At Alicia’s dirty thirty last night, I realized that A) I should just automatically assume that every guy who pursues me is in a relationship (as my ongoing track record suggests) and B) maybe I shouldn’t have worn leggings. I can’t even tell you how many people grabbed my ass! I went home alone last night and I’m not gonna lie, I feel pretty good about not having to take a shame shower. I don’t care how hot you are (or how drunk I am), some guys just aren’t worth the trouble… I may have woken up this morning with dollar bills in my bra and a serious hangover, but at least I still had my dignity!
This must be how Reese Witherspoon felt in Pleasantville when she started reading books and stopped being such a whore.
Going to Chez Nous and not getting a spicy chicken melt is like going to Outback and not getting steak. Today, I did both.
My coworker’s husband brought me a fruit salad for lunch instead of my usual spicy chicken melt, and for a delicious second, I thought that the nectarine strips were fries. After work, I went to Outback for Alicia’s birthday dinner and ate grilled fish while everyone (including the 7-year-old sitting next to me) ate steak.
Happy 30th birthday to my dear friend, Gerald. You once bought me these Paul Frank pajama pants I had been eyeballing for Christmas, and I’ve never been able to wear them, because you thought I was a size smaller than I was (which was a gift in and of itself). You were the only one brave enough to teach me how to drive a stick shift, and you were patient with me even after I burned your clutch. You trusted me to watch your fish while you were deployed, and you didn’t hate me when he died. You’re the coolest navy seal I know, and wherever you are in this world, I hope that you’re safe, drinking a Monster, eating some Mike & Ike’s, and reading this wondering why you’re still friends with a person who burned your clutch and killed your fish.
I’ve made cupcakes for a few of Kristin’s parties, so she asked me to make a Hello Kitty cake for her niece’s birthday. I can make cupcakes in my sleep, but I’ve never actually baked and decorated an entire cake before. I decided to make a practice cake first, just in case I was in over my head.
Isn’t this a pretty kitty? (That’s what she said.) Too bad this cake won’t stay fresh till next weekend! I’ll have to make another one on Friday, and now I’m left with a Hello Kitty cake that I’m not going to eat… How weird would it be if I showed up at my uncle’s retirement party with this thing?
Jay has a tendency to turn his birthday into a month-long extravaganza, but this year he only subjected us to two outings (shocking!). The girls and I are notorious for disappearing during his birthday celebrations every year, and he’ll never let us forget the time we left in the middle of his party for frozen yogurt at Yogotango. Or dinner at Friday’s. Or dinner at The Spot. This year was no different.
This Irish Angel (chocolate cake layered with Bailey’s creme brulee) was totally worth the shit Jay’s going to give us for leaving The Office again this year when he sees the pictures we took of us eating at Heaven Sent Desserts on his camera ;)
I googled “happy birthday alicia” and these are the images that came up! Haha. Happy 29th birthday to my favorite Mexican. I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you today, but I hope these googled cakes will suffice until we meet again (soon, I hope). Love you mucho, cabrona ♥
Pammie, Chel, Shi, Anthony and I (the Choadorios!) hit up Pho Cali and Cups for Shi’s birthday. No matter where we are, we always end up being that table—the loudest one in the restaurant. Sorry if we’re just having more fun than you… Vietnamese noodles and cupcakes aren’t exactly fine dining, so learn to love our obnoxious infectious laughter and keep cool, my babies. My stomach hurts from all that laughing. Or maybe it was from those two cupcakes I ate. Or the breakfast burrito I had earlier… Get off me.
I know I have you guys, but—and really, I hate myself a little for saying this—but it felt really sad not to have a man in my life who cares about me. No special guy to wish me happy birthday. No goddamn soul mate. And I don’t even know if I believe in soul mates.
