Pammie, Shi, Anthony and I went to Chel’s house last night to help her with wedding stuff. Chel asked me to design her wedding invitations, and I couldn’t be more honored :) She has 300 guests and is trying to keep the wedding costs down. It’s a good thing I work for lychee sake and tator tots.
The Cake Boss asked me to go out to some bar my friends were spinning at, McLovin’ texted me at an unholy hour, and I even had a brief exchange with Il Postino last night. When it rains, it pours I guess. There’s no where in the world I’d rather be than with these crazy bitches, though. God forbid I miss conversations like this…
Anthony: I was texting Chel about your website, and she got really annoyed because I kept calling it your “page”…
Chel: It’s called a blog. Stop calling it that.
Anthony: Whatever, I’ll call it her pagina if I want to.
Chel: Oh, is that what you were calling it? Page in spanish? All this time I thought you were texting me pagina. Like vagina with a p!
Le’sigh… Never a dull moment :)
(image via ffffound)
After a week of kickboxing, salsa dancing, and sweating my ass off (literally) everyday after work, I treated myself out to dinner at Banbu Sushi with the BFF and Ray. The wait was an hour long and the parking lot was ridiculously tiny, so I had to park down the street. Maybe I should have made reservations. And not worn high heels. I may be biased from eating nothing but Lean Cuisines all week, but the food was so, so good! I can’t believe I lived up the street from this place all last year and never tried it. It was San Diego Restaurant Week, so we got three courses for just $20. All of the specials came with edamame and your choice of soup or salad. We all chose onion soup, since none of us were planning on making out after dinner. For the appetizer, Ray and I got the Banbu Bites—shiitaki mushrooms stuffed with crab, spicy sesame ahi, and surrounded by tempura (pictured above). I can’t even explain how delicious they were. By far, the best thing I ate last night. Alicia got the Calamari Salad, which was deep fried calamari on top of baby greens and seaweed. It was good, but def not as good as our Banbu Bites! They were really busy last night, but Ray had already finished his beer before they brought out my Strawberry Mojito that I had to remind them about. The service wasn’t that great, but the food made up for it. She brought out mine and Ray’s main courses next. I got the Tangerine Shrimp with Sweet Chili Sauce and Ray got the Short Rib Ramen. Ray and I kept making these orgasmic sounds that you only make when you’re eating something really good! Haha. I wasn’t expecting such large portions, but it was a good amount of food. We were halfway done with our main courses before they brought out Alicia’s food, and all she ordered was the 10-Piece Sushi Combo. I’m not sure what took so long, since they didn’t even have to cook it! I think the waitress kept forgetting about us. The sushi was slathered in some wasabi/horseradish sauce and Alicia’s mouth was on fire. I’ve never been to a place where the sushi came with wasabi already inside of it, but Alicia ate what she could. They brought out dessert next. Ray got the Chocolate Lava Cake with Vanilla Gelato. The cake was too rich for me, but the gelato was good. Alicia chose the Mochi Ice Cream in red bean, green tea and vanilla. I didn’t try it, but I’ve had mochi before and I love it. She said the red bean was the best flavor. I got the Mango Crème Brulée with Tropical Compote. Other than forgetting to brûlez the crème, that part of the dessert was really good. I didn’t like the compote because there was ginger in it. Yuck. I hate ginger. But I love gingerbread cookies. And ginger ale. Is that weird? Anyway, I ended up paying $40 with tax, tip and mojito. So much for spending $20! The courses I picked were definitely worth it, though. I would go back just for the Banbu Bites alone.
Jesse: You’re such a dork
mayanrocks: says the guy with the cheese wax pyramid on his desk!
Jesse: Hey, that’s artistry you philistine!
Jesse: I need to buy more yellow Babybels to accent the sides
Jesse: God, I’m such a dork
I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism.
My very first diaper cake!
The Cake Boss said that he pictures me living in South Park. Apparently, it’s where hipsters go to get married and have dogs. So what he’s saying is… he thinks I’m hip, he wants to marry me, and possibly raise an English bulldog together. Did anyone else get that???
This is only my second time apartment-hunting. Last year, Pammie told me, “Whatever you do, don’t sign anything.” And what did I do? First apartment I saw, I signed a lease. It was like that one time she said, “Whatever you do, don’t close the garage.” And what did I do? I walked straight to the garage, hit the garage door opener, and closed the garage on her car. It’s like I heard everything but the “don’t” part. Anyway, I was locked into a year lease with a beautiful apartment that cost entirely too much money. I knew people renting 2-bedrooms for cheaper than what I was paying for my single. There were times when I would make spaghetti and eat it for five days straight—I’m exaggerating zero percent. It was like I was in Café World and I had whipped up too many servings, except there were no café points earned from eating all that spaghetti—just carbs. I’m on Craiglist everyday, and I’ve learned that listings with the words “charming,” “section 8 approved,” and/or “drive by first and then call” are generally no bueno. Finding a nice, cheap apartment in SD is hard these days. I guess it doesn’t help that I’m partial to granite countertops, crown moulding, stainless steel appliances and hardwood floors. Hey, I can’t help it if my modern espresso furniture refuses to coexist with wall-to-wall carpeting.
