet prescription drugs in the guest bathroom. Quick lesson in whatever sort of back injury I have: PAIN KILLERS DO NOT HELP THE PAIN. Neither prescription-strength ibuprofen nor Vicodin did a thing to help ease my agony. I gimped around all day like a gimpy gimp and it was miserable.

Miserable except for one thing: Rad Boyfriend. I'd been complaining about my back for several days by that point, and he realized the magnitude of my pain when I came back to bed that morning in tears. He immediately took over, and for the next two days, he did EVERYTHING for me. He helped me get dressed, he unloaded the dishwasher, he brought me drinks and snacks, he fed the dog that he's allergic to, he went to the store for me, EVERYTHING. He even went to the airport to pick up a friend for me! If he saw me lean towards the coffee table, he asked what I wanted and got it for me. When I dropped my phone (or glasses or remote control) he picked it up for me. He even spent an extra night with me knowing he'd have to wake up early the next morning to go home and get ready before work. And at the end of that day? He came back with my favorite snacks. He loaded the dishwasher and did the dishes and fed the dog. He had dinner with me, we watched a movie together, and when it was time for him to go home, he checked all the windows, locked the doors, tucked me into bed, and told me to call him in the morning if I needed anything.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Reason Number 970,687 why Rad Boyfriend is so Rad.

It was organic and crunchy

2010-04-13T09:19:00.004-07:00

Scene: I'm house-sitting for some friends of the Rad Boyfriend and...me? Myself? Whatever, I'm house-sitting for people we both know. Rad Boyfriend opens up their fridge and pulls out a plastic deli container.

RB: This is the most hippie-looking peanut butter I've ever seen.

Coming to terms with my unwealth

2010-04-09T11:53:00.004-07:00

I went to law school and spent a ton of money on tuition and living expenses. I didn't think about the cost of all that stuff because HEY! I'm gonna be a LAWYER! I'm gonna make a BUTTLOAD of money after all is said and done!

Yeah, not so much.

Fast-forward to almost 2 years after graduation and I think I've finally decided (for sure) that I don't want to practice law. I'd been toying with the idea of taking the California bar exam, but ultimately decided against it. It's expensive, time-consuming, and I don't have any guarantee of passing it, or more importantly, finding a position as an attorney afterward. And California has this funny thing about licensed attorneys working as paralegals--they don't like it. So not only do I not have any prospects of finding a job as a lawyer, but I could never go back to being a paralegal. I think I'll stick with my current job, thank you very much.

But here's the problem with spending all that money on an education that doesn't doesn't lead to a fancy, 6-figure salary: it sucks your wallet dry. Do you have any idea how much my student loan payments are each month? A LOT. Add to that the cost of moving across the country with no savings and into an expensive house because I just HAD to live in a Craftsman, and BAM. Instant wallet-drainer. Not good times.

So what have I done to fix this money problem? Well, several things. First I stopped eating out so much. When Rad Boyfriend and I first started dating, we went out ALL THE TIME. That promptly ended when my car got towed and my car insurance was due and I was in a bad state. After that, I started bargain hunting when it came to groceries and shopping. (Three words: Trader Joe's and Target. That's all I'm saying.) Then I started looking for a second job. I dreaded the idea of having to work retail, but I sucked it up and applied to a bunch of different jobs, both retail and non-retail. I don't want to jinx anything, but let's just say I've had some luck in the non-retail department. (More on that later.)

And finally, the thing that will save me the most amount of money every month, I decided to move out of my very awesome, very expensive house, and into a 3-bedroom apartment with 2 friends. It's going to be quite a change living with 2 people and sharing a bathroom with a boy. But you know what? It's worth it. Not only do I love these 2 friends dearly, but we're adults now. We know how to respect each other's space and keep things clean. We all have jobs, we all have schedules, and most importantly, we all want to save some money.

So goodbye awesome Craftsman house. Goodbye kitties whom I've grown to love like my own. Goodbye Red, one of the best roommates I have EVER had. Goodbye font porch and walk-in closet and hardwood floors.

AND HELLO SAVINGS ACCOUNT!!

It feels good to be an adult and have my priorities straight =)

Earthquake!

2010-04-05T09:56:00.002-07:00

I experienced my first actual SoCal earthquake yesterday--7.2!! And here's how I reacted:

Rad Boyfriend and I were sitting on his parents' couch, about 60 miles north of San Diego. I'd been drinking a bit and thought I felt something strange, but attributed it to the alcohol. I looked over at RB and saw him rocking back and forth on the couch like it was a glider. "Are you moving the couch?" I asked him. "No!" he responded, "it's an earthquake!"

D'oh!

How I know my family still loves me even though I moved 3,000 away from them

2010-04-02T11:02:00.007-07:00

My mom called me this morning to tell me that I will be receiving a package in the mail. The contents of said package?

"Well, you know your grandmother. Once she gets an idea into her head, there's no stopping her. She wanted to send you an Easter package. She made sweet bread, so she sent you some of that. And a smoked sausage from that deli you like. And two hard-boiled eggs that you may or may not want to throw out by the time you get the package. It's all wrapped in a frilly apron that she bought for you. And when I say frilly, I mean it's frilly. Also, be careful when you throw the box away because she also put $20 at the bottom for you."

You guys, how cute are they?!

So how will y'all be spending your Easter? Church or no church? Dressed up or casual? Are you going to your family's house, or are you hosting? I myself will be going to church in my Sunday best, which will be followed by some day-drinking and dinner at the Rad Boyfriend's family's house. And when your Rad Boyfriend has three teenage step-siblings, one brother and sister-in-law, one 3-year-old half sister, and a bevvy of entertaining relatives that regularly throw each other into the pool fully clothed, your Easter Sunday is sure to be fun =)

Good point, albiet a little sweeping in its assumption that all Republicans/Conservatives feel this way

2010-03-30T12:05:00.004-07:00

I try and stay away from politics on this here blog, but once in a while something comes along that is too good not to share. The following excerpt has been floating around the interwebs for a little while now. I found it here. While it does pigeonhole an inferred group of people, I happen to think some of this makes a good point. Enjoy. Or don't.

You didn't get mad when the Supreme Court stopped a legal recount and appointed a President.
You didn't get mad when Cheney allowed Energy company officials to dictate energy policy.
You didn't get mad when a covert CIA operative got outed.
You didn't get mad when the Patriot Act got passed. You didn't get mad when we illegally invaded a country that posed no threat to us.
You didn't get mad when we spent over 600 billion (and counting) on said illegal war.
You didn't get mad when over 10 billion dollars just disappeared in Iraq.
You didn't get mad when you found out we were torturing people. You didn't get mad when the government was illegally wiretapping Americans.
You didn't get mad when we didn't catch Bin Laden.
You didn't get mad when you saw the horrible conditions at Walter Reed.
You didn't get mad when we let a major US city, New Orleans, drown.
You didn't get mad when we gave a 900 billion tax break to the rich. You didn't get mad when the deficit hit the trillion dollar mark.
You finally got mad when the government decided that people in America deserved the right to see a doctor if they are sick. Yes, illegal wars, lies, corruption, torture, stealing your tax dollars to make the rich richer, are all okay with you, but helping other Americans...oh hell no.

Because I love food. And you guys.

2010-03-23T14:37:00.004-07:00

I just bought $75 worth of gift certificates to some of my favorite restaurants for SIX DOLLARS!!! How did I do it? Do I have connections in the restaurant industry? Is my boyfriend's dad in the food business? (He is, but that's not how I got this deal.)

Restaurant.com is running a deal where you can buy a $25 gift certificate to any restaurant on their website for $2. Just enter the promo code COOK. That's it. And the only strings attached are that you usually have to spend $35 at the restaurant in order to redeem the certificate, it's only valid Monday-Thursday, and it's not good on alcohol. If you ask me, that's still a phenomenal deal. Bon appetit, you guys!

Editor's note: I am in no way affiliated with this website. I just really, really like food!

A $189 misunderstanding

2010-03-16T12:20:00.005-07:00

The Rad Boyfriend and I recently booked a trip to Florida to visit family and attend a wedding. We purchased plane tickets a few weeks ago and we've been looking into hotels ever since. Our main criteria for hotels was (a) cheap and (b) close to our friends. Today I went on hotels.com and found some pretty inexpensive options that were super close to our friends. After emailing back and forth with the bride, I decided on one hotel in particular and gChat'ed a link to Rad Boyfriend:

me: [link to hotel]
$84/night
1.4 miles from that other hotel they were talking about
and it's a 3.5 star hotel
let me know what you think
Sent at 11:10 AM on Tuesday

Sometime after 11:10, I changed my gChat status to "I think I want Burger Lounge for lunch."

Between 11:44 and 11:49, the following exchange took place:

Rad Boyfriend: Mmmm
Do it
me: ok
total is $188.92
for 2 nights
Sent at 11:49 AM on Tuesday
Rad Boyfriend: Haha no wait
Burger lounge I meant haha
me: dude
i just booked it

HE SAID "DO IT"!! Internet, if you asked your boyfriend what he thought about a hotel, and the next response you got from him was "do it," what would you think?

