Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall - Who's the Lamest of Them All?

You wanna know how I know I’m lame?

When it’s Friday and I get off work, I am not excited to go out, get shitty drunk and spend my Saturday hungover.

Oh no, my friends, oh no!

Today – a perfectly good Friday for getting shitty drunk - I got off work and I was excited to pick up my car ($1700 later), come home, finish up my laundry, wash the pile of dishes in the sink, clean up my room, pay my bills, order a pizza and watch a movie until it’s time for Cute Boy to get home from work.

I am so my mother’s child.

P.S. And in an effort not to be EXTRA lame by only leaving one lame post today, I promise to get back to you with Facts #21-30 in my “100 Things About Me” after I finish watching “The Assassination of Jesse James”.

See? Not so lame after all, huh?

UPDATE: I take it back. Today I am going to be extra lame.

It's Beginning to Feel A Lot Like Easter!

So my mom e-mails me today. She’s a big fan of my blog, probably because she gets such splendid shout-outs on it, but mostly because she is a big fan of anything I do. I suppose that’s just the nature of moms.

Anyway, she read my blog and told me not to worry, gang members always want to kill the police, it’s nothing new, she’ll be fine, etc. etc.

So I guess I am not so worried anymore. Although, my worry had already started to fade. The more I envision an encounter between my mother and a “homeboy”, the more I see said homeboy getting his arse kicked.

As some of you noted, my mom is a pretty tough lady. The reason I never got in trouble growing up is because you only have to see my mom mad once to know you NEVER want to see it again. I’m just sayin’…

In other news, the lovely Miss Jamie wrote a great post today and I couldn’t agree more with what she had to say.

First of all, I am completely entertained with pretty much every post every one of you writes. Pictures of dogs, “Would you rather Wednesdays?” and tales of irritation are all amusing to me and all make my day in some way or another.

Secondly, I truly hope none of you expects to be entertained by my wit and whimsy in every post every day. It won’t happen.

To be quite honest, I write this blog for me, not for you. It is icing on the cake that approximately four of you read it, actually enjoy it occasionally and comment to let me know as much. I couldn’t be happier about that. But it’s (literally and figuratively) all about me and when I write my novel in November – well that, my dears, will be all for you.

Now going back to my mom’s e-mail, she also asked me what I want in my Easter basket this year. Yes, that’s right, my Easter basket. I am twenty-three years old and my mom will still give me an Easter basket and I couldn’t be happier about that.

Let me tell you how I think I swung this one: my younger brother is six years younger than me. And my mother, being the democratic disciplinarian that she is, has always tried to make things more or less equal between the two of us, even if that’s not always plausible with two children aged six years apart. So when my brother was fourteen and I was twenty, he was still getting an Easter basket so in all fairness, so was I.

Now my brother is almost seventeen and I am well on my way to senility, but my mom is still going to give us Easter baskets, I think just for the sentimentality of it all. Plus, since I live so far away now and don’t ask her for quite as much money as I used to, she likes to give me gifts whenever I come home. Easter is just another excuse.

The greatest part of all about these Easter baskets is that, as we’ve grown older (and less deserving of Easter baskets), the better the baskets have gotten. When we were younger, they were only ever filled with candy and small toys like wind-up yellow chicks. These past few years, they’ve been filled with DVDs and money.

It’s almost too splendid.

So, anyways, mom wants to know what I want in my basket this year. She said to give her plenty of ideas.

I said: “Am I allowed to ask for something big?”

M: “Well, not too big. It has to fit in the basket.”

She’s so cute ☺

“No mom, not big in actual size, big in value.”

M: “Oh sure, give me a list of everything you might want.”

So this is the list I am sending her:

- Macbook Air (big in value, definitely not big in actual size)

- Borders Gift Card

- Starbucks Gift Card

- Plain ‘ol money, in general

- Outback Steakhouse Gift Card (those never get old)

- Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups (shaped like eggs for the occasion)

- Cadbury Cream Eggs

- “No Reservations” DVD

- “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” DVD

Obviously, I want the lappy the most. Obviously, I won’t get it. I highly doubt my mom anticipates me asking for a $2,000 gift for my Easter basket. But, in my defense, I asked if I was allowed to ask for something big and she walked right into that trap.



Maybe, having read my blog, she will be so inspired by my dream of writing all day every day on my Macbook Air (with an occasional jog in the sun) and want to contribute to that…kind of like an investor.

It’s just a thought.

Livin' In a Gangsta's Paradise

I miss my family like crazy - my mom, in particular – this I think we have established. And being that it was basically just my mom, my brother and I growing up, I feel especially protective of them both (but mostly just my mom, since my brother has a tendency to be an obnoxious poohead).