Okay so my friend just totally had a baby. She didn’t even know she was pregnant! She had back pain and went to the ER, and they told her that there was a baby inside her causing all that pain! WTF? There’s an entire show dedicated to this sort of thing on the Discovery Channel. It’s like one of those things that you think will never happen to you or anyone you know. I feel like I would just know if I was pregnant. Like how do you not know? Wouldn’t you feel it? Except this one time, I was lounging around our hotel room in Vegas, and I didn’t notice that my right boob had fallen out of my dress when I got up to get more wine. It was like a scene out of The 40-Year-Old Virgin, sans the speed dating. I was walking around and Marisa was like, “Your boob! Your boooob!” You’d think that I’d notice with the breeze and everything, but I didn’t. Hmm… Maybe I should get my babymaker checked to make sure there’s no Mexican hiding in there.
Six years have passed, but you are not forgotten ♥
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.
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.
And so the universe decided to kick us while we’re down and make it rain the whole week.
I love you, Mark Sanchez, but my San Diego Chargers are gonna kick your beautiful ass today. BOLTS, BABY!
We all fall for them. Pricks are spontaneous, unpredictable and fun—and then we’re surprised when they turn out to be pricks.
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!
It’s just how we roll =)
No one knows my heart like you do, love! Happy Birthday Mayan! Love you!
Man, I was thinking about unrequited love. I figure it’s best to just walk that shit off. Find someone else to be excited about. It’s like if you love ice cream but your ice cream man friend won’t give you any. Maybe he’s got a good reason. It cuts into profits. Who knows? But he likes you as a friend and wants to hang out anyway. It drives you crazy to hang out with that dude, even if he’s being reasonable from his point of view. So don’t hang out with him. What, you ONLY like ice cream? It’s ice cream or nothing? Don’t be an asshole. Learn to love donuts.
Anthony: So I was talking to this guy I know who went to your high school…
mayanrocks: What’s his name?
Anthony: He’s just some Mexican guy. Anyway, I asked him if he knew you and he said no, so I asked him if he knew Pam and he said that he did. I told him that you were Pam’s sister and he said, "Wait… Does Pam’s sister have really big boobs?"
mayanrocks: Seriously WTF! Who is he?
Anthony: You don’t need to know his name. Just know that you have really big boobs.
Because I didn’t know that before??? Thanks for nothing, Antho. I love that people don’t remember my name, but they remember my breasts. Eyes up, boys.
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 Kate Laptop Bag (Black)
According to Shi, I don’t be knowin’ about protection! I need to stop throwing my MacBook Pro around.
- KitchenAid 5-Quart Artisan™ Stand Mixer (Onyx Black)
I’m pretty sure I bake enough cupcakes to warrant a $300 stand mixer.
- Coach Soho Patent Satchel Handbag (Silver/Purple)
I wanted this bag years ago, but I don’t think they make it anymore. I recently saw it again on eBay.
Canon PowerShot SD780 (Black)Thanks, Pammie!
I lost my digital camera in the Great Purse Disaster of 2005 and it has never been replaced.
- Pinzon Sheet Set (Plum/Queen)
They match my gorgeous Simply Vera Wang City Night Comforter Set.
- Coach Madison Op Art Sateen Wristlet (Silver/Black)
My mom always says I’d lose my vagina if it wasn’t attached to my body. A purse is no different.
- Bose SoundDock (Black)
I listen to my “Karaoke” playlist everytime I shower, and it’s probably not a good idea to have my laptop in the bathroom with all that steam.
- The Beatles: Rock Band (Wii)
I’ve been listening to The Beatles since I was in the womb and I can rock the mic’ to any of their songs!
- 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???
- Wilton Cake Decorating Class at Michael’s
It’s hard to believe, but my cupcakes could get cuter.
- San Diego Restaurant Week (Dinner)
I’m all about yummy food with good friends. Or with yummy boys. Whatevs.
Deep Tissue MassageThanks 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 had dinner and drinks at Benihana last night with Frank, Jay, Liz, Josie and Nancy. The food was SO good and the company even better. I couldn’t stop laughing with Josie over there talking about vagina wigs and Frank telling me how I should eat a cherry tomato. LOL. One Passionate Pearls martini, two glasses of Benihana punch and three sake shots later, I was too drunk to realize how much this fun was costing me. Haha. It was worth it. More pictures here.
I have six months to
find a date fit into my bridesmaid dress for Chel and Flex’s wedding. A dress that I purposely ordered three sizes too small. It’s only day one of my diet and I’m miserable. Probably from all the food I didn’t eat. And all the Coke I didn’t drink. And the migraine I’ve had since I got home from work. I’ll have to keep reminding myself that “nothing tastes as good as thin feels” whenever I get the sudden urge to sit around and eat sticks of butter from different lands. It’s gonna be a long six months.
You don’t alter Vera Wang to fit you. You alter yourself to fit Vera.