Luckily the hotel is really nice and close to our friends and only $84 per night, which is much less than we were expecting. And most importantly:

me: are you mad?
Rad Boyfriend: Not really
No
Amused a little

So it all worked out. And he's still Rad.

Feeling whimsical

2010-03-16T09:39:00.002-07:00

Dogfish
by Mary Oliver

Some kind of relaxed and beautiful thing
kept flickering in with the tide
and looking around.
Black as a fisherman's boot,
with a white belly.

If you asked for a picture I would have to draw a smile
under the perfectly round eyes and above the chin,
which was rough
as a thousand sharpened nails.

And you know
what a smile means,
don't you?

I wanted the past to go away, I wanted
to leave it, like another country; I wanted
my life to close, and open
like a hinge, like a wing, like the part of the song
where it falls
down over the rocks: an explosion, a discovery;
I wanted
to hurry into the work of my life; I wanted to know,

whoever I was, I was

alive
for a little while.

It was evening, and no longer summer.
Three small fish, I don't know what they were,
huddled in the highest ripples
as it came swimming in again, effortless, the whole body
one gesture, one black sleeve
that could fit easily around
the bodies of three small fish.

Also I wanted
to be able to love. And we all know
how that one goes,
don't we?

Slowly

the dogfish tore open the soft basins of water.

You don't want to hear the story
of my life, and anyway
I don't want to tell it, I want to listen

to the enormous waterfalls of the sun.

And anyway it's the same old story - - -
a few people just trying,
one way or another,
to survive.

Mostly, I want to be kind.
And nobody, of course, is kind,
or mean,
for a simple reason.

And nobody gets out of it, having to
swim through the fires to stay in
this world.

And look! look! look! I think those little fish
better wake up and dash themselves away
from the hopeless future that is
bulging toward them.

And probably,
if they don't waste time
looking for an easier world,

they can do it.

Thank you, Alice.

While the boss is away....

2010-03-05T11:10:00.010-08:00

....there's only so much busy work I can do.

My boss has been out sick ALL WEEK. I've done everything I can possibly do in the meantime to keep myself busy, and I am getting B-O-R-E-D. Hence I thought now would be a good time to write a blog post. Only I don't really have much to write about, so this might be a hodgepodge of miscellaneous topics:

The Rad Boyfriend and I are going to Florida in May to visit family and attend a wedding. We'll be in Miami for 2 nights and in Orlando for 2 nights. Any suggestions on what to do in Miami? The last time I was there, I was 15 and only remember The News Cafe and this. (Don't click on that if you're at work--while not offensive, it might shock some work folk.) Any suggestions on restaurants and whatnot would be helpful =)
Because I'm poor, I went clothes shopping at Target recently and found some AWESOME stuff. Seriously ladies, check it out!
When I first moved into my current house, everything was white: white walls, while built-ins, white appliances, white white white. Even my bedset at the time was white:

So I went to Bed Bath & Beyond recently and bought a bedset almost the exact opposite of white: it's brown. Dark brown with shades of aqua and lime green. Pair that with the dark wook furniture and the darker curtains I bought, I'm starting to think it's just too dark in the room. ::Sigh:: I guess we live and learn through decorating mistakes.

Here is an adorable picture of Tioga, one of the kitties Red and I have temporarily adopted:

I say temporarily because her mommy and daddy are in Peru doing Peace Corps-type work and will be back in July. I'm gonna miss these kitties!

On being in a relationship

2010-03-02T09:11:00.004-08:00

Scene: I accidentally used Rad Boyfriend's toothbrush over the weekend, and almost did it again last night. His response:

"Here's how you can tell the difference between my toothbrush and your toothbrush: mine is the normal-looking one, and yours is the one that looks like it's been shoved in a blender."

But I like it here....

2010-02-19T10:45:00.003-08:00

Dan over at [redacted] recently wrote a post about moving back to New York City after living in Miami for a few years. I left the following comment about my fear one day moving back home:

Glad you're back. However I must say, being a born-and-bred New Yorker who moved to warmer climates myself, this worries me. Does this mean I'll end up moving back to the snow and sleet, too? Is every New Yorker's inevitable plight to move someplace awesome and warm, only to realize how much they miss the En Why See? Because I really, REALLY like it here in San Diego. :-/

Here is his response:

Put it this way, Danielle. If New York and San Diego were people, New York would be Jon Hamm and San Diego would be a Jonas Brother, and when the Jonas Brother saw Jon Hamm hanging out all nonchalantly on the street corner he'd be like, "What are you doing, Jon Hamm?" and Jon Hamm would be like, "Just waiting for you to fuck it up, Jonas Brother."

All I have to say is this: if San Diego somehow stops being awesome, or if I ever tire of wearing flip-flops to work (whichever comes first), and this results in me moving back to New York, Don Draper better have an affair with me.

Choosing my words carefully

2010-02-16T10:44:00.003-08:00

I live in San Diego where the weather is warm and the sun is out and I can wear flip-flops 300 days out of the year. Most all of my friends and family are on the East coast, where they were just hit with feet of snow and will likely suffer through at least 2 more months of below-freezing temperatures. This makes for awkward conversation when my mom calls and asks me what I'm doing. Because I don't want to lie to her, but at the same time, I don't want to tell her that I'm sitting outside sipping champagne and enjoying brunch on the patio of a nice restaurant.... that would just be mean. So how do I handle this situation? By downplaying it:

Mom: Hi babe, how are you? What are you doing?
Me: I'm good. We're... uh... sitting outside, nothing special.
Mom: How is the weather? Is it nice out?
Me: Uh, yeah. It's in the 70's. Which is a nice change, because it rained here all last week.
Mom: The 70's? Really? Ugh. It's 34 and snowing here. AGAIN.
Me: Aw man, that sucks. But at least the snow is pretty, right?
Mom: Yeah, until I have to dig my car out of it.
Me: Uh... well....
Mom: So what's the temperature there?
Me: Um.. 72 I think?
Mom: Aaahh!! Are you wearing a t-shirt and flip-flops?
Me: Yeah, but it's the first time I've gone out without a sweater in weeks.
Mom: A sweater?! I've been wearing my winter coat for 3 months already! I am so jealous.

And so it goes. No matter how much I downplay it, my mother will always assert that I have it better out here than she has it back home. Until I remind her that she gets to snuggle up with this every night:

Why he's so rad

2010-02-15T10:37:00.005-08:00

Six months ago, right when we started dating, I mentioned in passing that I'd never had flowers sent to my office before. Thursday afternoon I came back from lunch and found this on my desk.

He is awesome =)

It's been a long, long time

2010-02-15T09:20:00.003-08:00

For those of you who still have me in your "blogs I'm following" list, hi! And welcome back! For those of you who have taken me off your list, well you're probably not reading this anyway. So =P

It's been a while, I know. I promised (twice) to start writing this blog thing again, and both times I broke my promise. It's just that things got so busy so fast, I barely had time to sleep let alone update a website. I know, I suck. So how's about no more promises? Much like starting a new relationship, let's just see where things go from here.

I think I mentioned in some previous posts that I finally made my life-long dream of moving to California come true. Too much time has passed to get into an in-depth discussion about the past six months, so let's pick up where we should've left off....

....with this season of LOST. I am not loving it. Maybe I need to watch each episode twice like I did last season. Maybe I need to sit back and just let it happen without reading too much into it. (HA!) Or maybe I've just grown out of the show.

My main complaint is that after 5 years of messing with our heads and constantly adding new characters and storylines without reconciling previous ones, they've yet again added a whole new twist. IN THE LAST SEASON. Aren't they supposed to be tying up loose ends at this point? Who is this Asian leader and what does he want with the Losties? How long have he and his people (and the temple) been there? How does this plot line tie in with the history of the show and the island? How does it tie in with the whole parallel universe thing they've got going on?

I was all prepared to spend 16 episodes being shocked and amazed and saying stuff like, "Ooohh NOW I get it!" But instead, I've spend the last 3 (has it been three? I've lost count already) being annoyed and bored. Don't get me wrong, I will still watch every episode and analyze the crap out of it with Red as we sit on the couch sipping wine. But the less interesting it gets, the more wine I will drink. And considering the amount of wine I already drink, more is definitely not good.

LOST: Please go back to be interesting. My Tuesday nights (and ability to function on Wednesday morning) depend on it.

Pros and cons of living in a gay neighborhood

2009-11-15T11:09:00.007-08:00

Pro: Everything is better. The food and service in restaurants, the quality and selection in grocery stores, the friendliness of merchants, EVERYTHING.
Con: The staff constantly hits on your boyfriend.

Pro: Houses and lawns are well-maintained, and the trash is always taken out and sorted properly.
Con: The bums know this and go through all the trash cans in your alley.

Pro: Small children are few and far between, as are loud football parties.
Con: Brunch establishments are packed on the weekends.

Pro: Everyone has a dog.
Con: They're usually small and yappy and poop on your grass.