So I am talking to my mom this evening and she’s telling me about her “crazy” week at work last week. As a little sidenote for those of you who don’t know me personally, my mom is a homicide detective, so “crazy” weeks tend to be par for the course.

Anyhoo, her crazy week consisted of a homicide on Wednesday (man was carrying his two year old daughter down the street, car pulls up, suspect jumps out, shoots the man point blank, baby is dropped but okay, man dies later at the hospital). As much as that sounds like a crazy day in the 9 to 5 work life of me, I suppose that’s just another day on the job for mi madre. But worry not, it gets crazier. 

So some woman snatches this baby who fell when the dude got shot and takes off. No one knows who or where she is until she shows up at a hospital hours later, saying that her baby is acting funny and not mentioning the – oh, I don’t know – DEAD MAN WHO WAS HOLDING HER WHEN SHE GOT DROPPED ON THE SIDEWALK!

So little Miss Not-So-Good-With-the-Details turns out to be the baby’s mother and somehow this is all connected to a very prominent gang in my old neighborhood (I don’t think I told y’all yet that I was hood. That was coming in Facts #21-30.)

So the gang unit for the police department tracks down these vile, villainous, murderous, almost-baby-hurters – one of the geniuses has a handgun and the other one has an AK-47 – and what do they do when they see the cops? They start shooting, of course.

Now let me tell you a little something about the police (trust me, I have insider experience here). They don’t like it when you try to kill them. It’s SO weird, but they’re just funny like that. In my vast experience with them, it never goes over well. Go figure.

So this little sitcha-ation, something the coppers like to call an “officer-involved shooting”, does not end up quite like Gangsta #1 and Gangsta #2 anticipated, being that one of them got arrested and the other one got…dead.

Great news, right? At least for us crime-free, baby-lovin’ folk.

Not so much.

Because the police dared to kill a member of this gang – one of their “homeboys” as my mother so adorably refers to them – this group of hooligans has “declared war” on the police station at which my mother resides.

First of all, let’s address their terminology. Yes, that’s right, they “declared war”. Really, homeboys? Really?! I don’t want to be quick to judge though. Their cause could be just – I’ve heard my mom’s station has nuclear weapons.

Secondly, let’s address the fact that I am now fucking terrified for my mother’s life. Seriously, I have been trying to sit here and get work done for my actual job tomorrow, and all I can think about is how some tatted-up fuckerface is going to try and hurt my mom because another cop defended his own life by shooting up some other tatted-up fuckerface who had already killed someone else before his own death!

I ask my mom: “So are you in any real danger right now?”

M: “Well, I suppose I have to be more on my guard now. I mean, you know how the station is - anyone can just pull into the backlot at any time and the backdoor is pretty much always propped open. They haven’t really increased security much.”

“So you guys don’t think they’ll be stupid enough to do anything to the station then?”

M: “Not necessarily. I was just telling my partner the other day how they could walk into the lot at night, put a bomb under one of these cars and take out the whole station.”

“SO, UM, HOW EXACTLY ARE YOU STAYING SAFE?!”

M: “I just watch my back. Make sure no one follows me home at night. You know…I’m just careful. It’s a pretty scary time at work right now.”

And that was it. 

Thanks, mom. It’ll be really fun trying to fall asleep at night and, oh I don’t know, live life as usual for the next five years (that’s at least how long these “declared wars” last, right?)

Of course, I immediately told her that I would really appreciate it if she transferred stations. She said she couldn’t because of some bulhooey about loving her job.

Fuck. That. Shit. Besides the obvious fact that I tend to be a selfish human being, I don’t think I could ever love a job enough to literally risk my life just going to work.

The moral of the story is: don’t let your parent pursue work in the police and/or firefighter industry (I’ve heard that’s a dangerous one too). I am now terrified for my mother’s life and even more worried that I am wasting away precious time up here while my family (and a good number of my closest friends!) are all hours away, next to some AK-47 wielding hoodlums.

Sweet. That was a great end to my Monday.

In other, not quite-so-dramatic news, my oh-so-informed younger brother tells me that Huckabee (some Republican presidential candidate; I think his first name is Mike) will appoint Chuck Norris as his Secretary of Defense if he is elected president. Oh and my brother added that he will be voting for Mr. Huckabee for abovementioned reason.

This is stupid for two reasons. First of all, my brother is not even seventeen yet. He obviously cannot vote, though I tend to think he legitimately feels he will cast his vote for (Mike?) Huckabee in the next presidential election. Also, is it even possible for this Huckabee character to make Chuck Norris his Secretary of Defense? Are there NO qualifications for such an undertaking? If not, then that, in itself, is Stupid Reason #2.