– Sex and The City
Up until four years ago, I had a boyfriend to wish me happy birthday every year for nearly a decade. I’ve had dates, relationships and what have you over the past few years, but no amount of smizing, hair flips or threats could make them stick around for my birthday. Maybe it’s those crazy wish lists I come up with, I don’t know. I hate how I let this one thing I don’t have affect all the things I do have. I’m so lucky to have such great friends and relatives. I received over fifty birthday greetings via text, Facebook and phone. But the truth is, everything could be going great in my life and none of it would matter if I didn’t have anyone to share it with.
This year was no different. Il Postino knew it was my birthday. He knew. He asked his sister where she was taking me for dinner that morning. I wish she wouldn’t mention me at all around him. I’m almost certain that if we didn’t have her to keep us connected, we would’ve let each other go a long time ago. I never ask for anything. All I wanted was to be acknowledged. He couldn’t even bring himself to—at the very least—leave me a Facebook message wishing me a happy birthday in the most informal way he possibly could. His complete disregard for me stings more than the leopard print body pillow his mom gave me for Christmas.
But in spite of all that, I saw him again last night. I didn’t bring up my birthday. I didn’t bring up the fact that we haven’t spoken since the meteor shower. Disappointment is an emotion I’ve gotten used to wearing around him. He never apologizes for anything, with the exception of that one time last summer—and even that felt like it was court-ordered. I live for these sort of movie moments. That’s all I have with him. Just moments. It’s the reason why I never argue with him. Because no matter how bad it gets, I always come back. So why ruin the moment? When I see him, it’s understood that we revert to the way things used to be between us… when everything was beautiful and nothing hurt, if only for one night. Or maybe I’ve misunderstood all along. Maybe these moments have been meaningless from the start.
I’ve realized that nothing will ever make him sure of me—not the fact that his family adores me, not the familiarity of my lips or the way my hand always fits perfectly in his, not the SpongeBob DVDs I gave him for Christmas that he didn’t bother to acknowledge just like my birthday, and especially not the fact that for reasons I can’t explain, I’ve always been so sure of him.
Thanks to everyone for a memorable birthday! I just wanted to keep it simple with no frills… I don’t need to celebrate my growing spinster status! Pammie, Shi and Chel treated me to Extraordinary Desserts last weekend. We tried the Chocolate Strudel, Lemon Bar, Strawberry Shortcake, Raspberry Linzer Danish, Strawberry Crumb Cake and Matcha Green Tea Lattes. Don’t judge us! The girls gave me a gift certificate for a massage at Chiropractique! I hadn’t even posted my birthday wish list yet, and they already knew what I wanted. I guess I talk about my love for massages that much! Maybe I should start talking about my love for bearded Mexicans who drink beer and watch football—oh wait, I already do ;) There’s always next year. Haha. We somehow rolled ourselves over to the theater to watch Leap Year after all that yummy dessert. I loved it, just like Il Postino told me I would. Le’sigh.
On Monday, I went to happy hour with Jay and some JCP folk. Always a good time and good laughs with these people! Jay gave me a gift certificate to Chef City so I could load up on restaurant supplies. I think that’s a hint for me to start looking for a new apartment so I can go back to hosting food nights at my place! Just like the time he gave me that cupcake cookbook… I’m sure it was more for his benefit than my own! Haha. I still love you, friend :) Anyway, I drowned myself in margaritas since I was off the next day. It was quite the nightcap—I was in bed by eleven. I’m getting so old!
I took the day off for my actual birthday. I always do, even if I have nothing planned. Having to work on your birthday is all kinds of unholy. Kind of like eating meat on Good Friday. Or going commando in another man’s fatigues. It’s just something you don’t do! Pammie had some fruit truffles delivered to my house from Edible Arrangements! Best sister EVER! The BFF, Ray and the kids took me out to dinner at Phil’s. They told one of the employees it was my birthday and she had the entire restaurant sing to me! Mortifying. At least I got a free t-shirt out of it. As if I wasn’t embarrassed enough, I sat in the front seat of Ray’s Green Machine while he bumped reggae music on the drive home. Haha… I’m kidding, Ray. I love reggae and your freakishly small car—I can’t speak for your family squished in the backseat, though. Il Postino’s mom left me a gift at the their house. She’s such a sweetheart. It was a tea collection complete with a jar of honey and an adorable beehive-shaped wooden honey-stick thing. Perfect for this gloomy weather we’ve been having!
