My boss texted me this picture of my car when she went out for lunch today. This is why she gives me USB cables and portable battery chargers for Christmas. She’s also the one who bought me a fire extinguisher after I almost burned down my apartment!
Museum day with Pammie and this clown (@ The Broad)
I went shopping for pillows, because I literally only have two in my apartment. My mom was like, what do your overnight guests use? I’m not sure who what she thinks I’m doing in LA, but my life isn’t as exciting as she thinks it is! Pammie and Shi slept over last weekend, and I didn’t have enough pillows for all of us, so my sister had to improvise with the teddy bear I got on Valentine’s Day! 😂 I made it up to her by taking them to Shake Shack twice that weekend. You’re welcome!
Unlike that one time I won the dirty diaper baby shower game by identifying 10 out of 10 melted candy bars (some without even having to smell them), my intimate relationship with candy did not give me the edge in this puzzle competition at work today.
We placed #9 out of 10 (but still #1 in your hearts!). Who needs a $2K grand prize when you get to go home with this guy???
Here’s a little video I put together of our trip. I kept it under a minute to fit the whole thing on insta, so I cut out the part where I fell down and also the part where Shi got pulled over, among other footage! Ha.
I can’t decide if the most memorable part of today was when the wedding singer dropped panties during cocktail hour, or when a wedding guest was taken away in an ambulance after one too many pot brownies ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I’ve wanted to see Radiohead live since I first heard Exit Music (For A Film) in the 9th grade. You guys, that was 20 years ago! Yikes.
I kind of expected them to stick it to LA and not sing Creep, but no Paranoid Android or Karma Police, either??? You’re killing me, Thom! OK Computer is my favorite album of theirs, so No Surprises was my favorite song of the night:
Jessie and Abe bought a legit pizza oven for their backyard and hosted their first bumble workshop pizza party of the summer this past weekend.
I’m not sure if it’s because most of my friends are in relationships, or because Jessie’s husband calls me “baby boo” sometimes LOL, but my friends are intent on finding me a baby boo of my own! They set up my bumble profile while I scarfed down breakfast pizza, chamango paletas and hell or high watermelon. I obliged them and swiped right on a few “entrepreneurs” (srsly, what do you do for a living?), but only the girl can initiate the convo within 24 hours after you’ve been matched before the connection disappears forever. Seeing that I never approach guys first and wait till the eleventh hour to do anything, this may not be the best dating app for me haha. I may need a few more bumble workshops thinly disguised as pizza parties to convince me otherwise!
I just binge watched two seasons of Casual, and I can’t believe this lady is only supposed to be five years older than me.
In her defense, I get carded all the time. Also, some dude coaching youth track at the park during lunch last week asked me if I was in high school! Sir, if you’re trying to get me to join your track team, I’m in my thirties. And more importantly, I don’t run.
My dear friend, Christine, is officially engaged! Just a year ago, we were livin’ la vida loca in Cabo, and now she’s got a baby and a fiancé! Time moves so quickly around here. It seems like only yesterday, Christine, Jessie and I were at Blind Lady talking about the crapshoot that was the three of us, and now I’m the last one standing! The only time I’ve ever felt bad about being single is when I got into a car accident this year and had to be rescued by someone else’s husband. I was standing there at the auto shop watching them lift my car up, and my best friend’s husband was there talking to the mechanic for me, and my heart sank. Partly because they told me how much it would cost to fix my alignment, but mostly because I forgot how nice it was to have someone there to help me.
The few single friends that I have are serial daters. Tinder, Bumble, OK Cupid… If there’s an app for it, they’re on it. And although I pretty much pioneered online dating 20 years ago with my first AOL boyfriend (LoL), I would still prefer to meet someone IRL. Even though most of the guys I meet in real life are assholes. My problem is that I like assholes. If Christine and that rock on her finger taught me anything, it’s that you don’t always end up with the kind of guy you’re used to being with. I definitely have a type. If they’re bearded, witty and/or an asshole, all the boxes are checked. Maybe if I go for a nice guy with a babyface who tells mediocre jokes, the outcome will be different. I guess I’ll never know since the guys my friends want to set me up with have girlfriends already! Ha.
Sabrina and I got separated on the way back from seeing her favorite 80s band at the pier. They cut off the line for the metro after she got on, and she turned around just in time to see me mouth, “I have your keysssssss!” from outside the train as it pulled away from the platform. I waited 15 minutes for the next train with these kids who were discussing the ending of Lost (that I had somehow avoided finding out for the past six years in futile hopes that I would start watching the show someday). They got on the train with me, and I missed my stop because I was too preoccupied listening to them ruin the endings of shows I’ve never seen. I got off at the next stop and tried to text Sabrina that I had to wait another 15 minutes for a westbound train, but her phone was in my bag, too! I thought she would for sure push me onto the tracks once I finally arrived at the station half an hour after she did, but she was just happy that I was okay. She even brought me pastries from Uplifters Kitchen today as a thank you for the pizza I brought for us to share at the beach!
Watching Mayer Hawthorne for free while eating a churro??? I could think of worse ways to spend my Thursday night.
I was standing next to the guy from Stepbrothers (the one who’s not Will Ferrell) while waiting to get in. I can count on one hand how many celebrities I’ve spotted since I moved to LA nearly 4 years ago. Most of the ones who live near me in Manhattan Beach are pro-athletes, so I probably just don’t recognize them (like that one time we ate at a communal table with Marshall Faulk). I’m pretty sure the tall drink of water who asked me where I got my torta bread from at Costco last week was an athlete. After directing him to the bread aisle, I asked him where the toilet paper was because I like to embarrass myself in front of hot guys, obvi. I crossed paths with him again while making my food sample rounds and died a little when he smiled at me and my bulk 30-pack of Charmin Ultra Soft Jumbo Rolls.