I’m off to cite the prayer of my childhood:

Please God, keep the bad guys away from my mommy.

The Weekend Wrap-Up

This weekend was all kinds of splendid.

I had the best of intentions and was so sure that I was going to blog while I was in Napa. I even lugged my lappy along for the trip, but alas when we got to our (splendid!) hotel room, the “complimentary wireless Internet” was as slow as a slug and I had no patience for such shenanigans, so I decided to take a two-day break from the blog-osphere.

Anyways, to sum up, Cute Boy and I went to three different wineries on Saturday (Domaine Carneros, Pine Ridge and [Some Name I Can’t Remember] Grove) and worked ourselves up a nice buzz. Then we showed up to our hotel, settled in and ended up taking a three-hour nap (well, I did anyway). It was perfect.

Yesterday we traipsed around Calistoga and got mud bath treatments and full-body massages at some spa. Heaven. It was pure heaven. Which makes going back to work on Monday even worse than it normally is - blimey.

In other news, I didn’t read much of my new Obama book this weekend. To make up for that, I read it aloud in the car as Cute Boy drove me to work this morning. He was really cute – pretending like he cared and wanted me to keep going even though I know being read to (out of a political book, no less) is one of the more abominable activities to have to endure.

I couldn’t even stand being read to when I was younger, demanding that my mother just give me the book if she wasn’t going to pronounce “Ramona Quimby” correctly. God, if you want anything done right, you just have to do it yourself.

My next big trip is to New York in about three weeks and then to Las Vegas about a week after that. Both trips are for work, but I’m sure I can fit some gambling, boozing and high-class hookers in there somewhere. I’m a multitasker, after all.

"100 Things About Me" - Things 11 through 20

11. Macaroni and Cheese is my all-time favorite dish of all time. I know that sounded redundant. I’m emphasizing my point. It never gets old to me. And I make a pretty mean dish of it myself. My little bestest from home – LC, we’ll call her (not unlike The Hills “character” – and yes, I said character) – doesn’t even really like M’n’C because she finds it “too cheesy” (yeah, I don’t get it either). But she has, of course, declared my version “just right” – just one of many reasons she nabbed the coveted Bestest title.

12. I used to have bangs. Really, really sweet bangs when I was twelve to fourteen years of age. Now if you’ll remember I had (have) curly hair, so my bangs were of course…curly. Little spiral curls (approx. 5 or 6 of them) that just sat on my forehead. And of course, since I had to put gel in my crazed mess of a mane, they were kind of, sort of…glued to my forehead. Maybe someday I’ll show you a picture…today is not that day.

13. I hate snow. I’m sorry, but I just do. Does that make me lame? I think not. It’s ice, for god’s sake. Lots and lots of packed ice. And ice, last time I checked, is cold and hard – great for cooling off my beer on a hot summer’s day, not for my ass when I inevitably fall on it while “playing” in the snow. Take me to the beach, please.

14. I worked at Abercrombie & Fitch on 3 separate occasions. Not my proudest moments. It was simultaneously boring/embarrassing/lame/easy money. And I’m always down for some easy money…well, not always.

15. I have a little soft spot in my heart for Tori Spelling. I think she is one of those people that literally everyone in the world (including her husband, baby and myself) find completely obnoxious, but she embraces it and puts herself out there to be criticized anyway. I’m always a sucker for some good, ol’ fashioned self-destruction.

16. I have a younger half brother on my mom’s side. He’s almost seventeen years old, about 6’4”, 240 pounds. Football is his life. Seriously. His Myspace told me so. We may not have the same dads (thank god, as his is all kinds of douchebag…you know, compared to my Father of the Year), but he’s tortured me for seventeen long years so you could say we’re pretty close. I know this much – if you ever tried to mess with me, he’d sit on you. And we don’t want that, now do we?

17. I graduated from UC Berkeley in May 2007 with an undergraduate degree in Mass Communications. I don’t have a whole heck of a lot of school spirit. I mean, I am proud I went there and all, but I could care less if our football team wins the [Sugar, Orange, Texas, Rose, etc.] Bowl. Seriously, it’s UC Berkeley. Who really goes for the football?

18. I love tulips. They are just so prim, proper and perfect-looking. And look at that - cause for alliteration, too! I wish I were more like a tulip :/

19. I agree with this.

20. I’m a huge Dodgers fan. Okay, that’s kind of a lie. But I’m from Los Angeles, so I have a little Blue spot in my heart for the Dodgers. And whenever someone brings up baseball, I have to say, “Fuck the Padres! Dodgers all the way, man!” even though I haven’t been watching either team play. And the Dodgers usually suck. It’s a loyalty thing. Try to understand.

