Born Marion. Nicknamed Mayan. Graphic Designer.
SD native living in LA.
Young the Giant addict.
If you don't know who that
is, then we are wasting our
time here.
I do try. I’m the one that never calls too often and acts like it’s no sweat. I’m the one that stays busy, a blip here and then there. You won’t find me anywhere too long beyond what is welcome. Right?
Truth is that I am uncool. Goofy when it’s harmless. Frightening when I lose footing. I’m terrified of being seen with my love hanging out.
I know. I’m fooling no one but myself. Everybody knows. Now. I got caught loving, longing, dancing well after the music stopped.
STEFAN: How does anyone ever seem to move on? CAROLINE: I think that someday, you’ll meet someone new, and you’ll fall madly in love, and you’ll have moved on without even realizing it.
You have nothing. You have a pile of secrets and lies, and you’re calling it love. And in the meantime, you’re letting your whole life pass you by while they raise children, and celebrate anniversaries, and grow old together. You’re frozen in time. You’re holding your breath. You’re a statue waiting for something that’s never going to happen. Living for stolen moments… you keep telling yourself they all add up to something real, because in your mind they have to, but they don’t. They won’t. They never will, because stolen moments aren’t a life. So you have nothing. You have no one.
9:30 in the morning might seem a bit early to chalk this day up as a loss, but I’m going to do it anyway. This does not bode well for my weekly weigh-in tomorrow.
OLIVIA: I wait for you. I watch for you. My whole life is you. I can’t breathe because I’m waiting for you. You own me, you control me, I belong to you…
FITZ:You own me! You control me. I belong to you. You think I don’t want to be a better man? You think that I don’t want to dedicate myself to my marriage? You don’t think I want to be honorable? To be the man you voted for? I love you. I’m in love with you. You’re the love of my life. My every feeling is controlled by the look on your face. I can’t breathe without you. I can’t sleep without you. I wait for you, I watch for you. I exist for you. If I could escape all of this and run away with you? There’s no Sally and Thomas here. You’re nobody’s victim, Liv. I belong to you. We’re in this together.
…
I stayed home from work for a couple of days this week… partly because I have the flu, but mostly because I wanted to catch up on Scandal!
I may be a little late to this party, but how awesome is this show???
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I baked this chocolate babka over the weekend, and it tasted exactly like the chocolate strudel from Extraordinary Desserts! Even with my new stand mixer, food processor, and Pammie’s forearms, it took hours to make. I’m pretty sure time started moving backwards as I waited for this shit to rise (twice!). I literally pulled them out of the oven at 2am and was too tired to have my way with it till morning.
Here’s Martha Stewart’s recipe if you have two pounds of chocolate and five sticks of butter laying around. This recipe yields three loaves, so I think you should make some and share it with your neighbors. Especially if you live near me.
When I went to my sister’s house in the OC to watch The Walking Dead premiere, I didn’t really think about having to drive an hour back home by myself. Or going home to an empty house past midnight… Yikes!
After waking up every day at an unholy hour, driving upwards of 2 hours each way, putting 550 miles on my car, and paying $46 in toll fees to commute back and forth between my sister’s place in the OC and my job in Manhattan Beach, I’ve finally moved into my new place in Redondo Beach! I couldn’t be happier that I’m only 2 streets away from my work now.
When I found this steal on Craigslist and submitted my rental application, the landlord who lives upstairs mentioned that he loves Filipino food and has never met a Filipino he didn’t like. I mean… if he only leased the bottom floor of his townhouse to me because he thinks I know how to cook Filipino food, then he’s in for 3 months of disappointment!
Everything happened so fast with the move that I didn’t have time to think about it. I’m so much happier at my new job, but I miss my friends. I miss my family. I miss my dog. Le’sigh.
Chatting with you is the only thing I’m going to miss about work! It puts a smile on my face when you send me nick@nite texts and pictures of your 22″ hot dog, so try not to forget about me after I blow this popsicle stand!
ROBIN: She’s got you on the hook. TED: What? I’m not on the hook. ROBIN: Ted, “right now” is the classic on-the-hook catchphrase. MARSHALL: Yup. “Right now” paints a picture of some sort of magical future time when everything will work out, but the truth is, that will never happen. ROBIN: You like having Henrietta around for the same reason that Tiffany likes having you around—it’s a nice little ego boost. She’s stringing you along. She’s not committing to you, but she’s keeping you around just in case, like an old can of chili in the pantry.
Um, who’s buying canned chili and not eating it immediately???
I can barely move my arms after working out with Jesse. I have blisters on my feet from yesterday’s hike with Shi. And while I wore pants, a long-sleeved shirt and a hat to protect my skin, the small area of my chest that was exposed got sunburned.
That 4-hour hike up Mount Woodson was brutal, but I somehow made it to the top and back down again with a little determination and a lot of blood in my shoes.
I was roped into participating in an office juice cleanse. I wasn’t sure what to expect, and it kind of feels like the first day of school. Minus the fact that you get to eat solid foods that day. I’m pretty sure we’re all going to hate each other by EOD.
Most nights before I go to bed, I will lay six strips of bacon out on my George Foreman grill. Then I go to sleep. When I wake up, I plug in the grill. I go back to sleep again. Then I wake up to the smell of crackling bacon. It is delicious, it’s good for me, it’s the perfect way to start the day. Today I got up, I stepped onto the grill, and it clamped down on my foot… that’s it. I don’t see what’s so hard to believe about that.
When I woke up to the smell of bacon this morning, I was thrilled—until I realized it was the smell of my thigh burning.
I fell asleep with my laptop on my bed last night, and Macbook Pros are notorious for running ridiculously hot. But since I’m a heavy sleeper who needs three alarms to wake up, I didn’t even flinch when the power adapter came in contact with my bare thigh and gave me a crazy second-degree burn! It’s pretty gnarly, and I can’t wear pants for the next week or so.