I was in the middle of taking pictures of my favorite munchkin with my new camera when my dad texted me that I had a package at the house. Who would send me a package in the mail? And an even bigger question—since when does my dad know how to text message? I texted my sister and asked her if she sent me anything. She said she didn’t, but that I should go to the house and see what it is. I wondered if Skokie had sent me something since he asked me for my address the weekend before, but the last thing I remember him buying me was a Costco hot dog for my birthday six years ago. Haha. Not likely. I hadn’t seen the BFF since before Christmas, so I told myself I would just check it later.
Half an hour goes by and Shi texts me, “GO HOME.” The girls surprised me at my house with a “Nothing Bundt Drama” red velvet cake from Nothing Bundt Cakes! Are those bitches trying to tell me something? Haha. I love, love, love these girls.
To one of my best friends and cousins, Mayan, Happy Happy Birthday! No one else can foretell the future like you do, do graphic design like you do, attract cholos the way you do, or wear bathing suit bottoms like you do. I love you!
Is it weird that Il Postino’s mom gave me a leopard print body pillow for Christmas? How does that woman know I’ve been sleeping alone? A boyfriend arm pillow would’ve been more obvious, but I’m picking up what she’s putting down!
Between the holidays and moving, I didn’t have time to make a Christmas wish list like I usually do. My birthday is in a few days, so I’m posting one anyway! As I was making my list, this 13-year-old asks me, “Do you REALLY think your friends are gonna buy you this stuff? Most of it costs over $200!” Shut it, kid! It’s called a “wish” list. Not a “things-I-can-afford-to-buy-myself” list. I mean, seriously… what do kids learn in junior high these days? I could really use more practical stuff like gift cards to Target, Walmart, Costco or Arco… but where’s the fun in that? On to the list…
The Beatles LOVE Show – Cirque du Soleil
I’ve always said that I want someone to fly me to Vegas to watch The Beatles LOVE Show for the third time (it could never be enough) and stay the night at some fancy hotel. Can somebody make that happen already???
Deep Tissue Massage Thanks Pammie, Chel and Shi!
I’d get a massage every night if I could afford it. I’ve gotten one at The Knot Stop, but I heard Chiropractique was good, too. Or you could just give me a personal massage. No happy endings, though—it’s my birthday, not yours.
I made chocolate peanut butter cupcakes for Kristin’s birthday last night. It took me three trips to the grocery store—I don’t know where my head’s been lately. I had too much vodka fun at her birthday party. It’s a good thing my coworkers were too distracted by the leftover cupcakes I brought them to notice all that fun seeping through my pores this morning.
Sara Bareilles – “Gravity”
Something always brings me back to you
It never takes too long
No matter what I say or do
I still feel you here ’til the moment I’m gone
You hold me without touch
You keep me without chains
I never wanted anything so much
Than to drown in your love and not feel your rain
So my birthday kicks off this weekend followed by a week in Hawaii with the girls. In preparation, I’ve exercised twice a day drank several Coldbusters to make sure this cold I got over New Years doesn’t ruin my vacation. I’ve also made my pearly whites more pearly, gotten my eyebrows waxed, made an appointment for a pedicure… You know, normal girly things that girls do to make them feel nice (and make boys notice their niceness)… The rest of the girls I’m going to Hawaii with all 1up’d me and gave up carbs and exercised daily and oh, did I mention they all got motherfucking BRAZILIANS! What’s a brazilian, you ask? No, it’s not Tom Brady’s ladyfriend. Let me spell it out for you… It’s P-A-I-N. I popped a vicodin or two (or five) to ease the peroxide-induced pain of teeth whitening. I’m exaggerating zero percent. What would it take for me to numb the pain of waxing where the sun don’t shine? A fucking qualude? That’s a level of sexy I’m not ready for. Most (if not all) of my girl friends are in a relationship. Including my one lesbian friend. I’ve found that as a single girl you can go in one of two directions… You can either wax your nether regions, wear makeup just to get the mail outside and follow a strict diet to a better skinnier you. OR you can take advantage of the fact that nobody sees your legs anymore and let a day or two go by without shaving, eat all the carbs you want because sandwiches make you happier than any man ever could, and forgo the expensive perfume you used to wear for a cheaper bar of Ivory soap. I’ve elected to go the latter since my break up almost two years ago (has it really been that long?). Maybe I’ll reconsider becoming that hairless waif when I don’t enjoy having my bed all to myself anymore.