To-Buy List

I am buying this next Tuesday.



Cute Boy will more than likely try to talk me out of purchasing a CD, since he's all about downloading that shit for free.

But I don't care. I've got to support Ms. Jackson...'cuz I'm nasty.

Counting Down the Hours...

I just got off the phone with the Los Angeles Times. My coworker – let’s just call him TCB – has this contact over there that he made while pitching for one of our company’s clients. Now this LA Times reporter calls him every time she needs to speak with people for a story and this time she wanted to speak with a female who loves her iPhone – in other words, me.

To be perfectly honest, I don’t really love my iPhone. I like it a lot, but I’m not one of those Apple prophets that thinks Steve Jobs is god and all other gadgets should bow at the base of the Apple throne. I also kind of want a Voyager and a Blackberry, so I can’t truly be a devout iPhone lover. But more than that, I want my name in the LA Times. So I put on my “I ♥ Apple” shirt and pitched the shit outta my iPhone.

In other news, the Boy and I are going to Napa this weekend.

I am beyond stoked. I love wine, I love hotels and my boyfriend’s ah-right, so all in all, it should be a splendid time. I bought him a sweet present for our 6 month-iversary too, so he’s like extra in love with me right now. It’s this 4-in-1 record player. It plays records, CDs, tapes (seriously, who still has tapes? my boyfriend, that’s who.) and connects to your iPod. It’s pretty fuckin’ sweet. In fact, for 2.5 seconds I considered taking it back, but it would’ve been like taking a nipple from a baby. Seriously, it was that good.



I also bought a new book – Barack Obama’s “The Audacity of Hope” – so I’m looking forward to reading that entire tome on my relaxing two-day vacay. Hopefully, Cute Boy doesn’t pull some “this trip was supposed to be about us” bullshit. I kid, I kid. But I really want to read this book.

Speaking of the Boy, he has gotta be my biggest cheerleader when it comes to this blog thing, but I can tell it’s gonna get old to him in a quick minute. Last night at dinner (which I pseudo-guilted him into taking me to since, “It’s our month-iversary!”, and those only come around, you know…once a month), he said:

“Don’t start thinking you’re all cool now because you have a blog.”

To which I replied:

“Don’t make me fucking blog about you.”

It’s a sweet, sweet power this blog.

Anyways, for those of you who don’t track US Weekly and PerezHilton.com with the dedicated vigilance that I do, Jennifer Lopez gave birth to twins – a girl and a boy – this morning. I can’t help feeling a twinge of jealousy in my heart since, growing up, all I wanted was twin babies of the boy and girl variety. My mom used to ask what I would do if I had just a single child.

“Give it back and keep trying for doubles.” Obviously.

I’ll have Facts #11-20 in my much-anticipated “100 Things About Me” for you later today. I know you’re all too excited.

And on an ending note, how much ass does my new blog design kick? Jess over at Cuppycake Designs warms my heart.

Happy Friday !!

6 Months of Sweet Lovin'

To my five faithful readers, I apologize profusely for not posting yet today. My very existence has been nonstop busy-ness since I awoke this morn.

But I missed you guys. I really did.

Also, today is my 6 month-iversary with this guy I know so now that I am finally done working, I've gotta go get wasted with him. So romantic.

Happy 6 Month-iversary to Us!

This day fuckin' wore me out.  I'm almost too tired to go hit the sauce right now...almost.  

I promise to be better to you tomorrow.

A Story in [My] Humility and 1-10 of My “100 Things About Me”

God, sometimes I am amazed at my own self-discipline.

And also my own humility (do I have to tell you to please note the sarcasm? well, please do). It’s becoming increasingly apparent that I’m the least self-deprecating blogger in the blogosphere. Worry not, I’m still a baby blogger and not entirely comfortable sharing my inevitable, varied and multitudinous flaws with you just yet. (NOTE: I’m not trying to show off; I actually use the word “multitudinous” in day-to-day conversation.)

(Okay, that was a lie.)

Back to my self-discipline. First of all, I took a nap when I got home from work. As a general disclaimer for this and future posts, I love sleep. Maybe it’s normal, maybe it’s not. It seems a little excessive to me (and most other people). My naps are usually at least three hours in length and sometimes (actually, often) turn into all-night napathons. So the fact that I actually woke up from my nap and then got up and stayed up is nothing short of extraordinary – and Exhibit A in the case of my self-discipline.

Exhibit B would be the fact that I wanted to write a post about my self-discipline as soon as I got my lazy ass out of bed, but instead I caught up on general assignments/my schedule for work tomorrow. And thank god I did, as I might have very well (i.e. definitely would have) forgotten that I have to be on a conference call at 8 tomorrow morning.