Pro: Cars are kept clean and with minimal obnoxious flair.
Con: Cars are washed by flamboyant shirtless men (not so much a con) who blast techno music at 8am on Sunday morning (definitely a con).

Pro: Everyone is super nice and friendly.
Con: They Constantly. Hit on. Your boyfriend.

The Wedding, Part 2

2009-11-12T05:38:00.000-08:00

Last we heard about The Wedding, the girls were on their way into the church to meet the boys for some aisle-walkin'. That part went off without a hitch; even the 3-year old ring bearer and his little flower girlfriend did their parts and walked hand-in-hand down the aisle. And it was just as adorable as you might think.

Aside from one minor trip over a chair at the alter, the reading I gave at the church (from my iPhone) went well. The groom kissed the bride and we all cheered and clapped and took a thousand and one pictures. Including this one:

Told you they were as adorable as you thought they were ;-)

The limo ride to the reception was.... well, I'm not allowed to talk about the limo ride to the reception. Just know that there was a lot of drinking and personal picture-taking involved. And that it was F-U-N!!!

So we get to the reception hall and we're all nice and toasty, ready for some more boozin' and dancin' and actin' a fool. We hover outside of the hall while all the guests file in, and stop every single server on his or her way out that has even the slightest bit of food left on their serving tray. (We were HUN-GOR-AY!!) As we're milling about aimlessly, Cousin Dee (not to be confused with Me Dee) ushers a very frantic looking woman into the hallway. This woman is clearly upset and begins to talk a bit of smack about another family member, something about someone's husband and who has to stay away from him and some how someone told someone else to keep her hands of him, whoever "him" is. Very confusing. Very agitated. I thank God the bride is not around to witness it. This woman eventually calms down, and someone finally tells us to just go inside and eat, that it'll be at least an hour before the DJ introduces us. So we do.

Then we go back out and dance our way inside. Every couple does a funny dance on their way in, except that the best man and I have decided that he's going to carry me in. Which actually turns out to be pretty funny, because the best man is a 300-pound black man that looks sort of like the Notorious B.I.G., and I am a 125-pound (shut up, I'm estimating) white girl dressed in an elaborate bridesmaid gown and holding flowers. Oh, and he carries me out to Don't Stop Believin'. True story!!

So at this point in the festivities, the bride and groom have danced their first dance and my BFF Caila (hi Caila!!) take this opportunity to go use the ladies room. We walk out into the hallway and are confronted by 6 or 7 servers, 2 managers with headsets, and a flurry of wedding guests. We see 2 children crying in a coat closet and someone trying to console them. The entrance to the patio is being blocked by a member of the catering staff, and we have no idea what the frack is going on. We look out onto the patio and see two females, one of which is the agitated lady from earlier, being held back by a dude, while another lady is being held back by someone else. They are clearly involved in some sort of altercation. Just as we begin to understand the situation, I see blue and red flashing lights. In what probably took all of 10 seconds, the following happened: a manager in a headset pushed his way through the crowd gathering in the hallway yelled at everyone to clear out and refuses to let anyone in from or out to the patio; a wedding guest claiming to he a police officer (who actually is) tries unsuccessfully to push his way outside to help, and become increasingly angry when no one lets him through--they eventually let him through; the bride's brother and his girlfriend try to exit the hall and are frantically pushed back inside by Caila and myself, but when the girlfriend insists she has to pee (poor girl, she'd been holding it for hours!), we have to let her through and explain that there is a fight taking place on the patio outside, and please don't tell the bride or groom. At this point, 6 uniformed police officers and 2 undercover cops have congregated on the patio of this restaurant. The uniformed officers try to enter the building and are politely asked not to, with pleadings of, "Come on guys, this is a wedding. We don't need the bride to find out about this. They're inside having a good time, they just danced their first dance. Let's not make this worse. Can we keep it outside?" (I fully admit to being one of the first people to say those words.) At first, the officers get all "who the fuck do you think you are, I'm a cop and there's been an altercation, I can do whatever I want," but then an undercover agent comes over and makes the same argument that this is a wedding, let's keep it down, and the police take care of the situation outside.

Phew. It seems to be over.

But it's not. Before we can say, "Oh good, let's not tell the bride or groom about this," the groom comes flying around the other side of the patio, clearly upset. And I'm using that term very lightly. He was mad. Fuming, in fact. And rightly so. He has a few choice words for the ladies involved in the fight (who, let's just say, should've been acting with the utmost class and respect considering their relation to the bride and groom), throws his jacket on the floor, and storms out of the restaurant. Both his father and I chase him down the street until I realize I'm the one in 4 inch heels. So I stop running and go back inside to do damage control. Caila and I are both very hush-hush about the situation, downplaying it as much as we can, giving as little detail as possible. The groom comes back inside smiling, and it seems as though his father has calmed him down. The party continues. The bride at some point comes over to my table and casually asks, "Soooo.... how many people saw the fight? Who else knows the cops were called? Come on, you can tell me. I can take it. I've been drinking since this morning."

Aaah, what a wedding. The rest of it went off without a hitch. I gave my speech, we all danced and ate, I nearly suffocated in my dress, my cousin got naked in the bathroom because of a Spanks malfunction, and we all agreed that it was a night to remember.

Winter

2009-11-09T10:20:00.003-08:00

I think I was born with thin blood. Or at least some sort of condition that renders me incapable of ever getting warm. Because even when it's 72 degrees outside, the slightest breeze will make me shiver.

It's been about 65-70 degrees during the day here in San Diego, and that's perfectly fine with me. But it goes down to around 57 at night and holy crap, am I freezing. Last night I slept in pajama pants, a t-shirt and sweatshirt, and under a "level 4" down comforter and I was STILL COLD. I wear a sweater and a pea coat to work every day, and still bring a scarf or wrap to drape around my shoulders. Even though I can wear flip flops to my office, I've opted for boots the past two weeks. Because once my feet start getting cold, then my hands start to feel it, and before I know it, I'm curled up in a ball under my desk basking in the warm air coming from my computer.

And the funny thing is that I've always been this way. San Diego didn't "get to me" or "thin my blood" as some like to joke. I was always the first one to wear my winter coat and the last one to ever leave the house without a sweater, even in the dead of summer. Because you know how cold it gets in those air conditioned stores......

So I ask you, Internet: WTF? Why am I so damn cold? I moved from the frigid home of the Nor'easter that is New York, to a desert on the ocean where the temperature is a constant 60-80, and I still can't shake the cold. Are there others like me? Do YOU turn the heat on in October like I do? Some support would be nice here.

As per your requests

2009-11-05T14:16:00.001-08:00

Mrs. Mia Wallace.

I can't argue with that

2009-11-02T22:27:00.003-08:00

Boss's wife: So what were you for Halloween?
Me: Uma Thurman from Pulp Fiction. I had a syringe sticking out of chest and blood coming out of my nose and a black wig. It was pretty cool.
Other attorney in office: I love it!! Did you carry around bags of heroin too?
Me: Nah. I thought that given the profession I've chosen to embark upon, that might not be appropriate.
Other attorney: Oh, so.... coke?

5 new reasons why San Diego is awesome

2009-10-23T15:17:00.002-07:00

I can wear jeans and flip-flops to work every day. (At least at this job.)
Bringing your dog into work is not uncommon.
Saying you work "downtown" here is not the same as saying you work downtown in New York in that your commute isn't 2 hours long.
Burritos.
Beer. San Diego was recently voted the #1 city in America for beer.

Wedding, Part I

2009-10-22T09:56:00.008-07:00

My best friend got married a few weeks ago and I was the maid of honor. It was an awesome weekend filled with car towing, scotch drinking, falling, fighting, dancing, and police intervention. Let's recap that weekend, shall we?

Wednesday morning, 8am: Rad Boyfriend and I walk out of my house in San Diego and realize my car is not where I left it. I call the police and they inform me that it's been towed. After 2 hours of phone calls, emails, faxes and tears, RB drives me to work, picks me up later, then drives me to the airport. And all without complaint.

Wednesday night, 11pm: My red-eye to NY is full, RB comes back to the airport to pick me up.

Thursday morning, 4:45am: Cab comes to pick me up and drive me to the airport, where I am told the chances of getting on a flight are slim. I somehow get to Atlanta, and then to NY.

Thursday afternoon: Exhausted and hungry, I arrive at what used to be my childhood home, but is now virtually a brand new house--new kitchen, new bathroom, new floors, new windows, new cabinets, new everything. I am immediately put to work cleaning.

Friday morning: I walk downstairs in my robe and nearly give our contractor a heart attack as he looks awkwardly at my mother, then back to me, then decides the best thing to do is to turn his body completely away from me. Laughter ensues. More cleaning. I spend 3 hours at the DMV. I come home, eat, and resume cleaning the house in preparation for the 20 people we will have over before the wedding the next day. Meanwhile, back in San Diego, Extremely Rad Boyfriend is at the tow yard with the million documents I've sent him, getting my car back for me. (Have I mentioned how awesome he is?)

