Did I mention how much I love the Winter Olympics???
For some people, love doesn’t exist unless you acknowledge it in front of other people.
Another 3am text message from Il Postino this weekend. It’s always back and forth with us. He drunk messages me one weekend. I do it the next. He does it again, but this time he’s just trying to be funny—”trying” being the operative word here. I know he’s mocking my drunken text from the weekend before, so I tell him he’s lucky I’m awake at that unholy hour. And then I remember that I purposely ignored his messages on Valentine’s Day, so he thinks things are okay between us now that I’ve broken my silence. Every time I get off this carousel, I just get back on again, spinning around and around knowing this ride always makes me sick.
I was really dreading this past weekend, but it actually wasn’t half bad :) On Friday, Shi, Ella, Sha and I did what any other masochistic group of single girls would do on Valentine’s Day weekend—we watched Dear John (aka Sobfest 2010). Christine gave it half a thumb, but I actually liked it! I cried throughout the entire movie. It definitely didn’t touch The Notebook, but I’d recommend at least renting it when it’s released (if only to see Channing Tatum running around half naked).
I drowned my sorrows at The Local with the girls and Antonio Saturday night. Fifty dollars, six cranberry vodkas, two slices of New York pizza, and one drunken text to the ex later (yikes), I called it a night at four in the morning.
I woke up on Sunday with a hangover and a text back from Il Postino. I didn’t get back to him—he drunk messaged me three times the weekend before, so I thought I didn’t have to explain myself. The girls all texted me to make sure that I wasn’t going to throw myself off a bridge before spending the day with their significant others, and I even got a V-Day greeting from the Cake Boss (which I also ignored). Shi invited me to brunch, but I felt too sick to eat anything at that ungodly hour. I spent the majority of my day designing Chel’s wedding invitation while watching Lifetime’s Lovers Lane Movie Marathon (don’t judge me). Sitting through all 120 minutes of Flirting with Forty was worth discovering Robert Buckley. Hot damn. I don’t usually like blondes, but I’ll make an exception for this one.
Il Postino texted me after midnight—and after he had gotten home from his Valentine’s date, I’m sure—saying thanks for (not) returning the drunken text and he hoped I had a great Valentine’s Day. Number one… how dare you? And number two… don’t call me past 11pm. It was late, and I didn’t think it was a good idea to respond, so I didn’t. I like how we only talk to each other when we’re intoxicated and/or at an indecent hour. Don’t make me that girl that you only call after midnight—especially not on Valentine’s Day. And especially not when I used to be that girl you’d take roller skating on a random Tuesday before the street lights came on.
I would just like to be involved with someone who values me enough to call me at a respectable hour… someone who would maybe take me to Birch Aquarium to look at moon jellies, grab some dinner afterwards (nothing fancy), and maybe share a Churros Con Chocolate cupcake from Cups. Or even a churro from Costco would be fine by me. You know, I don’t ask for much (and I also don’t get much, either… go figure).
On Monday, Chel, Shi and I had a three hour sesh at Tap Ex. We always find time for each other. These girls are my heart. They make me realize that I’m better off without these jerkoffs I keep involving myself with. And they completely understand when I blow them off to watch meteor showers with the same jerkoffs ♥
Chel surprised me at work with these homemade strawberry nutella cupcakes. Sweet, huh? :) Thanks for making my day, babe ♥
In my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person is still going to think the sun shines out your ass. That’s the kind of person that’s worth sticking with.
(image via someecards)
I came home from the gym this morning to this chocolate covered strawberry bouquet sent from my sister and her fiancé. I smell sabotage… sweet, sweet sabotage. I didn’t work out every day this week and pull three two-a-days to indulge in dessert—I did it so I could drink my sorrows away tonight with my single friends. My sister is so thoughtful, though :) She knows how much I hate this godforsaken holiday.
A food analogy if you will, it’s like a redneck preferring a sloppy joe to a fine cut of filet mignon—he’s too uncouth to appreciate you.