Fuck.

Thank god I took a nap.

In other news, I am fairly certain I will be jumping on the “100 Things About Me” blog bandwagon shortly. I don’t know. I’m still thinking about it. I’m not entirely sure I could come up with 100 unique, interesting facts about me.

Here’s 10:

1. I was born in Long Beach, California; raised in Los Angeles, California; went to college in Berkeley, California and now reside in sunny (I wish) San Francisco.

2. My parents split up when I was a year old. Haven’t seen my pops since. I do know, however, that I have an older, half brother on my dad’s side, whom I just recently tried to Google. I actually found a picture of him – but that’s another blog post for another day.

3. I am 23 years old and I work for a boutique PR firm in the mobile technology/wireless/Web 2.0 industries as a PR consultant. My actual title is “PR Rockstar”. No joke. Check the business card.

I am starting to realize these would be easier if I listed one simple fact, instead of making each one a little story with a lot of interconnected facts. Oh well. Don’t care.

4. I love cream soda. Seriously, I adore it. I could (and try to) drink it all day, every day, for the rest of my existence. It is always my non-alcoholic libation of choice.

5. I have naturally curly hair. Think “Sister, Sister” twins curly, but not so tight and wound up. And keep imagining my curls in your head, because you’ll never see them. 99.7% of the time, I straighten that shit. I have no such time for the nonsense and uncooperativeness my curls plagued me with for twenty-one long years.

6. I love my mom. That should be #1, but I just thought about it right now, because if you’ve been reading my blogs at all, that should be really obvious. That woman is the shit. In the words of Boyz II Men, loving her is like food to my soul.



7. I have an iPhone. I’ve had one since the day they came out AND my boss bought it for me (and the rest of the office – don’t get any ideas!). It’s one of the many - and I’m stretching the use of the word “many” – perks of working in the mobile industry.

8. I am currently taking an Italian class. Cute Boy is taking it with me (he is actually Italian; I just want to live in Italy). I skipped class for the first time last night. I love the class, but sometimes the last thing I want to do when I get off work is go sit in a classroom for three and a half hours. For a little Italian culture, Cute Boy and I went to a vino bar and got toasted instead.

9. I love Friends. The television show. The one that went off the air five years ago. To this day when someone (or a Myspace survey) asks what my favorite television show is, I will say “Friends” – even though a new episode hasn’t aired in five years. I have every season on DVD, I can quote episodes line-for-line (as they’re playing, not off the top of my head; I’m not that good), and every situation I seem to find myself in elicits this response: “This reminds me of a Friends episode.” And it really does.

10. I do actually have baby fever right now. Not the kind where I actually want my own baby, but the kind where I love playing with other people’s tots A LOT, but still enjoy giving them back when they cry/poop/slobber directly into my mouth. But honestly, I’ve been comin’ down with that fever all my life, so Cute Boy needs to just chill the fuck out on that front.

That wasn’t too hard. I suppose talking about myself rarely is. I’ll add more soon, I pinky promise.

That’s all she wrote for tonight.

Happy Blog-iversary to me! And a few words on my next novel...

Today is my One Week Blog-iversary. So I am pretty excited about that.

You can pretty much expect that I will chronicle the anniversary of my first blog weekly, then monthly and finally yearly when that time comes. That’s just how I roll. If my boyfriends could deal with it, you can too. In fact, I think the thought of somehow forgetting one of our monthly anniversaries actually strikes fear in my Cute Boy now. He actually got all pale and ashy when he realized he had made plans to play music with his buddies on our 6 month-iversary. God, I really hope I am not that intimidating. Or maybe I do…

In other news, I am writing a novel. In November. Which is National Novel Writing Month, in case you were unaware. But anywho, I am going to do it.



I used to write “books” all the time when I was younger. I wrote my first piece when I was two. I kid you not. Okay, I didn’t actually write it. I dictated it to my agent (my mother) who wrote it down on blank sheets of paper, three-hole punched it and bound it with red yarn. I illustrated these little babies too. Meaning, of course, that I cut out pictures of Disney characters and pasted them in manners depicting my plotline all over the crisp white pages of my first tome. This was my creative “process” for awhile…at least until I could write on my own and realized I had no illustrative talent - cut and paste or otherwise.

Then, between the ages of 8 and 12 (okay, 14), I had American Girl Dolls. And I loved me some American Girl. It was like this intense competition between every other 8-12 year old girl over who could have the most (90 dollar) dolls, clothes, accessories, books, mini-dolls, horses, beds, “best friend” dolls, etc.; but I digress…

At some point during my AG obsession, they came out with a line of “Just Like You” dolls – you know, the kind where you select the skin color, hair color, eye color, etc. Well, actually no etc., that’s all you get to choose.