Friday evening, 9:30pm: Exhausted and filthy, I go get my nails done and practically fall asleep in the pedicure chair. Chinese food at my house with the bridesmaids, all of whom are sleeping over, makes me so tired that I can't keep my eyes open. We finally all get to bed at midnight.

Saturday morning, the big day: I wake up to find that everyone else has been up for over an hour and a half. I take a shower and rush to the salon where everyone is getting their hair and makeup done. We spend 3 hours getting washed, blown, straightened, curled, sprayed, brushed, lined, and photographed. Back at the house, the bride's family arrives as the 7 girls try to get ready in 2 bedrooms. It is a veritable mess of safety pins, hair spray, tears, mascara, tape, heels, bags, bobby pins, and people. People everywhere: photographer people, bridesmaid people, family people, little people (as in children, I wasn't that lucky!!) and more People.

Saturday afternoon: It's pouring rain. The bride is surprisingly calm about all the People and photographers and big wet drops falling from the sky. As the 3pm hour of the ceremony draws near, the People start to leave. We receive multiple phone calls from the groom telling us that the wedding before theirs is running super late, and not to leave yet. Learning that we have at least another 20 minutes, the bride hitches up her skirt and goes upstairs to collect her belongings. She returns with 3 bags on each arm and a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue, which she proceeds to drink straight from the bottle. We look around nervously for the photographer. The limo driver is waiting patiently under an umbrella in the pouring rain. We get the call that it's ok to leave, and we get on our way. The limo driver takes us one by one from the front door in the pouring rain and into the waiting limo--the limo that has marble floors. As everyone steps in with their heels, one by one we trip and fall. Hilarity ensues. The limo driver begins to pull away when I remember I've forgotten my speech, the reading I'm supposed to do in church, on the kitchen table. In a series of awkward turns that sends all of us flying around the back of the limo, we get back to my house.... only to find that someone has locked both doors (to which I have keys) and the screen door (to which I do not have a key.) "FUCK!" is the only thing I can say. Someone suggests I read the passage from my iPhone. "FUCK!" turns into "Fuck it." And that's what I end up doing.

In the next installment of this story, I will introduce to you the groomsmen, the priest, the catering staff at the reception hall, and the police.

To be continued.....

One of those rare moments when it makes perfect sense after the fact

2009-10-19T09:16:00.005-07:00

Regarding the neighbors' cat

Me: What color was it?
Rad Boyfriend: I dunno, cat-colored.
Me: Like orange?
RB: No. Like.... dark.
Me: Black?
RB: Eehhhh... no, not exactly.
Me: So brown?
RB: Ya sure, it had brown it in.

The next day, said cat walks past us on the walkway.

RB: See? Cat-colored!
Me: Oooohh... yeah, I see what you mean now.

How to annoy me, alley edition

2009-10-14T15:28:00.003-07:00

The alleyway is a new concept for me. Aside from college, I've never lived on a block that had an alley in (on?) it. And even in college, the alley was 10 floors down and on the other side of the building. So moving into a house that is not only directly on the alley, but having my bed mere feet from it, is a bit disconcerting. I'm not used to hearing the whispered conversations of couples that walk past my window at all hours of the night, or the loud cell phone conversations, or the barking dogs, or loud diesel truck engines at 4am, or the bums with shopping carts that troll the garbage cans on trash day. No, I'm not used to all that noise. And I don't like it. Some might even say it annoys me.

That front corner of the house right there, that's where my bed is. See how long that alleyway is? Do you know how many cars drive up and down that alley every day? Many.

String of bad luck

2009-10-13T14:27:00.005-07:00

So I mentioned yesterday that my car got towed a little while back. While I'd like to say that it was a freak, one-time incident, and that my bad luck ended right there, I can't say that. Because it's not true. Oh so ever not true.

Let's backtrack to around the end of September. I knew I was flying home on September 30th for my best friend's wedding, the wedding in which I was the maid of honor, the wedding for which the entire bridal party was getting ready at my family's newly-renovated house. (By the way, a contractor who stays until 11 o'clock at night the day before the wedding to finish the job is an awesome contractor.) I knew I would be crazy-busy before and after the big weekend, so I set up some automated online bill payments so that I wouldn't have to worry about them. But instead of withdrawing the money from my account 2 days after payday like it was supposed to, the bill processing website withdrew the funds my account that day--leaving me with a negative balance for over a week. Awesome.

The wedding weekend was a lot of fun, but that's a story in itself. It involves rain, getting locked out of my house, tripping on marble floors in the limo, reading a speech in church off an iPhone, the bride downing Johnny Walker Blue mere minutes before walking down the aisle, and 10 police officers showing up to the reception. Again, awesome. But let's move in to the next bit of bad luck....

The day I was supposed to leave for the wedding weekend, Rad Boyfriend and I step out of my house and stop short, both wondering the same thing: where is my car? "I parked right in front of you last night," Rad Boyfriend says. "I thought so, too," I reply. In short, my car-- with New York license plates, registered to my father, and with a registration that expired THAT DAY--was towed to a lot that wouldn't release it to me without a) a notarized letter from my dad releasing it to me, b) a current registration, and c) $470. Yeah. More awesomeness. Luckily, Rad Boyfriend stepped in and helped with that situation BIG TIME. But still... not a great experience.

I won't regal you the tales of my stand-by travel nightmares, as you can read about them here and here. I'll just tell you that I didn't make it on a total of 7 flights that weekend.

So I finally get back to The Diego on Sunday night after the wedding. I go to work the next day, and all is well. And then Tuesday morning I'm driving to work when all of a sudden, my car just turns off in the middle of the freeway. The RPM's go all the way to zero, and just as I start to pull over, all the lights on the dashboard come on, the steering wheel locks, and the car just shuts off. In the middle of 6 lanes of traffic going 80 miles per hour. Talk about scary. I manage to pull over to the shoulder, then get the car started while on the phone with AAA. I bring it to the shop the next morning, and luckily it's nothing major--but it's still gonna cost me $200. Awesome, right?

So amidst all the drama, I'm on the phone with my mom, crying about all this money I've had to spend, sobbing that I can't afford all these unexpected expenses, when I suddenly remember: my car insurance (paid biannually, not monthly) is due next month. ANOTHER $370 down the toilet. Fuck me.

Luckily nothing terrible has happened since realizing that over $1,000 will be debited from my bank account in the first two days of November (ah, how I love paying rent).... but I'm keeping my guard up. With my luck lately, I wouldn't be at all surprised if I broke a mirror while walking under a ladder and watching a black cat cross my path.

I'm back

2009-10-12T15:34:00.003-07:00

So I know it's been a while, and that I promised to be back sooner than now. But dammit, life got in the way!!

For those of you who still follow what I'm up to, I moved to the City of Awesome (aka San Diego) about 3 and a half months ago. And life has been been pretty fantastic ever since. I moved into a cute little craftsman bungalow with the famous Red, but not after living with the famous Liz for about a month. (A million public thanks to Lizard and her man Nick. Without them, I would've had to share space with strangers. And who wants that?) In summary, here's what I've been doing for the past few months:

I went and found myself a man of the Rad variety (rather, he found me);
I kicked some ass at Monday Night Trivia;
My car got towed and I had to pay a buttload of money to get it out;
I've flown to New York and/or the British Virgin Islands for various wedding commitments once a month since I moved;
I've spent many hours at various establishments that serve alcohol all over San Diego, including Petco Park and the homes of many friends;
I've generally enjoyed the good life.

In closing, I'd just like to say that happiness is definitely not overrated. You just can't stop believin'.

More to follow....

Mea Cupla

2009-08-07T14:10:00.002-07:00

I know, I know. It's been way too long. My sincerest apologies for the extended hiatus in posting. I swear there's a good reason for it. Well several, actually--the biggest of which is that I moved across the country and needed some time to adjust.

.............

Adjustment period over! Expect regular posting to commence after this weekend. In the meantime, here's a picture of Lady Gaga. With Kermit The Frog all over her.

Creepster.

The hands-down absolute worst travel experience of my entire life ever

2009-06-27T14:00:00.012-07:00

WARNING! Contains expletives, harsh language, and the angry rantings of a lifetime airport dweller!

So by now, you all know that my mom works for Delta Airlines and I usually fly standby. Remember last Christmas when I was whining about some past travel nightmares? Well it was all a lie. Every single last detail. I redact, recant, and re-remove everything I ever said about any of this nonsense being my worst travel experience ever. This weekend was hands-down my favorite worst time traveling on standby ever. I know my mom has worked for them for 25 years, but I have to say: Delta Airlines can kiss my shockingly white ass.

FRIDAY

6:30AM: Set out for JFK Airport with every intention of getting on overbooked 8:30 flight to San Diego.

8:30: I don't get on the flight, but my luggage does.

9:00: Mom says to try 9:30 flight to Salt Lake City and make connection there.

9:30: Flight to Salt Lake City is overbooked--the Mormons don't want me, either.

9:35: Set out for La Guardia Airport with every intention of getting on overbooked flight(s) to Atlanta.

10:50: 10:55 Flight to Atlanta is oversold by 20, I am number 33 on the standby list.