Dooney and Bourke Hayden Bag
Because everytime I buy a bag I ask myself, "Will my polaroid camera fit in here?"
And I might have a tiny girl crush on Hayden Panettiere. Price: $500.00
Available at dooney.com.
Whenever I exchange E-mails with Pammie, Chel and Shi, our conversations always revolve around the same topics: bitches, assclowns and our love for frozen yogurt. Chel and Shi have been raving about this place in SD that rivals Pinkberry, so we finally got together on Thursday night and had ourselves some fro-yo (while talking about bitches and assclowns). A great start to a pretty fuckin’ awesome weekend, I must say. We hit up Riley’s for drinks afterwards where Chel’s boyfriend was spinning and met up with some friends I haven’t hung out with in forever. The boys and I caught up over late night munchies at Denny’s and headed back to the valley for a short hookah session at E’s house before passing out at home.
When I woke up the next morning afternoon, I found out that Dino DeMilio was using the illustration I made of him as his default image on his Myspace aaaaand he credited it to mayanrocks.com! A lot of members created dollar graphics in honor of Dino and the Divide Social Club, but I wanted to put my spin on it. I drew his head in Illustrator and morphed it into an Obey homage to The Godfather. Fitting, isn’t it? I thought so. I’m honored that he put it on his Myspace. You won’t have access to their pages since they’re private, so here’s a photo of Dino, Milo and Russ of the DSC. YOWZA.
Julz and Jay’s birthday bash at Heat Supper Club was the highlight of my weekend. I’m usually anti-downtown when it comes to partying. I’d much rather chill at a dive bar than anywhere on Fifth. HOWEVER, all that was forgotten once I was introduced to bottle service. And roped off VIP booths. And microsuede walls. I pretty much had the time of my life that night… and I’ve got 500 pictures to prove it (cut down to a little more than half that after I deleted all the drunken, blurry pictures of nothing). Too bad I’m not in any of them since I was the drunkie snapping away all paparazzi status. I guess you’re just gonna have to take my word for it.
We continued Julz’s birthday celebration at Morena Club on Saturday night. It was pretty low key… Just our group of friends celebrating on familiar territory. Julz threw up, of course, but he surprisingly wasn’t tied up this year! Not yet, anyway (maybe in Vegas this weekend). We ate breakfast at Tyler’s afterwards and went home to rest up for our softball game on Sunday. I wasn’t planning on playing, since I had work later that afternoon, but they needed a catcher. I was wearing a jean skirt and flips flops, so I was the obvious choice. I was just there to get my tan on before work! I told them I didn’t like balls flying at my face, but I ended up playing anyway. I always find myself in Eastlake on days that Chick-Fil-A is closed. It’s probably for the best.
So I can’t wait till this weekend. Having limited time with my friends lately has made me miss them.
I’ll probably be bitching about them when I come home from Vegas.
My birthday’s officially over. Thanks to everyone who called today and came out to celebrate with me over the weekend :) Today, I had dinner at Onami’s with my dad, sister, Edgar and Jed. We came back to my house afterwards and made smoothies with my new Smoothie Pro600 (thanks, Pammie!). Now I can make the defunct Pineappalooza smoothie from Jamba Juice (damn seasonal drink)!!! I need to start eating healthier and actually USE the 24-Hour Fitness membership (you can’t lose weight by just SIGNING UP, though I used to be convinced that you could). I want a smokin’ body by the time summer arrives and Pineappaloozas are back in season!