Radiohead – “Fake Plastic Trees”
And it wears me out
It wears me out
(image via vivatregina)
|Jesse: almost there…|
|mayanrocks: you all wired out?|
|Jesse: wired out?|
|mayanrocks: are you done watching your dvd set of the wire?|
|Jesse: ohhhh. im on the 3rd epsiode of the last season. i got mass effect and havent touched the dvds in the past three days lol|
|mayanrocks: you usually get me. i don’t even know who you are right now.|
|Jesse: i know seriously…im like delirious right now. i haven’t had any coffee today.|
|mayanrocks: you almost done with the game?|
|Jesse: it’s like a 30-40 hr game and im only like 11 hours in so far.|
|Jesse: thats nothing, the last game i got back in november, dragon age… thats like a 40 hr game at its shortest and ive logged in 100 hrs between my two characters. lol jesus im such a nerd.|
|mayanrocks: so… you gonna get metal legs pretty soon?|
|Jesse: i’m thinking about it… it’s a risky operation, but it’ll be worth it.|
Working with people who get my pop culture references is the only thing that helps me keep my sanity—especially on days like this when I have to finish four newsletters and three homepage banners in one week because this Monday is a holiday, and deadlines don’t care about your scheduled days off (even if they’re unpaid).
I’ve been on this crazy diet and exercise regimen for the past few weeks in preparation for Chel’s wedding. I just don’t want to be scrambling to lose three dress sizes in May to fit into my bridesmaid dress. Its pleated waistline promises to hide any indiscretions (like that wing-eating contest you entered the night before or that Mexican you didn’t know was hiding in your uterus), but I thought I’d be on the safe side and pull some two-a-days at the gym. I took kickboxing and salsa dancing today. My kickboxing instructor kept yelling, “Throw those punches! Squeeze those glutes! You gotta look good for your man on Valentine’s Day!” And I’m thinking, the only man who’s gonna see me naked on Valentine’s Day is my masseur at Chiropractique! Boo whore. At least someone’s hands will be on me that day…
I’ve had a rough
day week month… Please be kind to me, 2010. I don’t think I can take 325 more days like this.
Happy birthday to my heart twin, Shi. I love you like I love walking around in my chones. And when you come over, I love you enough to put on some pants.
(image via flickflickflicker)
Valentine’s Day wouldn’t be complete without torturing yourself with bad romance movies.
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.
Someone I used to know emailed me out of the blue last week. We were just teenagers when we knew each other. He was a part of my past that I thought would never come back—sort of like the tongue ring I used to have when I knew him. And the brown chola lip liner I used to wear. Yet there was his name in lowercase letters waiting for me in my inbox. He said that he looked me up online and stumbled upon my blog. I
cyberstalk google random people all the time, but I don’t think I’ve ever contacted anyone I don’t talk to anymore. I’m really horrible at keeping in touch. Before I know it, days, months, and years go by. Like January 2010, for example. I’m still in denial it ever happened. How is it February already??? Sometimes I feel like it’s too late to say anything… I’m glad people think otherwise, though. It was really nice to hear from him (and only a little bit creepy).
I was curious about what other details of my life surfaced when he looked me up online, so I googled myself. I’m quite the social networking butterfly—my Facebook, Myspace and Twitter accounts came up first. I can only handle one social network at a time, so I haven’t touched my Myspace since I joined Facebook, and my tweets are few and far between (to the dismay of @idntfd—he thinks my life is far more interesting than it really is). Nothing too embarrassing or too personal came up, though… unless you count my old Xanga page—complete with a rotating icon of me, my ex, and my aforementioned tongue ring. Yikes.
I woke up to three messages on my phone from Il Postino at two in the morning. Nothing good ever happens at that hour.
(image via thewordsalloverme)
I think I may have found a date for Valentine’s Day. So what if my “date” is a married man with three kids and two dogs? And who cares if by “Valentine’s Day” I really meant Chinese New Year (which just happens to fall on the same day)? Whatever.
Sam the Cooking Guy is having this contest where the prize is to have dim sum with him (plus a friend and four other couples) at Emerald that day. All you have to do to be eligible is translate this Mandarin phrase posted in his newsletter. My grandpa was Chinese, but the only Mandarin words I know are the ones you can find inside P.F. Chang’s menu. I asked every Chinese person I knew to translate this phrase for me—my co-worker’s friend in Arizona, one of my sister’s co-workers in her auditing department, my ex-boyfriend’s sister’s fiancé… They all agreed on the same translation, so I’ve submitted my entry. Wish me luck! If I don’t win, I’ll be forced to hit the bars and make some bad decisions…
I just downloaded Sade’s new album, Soldier of Love. I’m not sure which iTunes playlist to file it under—Baby Makin’ Music or Sad Times? Conundrum!
By Your Side is still my all-time favorite Sade song. I’ve known it was going to be my wedding song since the first time I heard it in 2000. Ten years later,
I’m still not married I haven’t changed my mind.
When you’re on the outside baby and you can’t get in
I will show you you’re so much better than you know
When you’re lost and you’re alone and you cant get back again
I will find you darling and I will bring you home
I’m not gonna lie—my vagina is pretty excited.