10:55: I am now number 34 on the standby list.

10:56: I give up and walk to the next gate for the 11:55 flight.

11:50: Flight is oversold by 19, I am number 37 on the standby list.

11:55: Flight leaves with all standby passengers still standing by. I walk to the next gate for the 12:55 flight.

12:15PM: Wait with 200 people in a hot, overcrowded terminal with God knows how many other passengers trying to get on the 12:55 flight to Atlanta.

12:30: Mom suggests I keep waiting to get on a flight to Atlanta. I ask mom how the flights out of Atlanta to San Diego look. Mom says "not good." I ask what my chances are of even getting to Atlanta today. Mom says "not good." I ask mom how the 7:30 flight to San Diego out of JFK looks tonight. Mom says, "Overbooked by 20 with 19 standby's."

12:35: I make the executive decision that it's time to quit this bitch and go home.

1:00: Awesome Cousin picks me up at airport and we spend the day shopping and eating Chinese food.

8:30pm: Receive frantic phone call from mom that the 7:30 flight to San Diego out of JFK has been delayed to 10pm because of thunderstorms, that there are 14 seats open, and that if I rush, I can make it.

9:00: Arrive at airport and attempt to check in, only to have the kiosk tell me to see an agent. Line to see agent is 100-deep. I use Delta lingo to get agent to help me and cut line. I get dirty looks from other passengers. I don't give a damn.

9:30: Get to gate. Flight is delayed until 10:15. Look for outlet to charge my dying phone; find none.

10:15: Flight is now delayed until 11:00.

11:00: Flight is now delayed until 11:15.

11:15: Departure gate is changed to an entirely different terminal and delayed until midnight.

FUCK. MY. LIFE.

11:45: A/C is on full blast at new gate, tired children are crying, creepy air marshal is giving me the side-eye because I keep opening my suitcase to put more clothes on. I am hungry, aggravated, frustrated, and exhausted beyond words. Look for outlet to charge my dying phone; all are taken.

12 midnight: Flight is canceled.

12:01AM: I lose my shit and start to cry.

12:02-12:15: I desperately call my mother to come pick me up, but she doesn't hear the phone.

12:30: I take a $35 cab ride home.

1:00: I walk into my house and scare my mother half to death. I tell her that I'll go to work with her tomorrow at 6am and try again to get on that day's Atlanta flight(s). She says not to bother, as 3 Atlanta flights were canceled that night due to weather and all those bitches would be on the AM flights. I secretly thank God that I get to sleep for more than 5 hours and go to bed.

SATURDAY

6:22AM: I receive a frantic call from my mother that they've added a second morning flight to San Diego that has 45 empty seats, and that if I rush, I can make the 8:30am flight.

6:24: I cautiously call my awesome cousin and beg her to drive me to JFK. Because she's so awesome, she not only agrees, but gets us there in less than 20 minutes.

7:30: Arrive at JFK and warn Awesome Cousin that even though there are 45 empty seats on the extra 8:30 flight, not to leave the airport.

7:40: Attempt to check in and have the stupid kiosk tell me to see an agent AGAIN.

7:45: Call mom in a panic.

7:50: Mom tells me extra 8:30am flight to San Diego is canceled.

7:51: REALLY lose my shit and start to sob.

7:55: Mom tries in vain to calm me down and tells me to get to LaGuardia in time to try and get on 11am flight.

8:00-9:00: Awesome Cousin and I get breakfast and watch Michael Jackson videos on MTV.

9:30: Arrive at LaGuardia and have kiosk tell me to see an agent.

9:31: I smack the kiosk.

9:35: I call mom and she gets an agent to check me in manually and bring me my boarding pass. More dirty looks from other passengers. Still don't give a damn.

10:30: After waiting in the security line for an hour, I get to gate and see that I am number 42 on the standby list. Mom tells me to come upstairs to the control tower where she works and wait with her.

View from control tower

10:45-2pm: Watch flight after flight take off (literally) without the same 20-30 standby passengers still waiting to get on a flight, any flight.

2:05: Mom suggests I find another airline and buy a ticket.

2:10: Non-stop flight from JFK to San Diego on Jet Blue at 6:35 this evening is booked, hassle-free.

2:30-4:00: Go home, shower, relax, go back to airport.

4:30: Arrive at JFK, check in at the kiosk hassle-free, wait 10 hassle-free minutes in a short security line, and proceed to Jet Blue terminal, otherwise known as Heaven on Earth.

5:00: I purchase a turkey sandwich on whole wheat bread and caramel popcorn, walk 20 feet to gate, and sit at internet depot where I am currently enjoying free Wi-Fi and a plethora of outlets for my electronics.

Number of failed flights: 12
Number of hours attempting to travel: 36
Number of suitcases that left without me: 2
Number of times I will ever consider flying standby if I can afford a real ticket: ZERO.

Words cannot express...

2009-06-25T07:47:00.005-07:00

...how much you girls mean to me. For seventeen years we've cried on each other's shoulders, made each other laugh, and have been there for each other in more ways than I can count. I have never in my life met another group of women who have the history, the bond, and the love that we have for each other. Don't for a second think that I can ever forget how much you guys mean to me. Without you, I wouldn't be me.

My girls, I will love you forever!!

Packing can kiss my ass

2009-06-24T06:25:00.000-07:00

I hate packing. From hauling the suitcase up from the basement to sitting on it to close the zipper (and inevitably having to remove stuff), I despite every part of it. I know things are little different this time, since I'm packing EVERYTHING I OWN. But still I've done it enough time to know that I can't stand:

Choosing a suitcase size. One would assume that factors like length of trip and weather at destination would determine what size suitcase to pack, but you know what they say about assuming. Suitcase size is actually determined by gender of traveler, how many activities (read: outfit changes) will be required, and how many shoes she has. And just when you think you can get away with nothing but your bathing suit and some flip-flops, someone mentions a boat cruise and a volcano and you've broken out the closet on wheels.
Planning what to pack. This essentially requires that you plan out all of your outfits in advance--you can't just throw a bunch of random stuff together and hope some of it matches. When I think about what to pack, my inner dialogue usually goes something like this: "I want that red top, but I need pants to match, and those shoes would go really great, but then I need something else that matches the shoes because it's silly to bring shoes that only go with one outfit, so what about that brown top, and then which pants go with it...." Repeat seventeen times.
The laundry. How many times have I put a load in the machine, continued packing, and forgotten all about the mound of clothes coming out of the dryer? Too many. Just when I think to myself, "This suitcase isn't spilling over! Score!," a ding comes from the basement and I want to throw everything out the window.
Leaving out what you need until the day you go. This is how I manage to forget either my glasses, my pajamas, my hair dryer, or my toothbrush one out of every five times I travel. Did you know hotels charge $6 for toothbrushes? Word to the wise: leave a spare one in your toiletry bag.
The mess is creates. There is nothing more annoying than tripping over an open suitcases in the middle of your bedroom floor. Or looking for something that you've already packed. Or wearing something you haven't worn since 2002 to run errands because all your "good" clothes are already packed.
Forgetting something and trying to shove it in at the last minute. I am famous for forgetting to put my toiletry bag in my suitcase until the very end, until I've arranged everything perfectly and created minimal wrinklage. And then comes this gigantic bag the size of a milk carton looking to make its way into my luggage and I have to move everything around and leave a pair of shoes behind to make room. And of course those are the ONE pair of shoes that match that red top.....
Unpacking. Be honest: how long do you usually leave your suitcase full of dirty laundry sitting in your hallway before you unpack it? Two days? Three? My stuff usually sits around so long that every article of clothing goes straight into the washing machine. Just be careful not to wash your souvenirs... broken seashells and satin nightgowns don't mix very well. Trust me.

I leave for the City of Awesome tomorrow evening and I can't wait!! I hear San Diego is German for... [5 points to the first person who answers that question correctly].

7 things I'm glad I didn't do before turning 27

2009-06-18T21:00:00.003-07:00

See #6 for explanation

Get a real job. Sure, I've been a manager at a retail store, but that was only part time. Yes I've argued in front of judges and interviewed convicted felons behind bars, but I wasn't getting paid for it. I start my first real (read: actually means something to me) job in a little over a week and I'm actually excited. I'm not sure I could've said the same three years ago.
Get married*. Or engaged. Or settle down. Or really do anything that would involve having to check someone else's social calendar before making plans, or require me to share the remote with them. There's time for that, people.
Have a kid. Boy would that put a damper on my plans to drive all over California and drink wine every weekend for the next 3 years.
Travel abroad alone. I know that for some people this a cathartic, soul-freeing experience. But I think I'd just be really lonely and upset that I didn't have anyone to share it with. I mean, when you see a hooker dressed like Cher proposition a priest on the streets of Berlin, what do you do? Take a picture? Call your best friend even though it's 4am at home? I'd much rather turn to my travel companion and make a witty remark about believing in life after love...and death.
Make a purchase more significant than my car. Who needs that kind of debt? Oh wait, I forgot that I already owe close to $100K in student loans...
Die. If I have to go early, I want to at least join the 27 Club. And definitely not from death-by-fake-ceiling-collapse.
Be preoccupied with not having done the preceding things and mope about being too old**. Life is too dang short to whine about what you haven't accomplished or where you thought you'd be. As the cliche goes: life is what happens when you're busy making other plans. TRUTH!!!