So anyways, these “Just Like You” dolls came with six books (an introduction, school, Christmas, birthday, something heroic, and something with a moral lesson), as all AG dolls do, but the “Just Like You” dolls came with six BLANK books. So, as I’m sure you’ve gathered, my next foray into the authoring world came about as I pieced together the story of my “Just Like You” doll (who just so happened to have blue eyes, red hair and light skin – entirely unlike myself, but that’s another blog post for another blog-iversary)’s fictional existence.



I basically stopped writing after that. Not entirely sure why. It may have had something to do with the fact that I was in school and reading and writing became this required foolishness, which left me little time to do the reading and writing my heart truly desired.

But now, I am going to write a novel. I’ve known for a while now that I wanted to write again. I go through books like it’s nobody’s business and every time I set one down, I think to myself, “I could’ve written that.” Of course, it’s never when I’m reading Chuck Klosterman or Wally Lamb, but I digress…In addition to my unwavering certainty in my own novel-ing abilities, my Boy and my buddy, Ryan (Cute Boy’s roommate), have been insisting for quite some time now that I write something – anything! I guess they just think I am that witty.

So anyways, that’s why I started this blog – to write something (anything!) every day. And it’s great, I love it, I can’t wait to write something every 2.5 hours. But now I feel it’s time to get back to my novel-ing roots. I’m going to be planning/strategizing/outlining for these next 9 months and then, in November, I am going to write it. That’s right – I am going to write the whole thing in November (well, 50,000 words at least). That’s the way NaNoWriMo works. The pressure to bust out a novel in a mere 30 days helps you to be less inhibited, less structured; it just lets you be free, creative and get words on a page.

So I’m feeling pretty splendid about that. It brings me one day closer to making my living by getting up in the morning and spending all day at my Macbook Air (fingers crossed) , writing, writing and writing some more…


Until then, back to real life and my real job. Le sigh…

Tuesday Musings

I had one of those nights last night. One of those nights where my heart just ached for my family and my friends (who do not live in San Francisco) and where I couldn’t help but think that, for as great as this City is, it is not my home and I can’t wait until my mom and my Crystal and my Jackie are just a half hour drive away at most.

Usually when I have those kind of moments, I’ll wake up the next morning and the sun will be shining, the sky will be a brilliant blue, the air will be crisp but refreshing and I’ll walk into work thinking, “God, I’m lucky to be experiencing my first few years of adulthood in this city.”

Yeah, not today.

Today, I wake up, throw on my mocs, walk outside…and it’s raining. Fucking raining. Goddammit, San Francisco, you know how I feel about rain!!

So that’s that. San Francisco and I are in a fight right now.

On a brighter note – please take a gander at my new shoes !!



Okay, I promise to stop talking about them…for today. Besides, who doesn’t like a brighter note on a rainy day?

In other news, Fidel Castro resigned today. I can’t help feeling that this news isn’t altogether spectacular. I mean, the man is on his deathbed; in fact, he hasn’t been seen in public since 2006 so he could already be dead for all we know. My point is, the damage has been done. And now his brother Raul, Mr. Sunshine himself, will be taking over power. Splendid. So while it’s all well and good that Fidel won’t be wielding his dictatorial iron fist over Cuba anymore, the Castro regime lives on which, I think, can’t really equate to anything good.

Per usual, I think my boy Barack said it best: “Cuba's future should be determined by the Cuban people and not by an anti-democratic successor regime.”



And, my final thought for this particular post, have you ever been reading a blog and thought, “My goodness, this person is witty. And real. And honest. And god, I wish I could write like them?” That’s how I feel about this little gem. She keeps it real, spaces her lines out for your visual pleasure, plus she has adorable kids AND adorable bangs. Read her.

I leave you with video of Cruz Beckham (I think you can figure out who his parents are) breakdancing. I love me some breakdancing 3-year olds :)

BlogHer '08

I am pondering attending BlogHer '08 in my lovely second home of San Francisco this July.

Has anyone ever been?  Thoughts? Is it worth the $248 (which I really can't afford anyway)?

And, most importantly, will any of your lovely faces be in attendance?

In other news, watch the clip below.  It never fails to make me laugh...and I love me some JT.

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Merry Monday to You !!