*I own this t-shirt. Not kidding.
**This picture has nothing to do with anything but awesomeness.

I'm Going Going / Back Back / To Cali Cali

2009-06-18T07:45:00.005-07:00

Guess what, internet?

No seriously, guess.

Don't give up yet, come on.

Still can't guess?

Okay one more hint.

What do all those things mean? Well, not much. Only that...

I'M MOVING TO SAN DIEGO!!

Details to follow. Stay tuned...

My summer nights are filled without outdoor cafes and air conditioned dens

2009-06-10T07:49:00.000-07:00

Remember when summer TV used to suck bigtime? All those CBS mini series about prairies, and Hallmark movies involving young people befriending old, blind ranch hands.... I mean, I get why that stuff used to be on TV (because we should've been outdoors running through sprinklers and having BBQ's with our families) but no one enjoys that kind of programming anymore.

So it's a good thing those days of crappy summer TV are OVAH!! That's right ladies and gentlemen, some of the best TV now comes on when your A/C does. Let me share with you some of my favorite post-spring/pre-fall shows.

Burn Notice. I know I've talked about this show, but it's just that good. Think MacGyver meets well-dressed metrosexual JamesBond, and there you have Michael Westen, the main character of the show. He's a government spy who's been burned, which basically means he no longer exists. They took away this identity, his cash, his contacts and dropped him in Miami, where he now solves cases for people who don't exactly want the police involved. You know how some spy shows are campy and filled with fake, overdone drama and explosions? Not this one. It's funny, it's sarcastic, and someone who works on this show must have been an actual government agent, because the stunts they pull? Just watch. The new season started last week. Thursday nights on USA at 9pm.

Royal Pains. When you're done watching Burn Notice, you'll want to stick around for the show that comes on after it. Royal Pains insn't your typical medial drama, so sir. Dr. Hank Lawson has been blacklisted from every top-tier hospital in New York for trying to save a patient. He escapes to the Hamptons with his CPA brother, and becomes the hero of the hour when he saves a sick girl at a swanky party. Word that there's a new on-call doctor in town spreads quickly, and before he knows it, Hank finds himself making house calls and moving into the guest house of a very rich German dignitary. The concept of Roayl might be a little eh, but I promise is makes up for in acting and sarcasm what it lacks in a creative premise. Here's a good line to use if you're trying to fend off money-grubbing Hamptonite bimbos: "I have no job, no money, and my Saab is older than you." Guaranteed to work every time. Thursday nights on USA at 10pm.

True Blood. I didn't read the ~~Tween Fuckery~~ Twilight books, so I have no idea how this show about vampires compares to that Edward Cullen crap. But let's just say that HBO has done it again. Set in a small town in northern Louisiana, the show centers around Sookie Stackhouse, a sweet girl who has telepathic abilities. Vampires and humans co-exists in this fictional town of Bon Temps, but not all that peacefully. There are love triangles (think human-vampire-human), drugs, sex, and a hilarious gay man who quite honestly is the best character on the show. More dramatic than Buffy, but much better than the Twilight foolery. The season 2 premiere is Sunday, June 14th on HBO. Check out season one On Demand.

Nurse Jackie. I'm sure you've seen this show advertised all over every newspaper, magazine, website and hot dog cart umbrella (not kidding: saw it in Manhattan on Monday) for the past 2 weeks. I don't know about you, but when I see a show get that much attention, it immediately turns me off. However trust me when I say, this one lives up to to the hype. The first episode features our heroic nurse (played by Edie Falco of Carmela Soprano fame) snorting drugs, having an affair, and telling a punkass doctor what's what. But despite all that nonsense, you end up loving her. Monday nights at 10:30 on Showtime.

I would of course be remiss if I didn't mention my favorite long-running summer series: Entourage (new season on HBO coming soon), Weeds (Monday night at 10 on Showtime, right before Nurse Jakie), and Dexter (also coming soon to Showtime).

Happy summer, y'all!!

Too early in the morning for this topic? Yeah, probably.

2009-06-09T04:18:00.003-07:00

Around this time last year, I was up to my eyeballs in the degrees of murder and grounds for divorce in New York. ("I don't want to be married to this douche" is apparently not one of them.) During a break from studying this ~~crap~~ really important legal stuff, I sent Liz the following email:

"For some reason, I thought of you when I came across this photo. For 2 reasons: (1) because he's hot and I thought you'd think so, too, and (2) because he's wearing bikini briefs while holding a butcher knife with a look on his face that says, "Oh. why Susan, you surprised me. What's that? You wanna know where John is? Well.. um..."

His name is Jason Mraz, he's some famous musician or something. Never heard of him. But he is damn hot."

Little did I know that I would later become obsessed this fine piece of hotness. Every song he makes, every video he puts out draws me deeper into his web of delightful sarcasm. And now I'm so tangled up that I can't escape.

So tangled, in fact, that when he recently blogged about toilet tips, all I did was smile and go, "Oooohhhh that's Just Jason Mraz being Jason Mraz. At least he's green!"

Oh, and did I mention the real reason for this post? The almost-naked picture of him? I didn't? Well shame on me!

Who knows what that tattoo on his arms says?

Hey, if Jesus said so....

2009-06-06T08:21:00.011-07:00

Six months ago today, I had my last cigarette. I'd like to congratulate myself on quitting the only habit that was guaranteed to kill me.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some republicans to speak with about gay marriage and legalizing marijuana.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Brand

2009-06-04T08:03:00.005-07:00

It's not that I want to be attracted to Russell Brand. It's not like I took one look at the dead possum on top of his head and said, "THAT is what I want to ~~run my fingers through~~ get my whole arm caught in." It's just one of those weird celebrity crushes that has nothing to do with anything, but is so outlandish and peculiar that, really, how could you NOT tell the world about your fixation on this hot mess? It's like when you fall down the subway stairs in front of 200 strangers and them email all your friends about it: it's really embarrassing and kinda hurts a little, but you had to tell someone.

Oh. My. God.

2009-06-03T20:44:00.002-07:00

There are no words. Just watch.

5 things I'm too old for

2009-06-03T07:22:00.005-07:00

I'm turning 27 in a couple of weeks, and really, I'm okay with it. I swear. My only beef with that number is that it's a little strange: you're no longer 24, and therefore can't blame your transgressions on misguided youth; but you're not 30 and no one therefore has the right to ask you when you're having kids. So what is one supposed to be doing at this age if not settling down with a mate and planning a family? If you asked me that question, I'd say, "Living your life to the fullest and being happy." That means a lot of travel, trying new things, and doing all the stuff you didn't have the time (or good sense) to do in your early 20's. Like go to a museum or not spend every weekend drunk.

While 27 is still young enough to spend the occasional night at the club, it's definitely too old (in this humble gal's opinion) for certain things:

Cheap shoes. Depending on how fortunate you were growing up, most people start to get sick of attire that falls apart after three wearings. Sure, it's worth it to spend $13 on a top at Forever 21 because, let's not lie, you'll probably try to wear it even after the elastic starts to fade. But shoes? You can't exactly safety pin them back together. And when your heel breaks while walking down the steps of a swanky club, you'll promise yourself never to buy anything from Payless ever again.
Staying out all night. I've mentioned before how I can't drink like I used to. Also how much I love my own bed. Combine those facts, and you'll come to the following conclusion: that after the party, I almost always go home. (Almost.)
Prposly mispelng wrds n typing thngs like, "omg,lmao i cant believ he sed dat!" Srsly? I'm too old for that nonsense.
Driving recklessly. I remember a time when I would retaliate if someone tailgated me: I'd move out of their way, then get right behind them and get on their ass. Stupid, I know. Nowadays, I give people the thumbs up sign if they cut me off or flip me the bird. Road rage is not worth the aggravation.
Drama. There comes a point in an adult's life when they have to start dealing with shit in a mature way. That means expressing your thoughts and emotions like a rational human being, and not whining and stamping your feet to get your way. Tantrums aren't cute when you're almost 30, and neither are staged acts of attention. In fact, they're embarrassingly transparent and extremely unattractive. If you've resorted to snooping through someone's drawers or humiliating them in public (or worse yet, putting up with that garbage) then it's time to check yourself and your relationships. Self-respect, people! You all deserve it and are capable of having it!!

One thing I will never be too old for, however, is a personal sense of style. Don't let anyone tell you that just because you turn 40 you have to cut your hair, or that men over 35 shouldn't wear Chuck Taylors. There's a huge difference between inappropriate and unique.

He knows me too well

2009-05-31T23:17:00.000-07:00

Steve: I've got the utmost faith in your ability to do whatever it takes to get constant access to lobster tacos

Awkward

2009-05-31T17:37:00.005-07:00

Me: Speaking of dreams, I had one about Mike Rowe last night.
My mother: Haha, really? Was he doing one of his dirty jobs?
Me: Well.... um.... actually.....in a manner of speaking, I guess you could say he was.
My mother: Huh? Pause. Oooohhhh......