So, in spite of being one of two people working today (my coworker being the other one), today has been a pretty splendid day!  In the spirit of my newest read, "To-Do List: From Buying Milk to Finding a Soul Mate, What Our Lists Reveal About Us" by Sasha Cagen, I am going to list for you the reasons why today has been so excellent:

• The sun FINALLY came out, even though the gloomy morning was indicative of yesterday's stay-inside-and-read-all-day weather.
• My mocs came !!
• My boss sent me a particularly uplifting e-mail, informing me that I was "on fire!" with regards to all the hard work I've been doing lately.  Splendid, really.
• The lovely and talented Jessica, from Cuppycake Designs, will be designing my newest blog template and I am beyond excited about that!!
• I am planning my next visit home to Los Angeles, which is always something to look forward to...
• My Boy is cute and loving and great to me  - today and EVERY day - even if he did hold my house keys hostage yesterday
• Contrary to what you might think, since I am writing a blog post in the middle of the day, I am actually getting A LOT of work done today
• My mom just texted me and...man, I love that girl - she just makes me smile
• Even when every other business is closed, Starbucks is still open to fill me with warm "vanilla latte w/ whip" goodness

Okay, now your turn to make a list (which by the way, is the March theme at NaBloPoMo, so this could come in handy later if you're participating in that) - make a list of all the tasks you've been putting off that will feel really good to get done!

Happy Monday :)

A Moccasin-Filled Monday

My mocs came today!  I love Zappos :)  And I love our office's FedEx guy - he is such a peach!

Anyways, I'll be back later with more bloggedy-blog goodness and a picture  of my new shoes!

The Almost Picture Perfect Sunday

Today had been a blissfully perfect Sunday up until a couple of minutes ago.  My Boy had to wake up early to go to work, but instead of making me get up and drive him, he just took my car and allowed me to keep sleeping until I finally got up around 11:30.  Even then, I didn't really get up but rather grabbed one of the books I just bought ("Baby Proof" by Emily Giffin) and proceeded to read the entire thing - that's right, the entire thing.  And today is not nearly as beautiful as yesterday, in fact, its downright cold (not that I would actually know, since I haven't been outside), gloomy and dark, so I don't feel bad at all having spent most of the day in bed.

So, after finishing my book, I get up and take a shower, expecting my Boy to be back anytime now.  I decide to make some Kraft Macaroni and Cheese (as that is the only thing that could make my Sunday any better), start boiling the water and realize I am out of milk.  So I call the Boy and I say, "Can you please pick up some milk on your way here?"  And I can tell from the sounds in the background that he has yet to even leave for my house as he rambles on to me the reasons why he probably won't be back at my house for several more hours.  No big deal; I am actually rather enjoying this day with myself, so I decide I will get the milk myself and we hang up.  Then I realize that the Boy has my car, which in turn means he has the keys to my car and thereby the keys to my house, meaning that even though I can easily walk across the street to get milk and can leave my front door unlocked, I have no way of leaving the main gate unlocked, as one of my unwaveringly douchebaggy neighbors will undoubtedly close it (and then later give me shit for having left it open).  I immediately tried to call the Boy back with the news that I could not, in fact, get milk without his presence (and more importantly, my keys), but of course he didn't answer this time.  So now, I sit here with my water still boiling (literally and figuratively) upset that my picture-perfect Sunday has been upset by the fact that I can't make my macaroni and cheese.

You don't have to tell me that I'm being irrational.  I know I am.  But it's a little frustrating when all I want is some damn milk and I can't get it because the Boy has my keys, is too busy to come back to my house and now, is not returning my phone call.  And really, deep down, I know that I could eat something else - even order in some pizza if I really wanted to; but unfortunately, now I do not want to.  The only thing in the world I want to eat right now is Kraft Macaroni and Cheese - with MILK!

Workaholic Rex

Dear Carefree Childhood,

I miss you.

xoxo,

Brown Eyed Girl

P.S. Why is Perez Hilton not adding any new posts?  How am I supposed to procrastinate?!

P.P.S. Sigh. Back to work.

Thank Goodness It's Friday

Last night was interesting.

For those of you who may have missed the announcement, yesterday was Stephen G.'s birthday.  We ate cake, drank beer and played pool and, best of all, Stephen said he had a great time so it was a pretty splendid night overall.

There were some not-so-great things that happened last night (and this morning!) too, but I'm not so sure I'll be sharing those with the blogosphere just yet.  While I admit I find the more personal and revealing blogs to be the most tittilating, I can't bring myself to share every little detail of my life just yet - especially if it involves someone else's life as well, who of course, made no such decision to start their own blog and chronicle their lives on the Internet.

So anyways last night was interesting, but splendid nonetheless.  Needless to say, I am ridiculously exhausted today. A little burnt out (to say the least)...