Why do I hear Sarah McLachlan singing "It's a long way down" in my head?

2009-05-29T08:16:00.002-07:00

My dad has a very similar picture of himself. And I wonder where I get my adventurous side from...

Summer is fast approaching (although you wouldn't know it here in New York, where it goes down to 47 degrees every night) and it has me thinking about all the fun outdoor activities that come with it. Here are a few I would like to someday partake in:

Learn how to play golf. I dated a guy who relished in teaching me proper swings and grips, and I was all about it--I even went to the driving range and I LOVED it. If I can ever afford lessons, I'm doing it.
Hike a mountain taller than 2,000 ft.
Go camping for more than one night, and without the car in walking distance.
Learn how to dive. I can swim like a fish, but I never learned how to properly dive into the water. Seriously, I look spastic.
Go whitewater rafting. I used to be against this activity. Mostly because I couldn't possibly fathom how wearing a life vest the size of a maternity belly while being jostled around and thrown out of a plastic raft into ice-cold water lined with giant, protruding rocks could be at all fun. But then I talked to someone who'd actually done it and he said it's not that bad. And since this person is related to me, I trust him.....somewhat.

And here are a few activities I have absolutely no interest in doing. Ever.

Kayaking. I'm informally known as the clumsiest person this side of the East River, so I'm thinking that an activity centered mostly around balance and coordination is not for me. That, and I have a major fear of the kayak turning upside down and not being able to get out.
Fishing. Been there, done that. Yawn. Not for me.
Bungee jumping. I swear this has nothing to do with a fear of heights or the cord breaking. Rather, it's all about the paralyzing pain that will overtake my spine when the cord has reached its maximum stretch capacity and my body is flung upwards like a ragdoll. Ouch.
Skydiving. This one is all about a fear of heights and the parachute not opening. I'm guessing that having time to think about your impending death before it actually happens isn't a great way to go.
Paragliding. Think about this for a second. You are strapped into a man-made contraption with a wingspan of 20+ feet that has no motor, no brakes, no parachute, and no deceleration device. Your steering depends solely on your own ability to not crash into things, like trees or mountains. And should you come within mere feet of hitting an object head-on, you can't use your legs to brace yourself for impact because they're strapped into a sleeping bag-like shell and pinned behind you. No thanks. I'd sooner dive off a 20-foot cliff into running water than off a mountain attached to one of those things.

So am I officially a wuss? A pansy? A yellow-bellied coward? Even though I love riding motorcycles and jumping off boats into hundreds of feet of water and wouldn't think twice about going to any country in Africa? Think carefully now....

So have any of you guys tried one of the activities on my Never List? Was it fun? Did you almost die? Should I man up and just do it?

What I did on my San Diego vacation

2009-05-26T12:08:00.012-07:00

I played (and won) a game that sounds suspiciously like a very naughty word.

I met the Mole.

I went to a Padres game and sat in All-You-Can-Eat seats for the very first time.

I walked through Balboa Park, possibly my new favorite place on earth.

I visited Stone Brewery and had beer that tasted like banana.

I went to a dance party with the fabulous creators of Gingers is the Watchword during which a giant purple die was tossed around.

I ate at Hodad's.

I drank from the moment I got to San Diego to the morning I left for New York. And it was fantastic.

New York v. San Diego, Round 2

2009-05-26T09:45:00.006-07:00

I just got back from my yearly jaunt to the City of Awesome, and as per usual, I'm looking for apartments on Craigslist as we speak. Apartments with hardwood floors and tile countertops... apartments with backyards and palm trees on the property.... apartments that don't cost $2000/month to rent. Fear not my SoCal hippies, I will one day return to San Diego permanently, where I belong.

In celebration of this being my 201st post (God, has it been that long?) I've decided to do a followup of my very first post ever. Except this time I'll put NY up against SD in actual categories, instead of just declaring San Diego the winner. I feel it's fairer this way.

Weather: SD. Is this really a surprise? With temperatures a constant 70 degrees and sunny 362 days of the year, I don't see why anyone would ever leave. I sometimes think I would miss the change in seasons if I moved to San Diego, but then I think about all those winter days when I woke up at 6am to shovel my car out of three feet of snow, only to get it plowed back in an hour later. So yeah, I think San Diego wins this one.

Culture: NY. Only because I haven't spent enough time in SD to know otherwise. I spent a morning at Balboa Park this weekend, walking through Japanese gardens and taking pictures of Spanish architecture, and it was beautiful. But I didn't go inside any museums, so I can't really comment on them. Also, NY has several pockets of Chinatowns, Koreatowns, Little Italy, Spanish Harlem, etc. I haven't heard of any such places in SD--yet.

Food: Tie. I have yet to have a bad meal in my city of Awesome. The produce is fresh and locally grown, the fish you eat is probably caught that morning, and even the fast food is good. (Did someone say In-and-Out Burger??) New York is of course home to a million different kinds of food, and I have nothing bad to say about it. Ergo: tie.
Atmosphere: SD. Let's see.... dirty, gray streets and drab buildings, red brick apartment houses that all look the same, people pushing their way through crowds, beat up cars with music blasting from every open window, street signs that re so confusing that they practically guarantee you'll get a ticket, wet slush lining the sidewalks in the winter, foul smells emanating from them in the summer..... I'm gonna have to go ahead and give San Diego this one, if only for the fact that they have palm trees. And way more parking.

People: SD. I pulled into a gas station on my first day in San Diego just as a woman was trying to maneuver her way through some cars toward the exit. I backed up a few feet to let her through, and she stopped her car next to mine, opened her window, and yelled, "Thank you!!" while waving her hand wildly and smiling. You know what would've happened here in good ole New Douche City? I would've gotten a dirty look and a scolding about watching where I'm going. 'Nuff said.

I think it's safe to say which city has won this little contest. And it ain't the place where it's 57 degrees and raining today.

Many thanks to Liz and Nick for hosting me, and thank you to everyone else that made my trip phenomenal as usual =)

A programming note and an Asian

2009-05-20T05:37:00.006-07:00

I grew up mere steps from Flushing, Queens, the mecca of New York Asians. It's fair to say I've come into contact with a good number of them over the years in a multitude of places. (I won't name those places for fear of perpetuating a stereotype, but let's just say that they're food is delicious, their produce is fresh, and my suits always come back spotless.) But for as many Asians whom I've met over the years, not one of them was as funny as this guy. Or cute. Come on, you know he's cute.

So. That takes care of the funny video for the day. Onto more pressing matters. Like the fact that I'm leaving for San Diego this afternoon!! If y'all don't know, I heart San Diego with the passion of a thousand suns. You can read all about my love for the City of Awesome here and here. Because I'll be away for a few days, posting will likely be light. Stories and pictures upon my return, I promise.

Whatever you're doing, I wish you a fun Memorial Day weekend. Be safe, eat hot dogs, and wear sunscreen. I'll be here:

Maybe doing this:

Gmail chat conversations: I'm so hood

2009-05-20T05:32:00.003-07:00

2:30 PM Steve: this is the legal secretary one?

me: i prefer legal assistant

::brushing my shoulder off::

2:31 PM Steve: did you pop your collar too?me: while leaning back

Steve: nice

Getting Older: Weekends then and now

2009-05-18T09:30:00.006-07:00

When I was 23 and realized that the world didn't revolve around my shitty ex-boyfriend, a typical weekend might have gone something like this:

Thursday (because weekends start on Thursday when you're 23): Law school drinking night at whatever local bar you've chosen for that night. $2 beers + $1 shots + outdoor smoking area + witty Civil Procedure banter = a night on someone's couch or floor and a wicked hangover for Friday morning classes.

Friday: Choice of (a) date night with whomever you happen to be casually dating at the time. Dinner, drinks, perhaps a sleepover, perhaps a just-under-the-legal-limit drive home. Or option (b) date night with the girls. A bottle of wine, the hottest gossip, sometimes a movie on DVD.

Saturday: Wake up at a ridiculously late hour, lay around all day in your pajamas and do absolutely nothing as you recover from the night before. Swear you'll never drink again. Go out and buy a sexy top for that night. Call your friends and figure out where you're going: Copacabana on the West Side, Spy on 20th street, maybe a lounge in the Meatpacking District with law school friends, perhaps Sutton Place on the East side for a birthday party, maybe a seedy bar called Revolver waaaaaay down on the LES. You never know where, but you always come home late, sloppy, and with a few numbers programmed into your phone that you'll likely never call.

Sunday: A bacon-egg-and-cheese sandwich on the way to the library, or a lazy day at home spent piecing together the events of last night. Did you really get up on that table and dance to "The Sweater Song" by Weezer? Did you really drunk dial your ex boyfriend and tell him you wanted to come over? Maybe some shopping after you vow for the 19th time that day to never drink again, maybe a family dinner during which your relatives smirk at the bags under your eyes and go, "One day, my dear. One day you'll get a real job and have responsibilities and stop all this nonsense." Roll your eyes and promise you'll always have this much fun.

When you're 27, your weekends look more like this:

Thursday: Grey's Anatomy/The Office/30 Rock/whatever Thursday night TV you usually watch. Some chips and salsa and off to bed.

Friday: Maybe a movie (if it's the BIG movie you've been dying to see, like the new James Bond or Star Wreck flick that must be seen that night). Maybe a bottle of wine with the girls at someone's apartment, perhaps dinner with them if you can finally get everyone together. You always leave by 11 and are home before midnight because you're soooo tired.

Saturday: Wake up with a headache from the 2 glasses of wine you had with dinner the night before. Clean the apartment, run the errands you were avoiding all week, shuttle Aunt so-and-so to her sister's house like you promised, maybe help a friend tear out a bathroom. Decline a lunch invitation because you have to get your eyebrows waxed and drop off those papers at your mom's house that you promised you'd take care of last week. Take a nap. Contemplate what to do that night, and decide last night was fun enough, you'll just order in and watch a movie.

Sunday: Respond to the 5 bridal/baby shower/wedding invitations sitting on your kitchen table. Go to three stores to buy two gifts. Call your friends and gossip about the bride/mother's choice of stemware/Diaper Genie. Contemplate getting the gifts professionally gift wrapped or doing it yourself. Call several venues to plan the next shower that you're in charge of. Call other bridesmaids and get opinions. Vow never to get married. Eat a healthy lunch with friends, but only if you haven't seen them in the previous three weeks. Go see the new baby/house/basement. Rush home for Desperate Housewives/Breaking Bad. Vow to get more done/get together with long-lost friends next weekend. Sigh while thinking about all the things you have to do this week. Go to bed and dream about winning the lottery so you can quit your stupid job and move to the beach.

Things I don't need to know about you via Facebook

2009-05-15T16:06:00.001-07:00

What you had for lunch today, unless it made you sick and I had the same thing.
The mildly entertaining thing your kid did today. Sorry, I'm just not there yet.
That your mom/boyfriend/neighbor/professor is "soooooo annoyingggg" without further explanation. Tell the story, people.
That you're on your way to work, from work, to the store, or to the bathroom. No one is interested in your specific whereabouts at that exact moment in time, I promise you. (Although exceptions will be made for posts from the bathroom.... that's just gangster.)
How many more days until you leave for Vegas/Miami/South America/any place warm and spectacular when it's 30 degrees and snowing outside in my neck of the woods.
That you had a horrible day and want to be left alone. To me, that screams "attention whore" and that you want someone to ask you what's wrong. If that's the case, call a friend or hug a puppy.
The condition of your bowels. Not even if you're my friend in real life, not even if it's life-threatening.
Anything remotely related to your sex life. TMI to the tenth power.

What kind of Facebook updates bother you? Do you have that one "friend" who updates their status so much that you have to remove them from your news feed? (I do. So don't feel bad.)

STILL NOT FOUND

2009-05-14T10:01:00.001-07:00

I'm not even gonna give an introductory sentence. Let's get to it.

So obviously the biggest part of last night's LOST extravaganza was Jacob. But before I get into actual show-related talk, I'd just like to say that I spent the entire two hours of the finale thinking Jacob was Takezo Kensei from Heroes. (Turns out he's not.) Anyway, Jacob spins yarn inside a giant statue and summons a slave ship (which I presume to be the Black Rock) to the island in the 1800's. The dude hanging out with him on the beach tells Jacob he wants to kill him and that someday he'll find a loophole and do it. Flashforward to 2007 when John Locke (or someone who looks like him) wants Ben to kill Jacob. Jacob tells not-Locke that he's found his loophole and Ben (who gave an Emmy-worthy performance) stabs Jacob. Meanwhile, Ilana asks Ricardus what lies in the shadow of the statue, to which Richard answers (in Latin, of course), "He who will protect/save us all."

Okay, the first question that needs to be addressed is who is the dude on the beach and why does he want Jacob dead? What happened all those years ago that caused these two to become frienemies? The possibilities are endless, so I won't even begin to ponder the answer to this question.

Next, how did this dude take over Locke's body? Have there been two Lockes this whole time? Has not-Locke been responsible for some of the crazy stuff that Locke has done in the past, like shoot, stab, kill, generally act creepy? It would definitely explain Locke's strange connection to the island, why he thwarted all attempts at being rescued, why he blew up several Dharma stations. But WHY would not-Locke do all those things? What purpose would they serve in his plight against Jacob? This would definitely be an interesting plot twist--to find out that this Jacob/not-Locke war has been going on the whole time the Losties have been on the island. Imagine we find out that everything we thought Jack and Sawyer and Locke and Dharma were responsible for, it was really some greater force?

Next, what is this loophole that Jacob speaks of? Obviosly not-Locke can't kill Jacob, the same way that Locke (or not-Locke) couldn't kill his father back in Season 3. Back then, he got Sawyer to kill the dude, the same way he's getting Ben to kill Jacob. But he had no problem stabbing Naomi in the back last leason. So clearly the loophole is not-Locke getting someone else to do his murdering for him. But why? What's the significance of that? Why can't he kill?

Next, what's up with Jacob touching (literally) all of the main characters at some point in their lives? Saving Kate from her shoplifting debut, lending Sawyer a pen at his parents' funeral, creepily approaching Locke after he fell out of an 8-story window, telling Sun and Jin to cherish the time they have together, talking to Jack after surgery, and preaching to Hurley about free will... I don't get it. And where does Ilana fit in? Why was she chosen? (And was she speaking Russian? Turkish? Czech?) We knew from the very beginning that most of the people on flight 815 were connected somehow, were brought together by a force much greater than someone dying or avoiding a murder charge. That force is obviously Jacob, but why? That is still the great big mystery of the Island--what is its deal and why did it/Jacob choose these particular people to come to it?

So what lies in the shadow of the statue? The dude who will save us. And who is that? Well, it could be Jacob. It could also be not-Locke. Or dead Locke. Or Richard. Or Ben. Or Ilana. It could be Vincent the dog for all we know. There are so many things lying in the shadow of that damn statue that we really have no idea who will save us. Maybe Jack & Co. will somehow be transported to that very place and time after the blast and HE will be the one who saves us. Who knows. All I'm sure of is that it either (a) really was Jacob, and now Ben/not-Locke killed him, causing some kind of rift in the universe that has unspeakable consequences, or (b) it never was Jacob, but one of the other 19 possibilities.

Next, I'd like to talk about Juliet and her crazyface. First she's in love with Sawyer and is all happy to leave the island with him. Then Kate strolls down the ladder and she gives her the "Not this bitch again" look, after which Kate convinces her to get off the sub and save Jack? WHAT?! Why on God's green earth would she want to help Kate and go BACK to the island? Okay, so fine. She decides, for whatever reason, to go stop Jack from detonating the H-bomb. Then she sees Sawyer look at Kate all "you're the one I want to live in a hut with for the rest of my life" and decides to now HELP Jack blow them all away. Because if it works and she never met Sawyer, she wouldn't have to deal with breaking up with him. Huh? Bitch, have you lost your mind?! I don't buy this "I changed my mind" bull for one second. Something didn't sit well with me when she fell down the hole and tried hard to make the bomb explode. Something is up with her, and it's not Sawyer.

Some other things worth mentioning:

Rose and Bernard made their triumphant return with Vincent the dog. The way they were truly disappointed to see Sawyer and company made me laugh out loud. "It's always something with you people." So true, Rose. So true.
STILL no Claire. Why hasn't Claire resurfaced? Where is she? I need to know.
What was up with Sun finding Charlie's DriveShaft ring? That must hold some signifance, right?
Sayid got shot!! NOT COOL.
Jack and Sawyer beat the PISS out of each other, and it was surprisingly hot. I hate fighting and bloodshed, I always turn my head when people start throwing punches on TV. But for some reason, this particular fight was kinda sexy. I was rooting for Sawyer--Jack needed to get his ass beat down like Chris Brown on Rihanna.
Juliet falling into the hole was probably the most emotional scene of the entire two hours. You could tell that Sawyer genuinely has love for her, which broke my heart a little.
What was written on that scrap of tapestry on the wall of the cabin, and why was it burned down? Who is Ilana, what's her purpose on the island?
And finally, Jacob ends the scene in the foot by saying "They're coming." Who are "they"?

That's all I got. I didn't take notes, and my brain is starting to hurt from all the thinking. I guess we'll have to wait until 2010 to get the answers to all of these questions. Which means I'll have to find another show to start blogging about..... Any suggestions?

Two things

2009-05-14T07:36:00.004-07:00

First, I love Keith Olbermann more than words can say. For the first time since Prince William, I am considering stalking a public figure in hopes of getting them to fall madly in love with me and have 10,000 of my liberal babies.

Second, I am now officially published. That article I was working on for a travel website is up, and my mother couldn't be prouder. (More proud?) Ch-ch-check it out: The Savvy Explorer dot com.

LOST post coming later today.