OH!  I almost forgot to share the good news with you all - I got paid today :)  It's such a glorious feeling to check your bank account online and see more than one figure in the balance column.  And then, my mom calls me and tells me that not only do I NOT owe the government money after taxes, but I am also getting a pretty hefty sum back from them in the next few weeks.  Such splendid news!  It almost makes me feel a little less exhausted...almost.

Oh and also, I have to be honest with you guys since I feel like we are all so close already -  I bought those mocs.  I couldn't help myself!  It was like a present to myself to make up for the night and the morning that I had.  But worry not, I paid my mom and the San Francisco Department of Parking and Traffic first.

Blime.  I already feel guilty having told you about my impulse buy.  I suppose I'll feel better when I have those sweet suede babies on my feet :)

Anyways, work beckons for now.  Hope you're all having a splendid Friday!

I Love Birthdays - Stephen G. Edition

Happy Birthday, Stephen!

My $8 Existence

I have $10.11 in my bank account right now which, actually, is an accomplishment.  My credit union tends to get a little cranky when I have less than $5 (or less than $0) in my account at any given time.  I could create a novella with all of the paper statements they have sent me asking me to please try and keep at least $5 in my account, but I digress...

Living off $10 is hard.  And I've been living off about $8 for the past two weeks in my heroic attempt to keep some money in my account (double what the minimum is, in fact!).  There's a Walgreens down the street from my work and you can buy Pepperoni Pizza Hot Pockets there for around $3 and, after you purchase those, you get a coupon which lets you buy TWO boxes of Hot Pockets for about $1.  And of course, as any starving twentysomething knows, every box of Hot Pockets comes with TWO Hot Pocket sandwiches, so these little babies have served as my lunch and dinner for the past two weeks - and I still have ten bucks in my bank account!

So obviously, I am pretty proud of myself.  But also fairly obvious is the fact that my $8 existence is pretty pathetic.  I mean, I have a full-time job at a successful PR company! Why am I living off Hot Pockets?*

So luckily, I am getting paid tomorrow (and I have a sweet gift certificate to Outback courtesy of a very splendid Valentine).  But what's the first thing I want to do when I get paid? I want to buy these sweet Minnetonka Moccasins:

And then I want to head to the bookstore and buy about 5 books I've had on my list since I began the Life of $8.  I want to get these two caterpillars crawling on my face above my eyes waxed.  I want to buy an anniversary gift for Cute Boy.  I want to put away money for my upcoming trip to Napa.  I want to pay my mother back the $200 I owe here from helping me purchase my bed back in 11/07.  I don't want, but have to, renew my parking permit for a pricey 60 bucks - which sucks doubly because I will probably only be living at this location for another four months and it's a year long pass.  I also don't want to, but have to, pay off the parking ticket I received over at Cute Boy's apartment last week when I took a nap and forgot to read the meter.  Blime.

And then, of course, I want to eat.  And not just Pepperoni Pizza Hot Pockets, even though they are so dear to my heart.** You see my dilemma, I'm sure. I am struggling with equal parts low salary, lots of monetary needs and even more monetary wants.

Last October, Elysa posted this money-saving post on GenPink.  Splendid advice, really.  Especially the part about selling books on Amazon (as opposed to my copious habit of...well, buying them).  So in the spirit of Elysa's frugality, here are my day-to-day ways to improve my finances:

Items I Have Implemented in My Life to Save Money

• Um...yeah. I buy my Hot Pockets with coupons?
• I eat the office supply of Whoppers (the malted milk ball, not the hamburger) for a healthy, mid-day snack.
• Hmm...okay, moving on!

Things I Plan to Start Doing

• Using coupons for ALL my food shopping!
• Actually, shopping for food instead of going out to eat it.
• Not buying too many unnecessary purchases (like moccasins AND a new collection of books - just one or the other).
• Bringing my lunch to work.
• Plucking my caterpillars myself :/
• Resisting the urge to buy every magazine at the newsstand and understanding that they all say basically the same thing anyway.
• Eating breakfast at home instead of buying a bagel on the way to work every morning.
• Not driving to work :(
• Showering my Cute Boy with more kisses and less expensive presents.
• Getting a raise!  Woot !!

*You'll be happy to hear that I convinced Cute Boy that, as my one-and-only Valentine, it his duty to take me to lunch today.

**I am now too poor even to afford these Hot delights and have resorted to eating Whoppers to keep from fainting.  Blimey.

Happy VD

That's what my Cute Boy said to me this morning.  Happy VD.  So romantic.

In other news, I am hesitant to discuss VD today because I've been under the impression these past few weeks that anyone who is not in a romantic relationship has a general "fuck VD" attitude towards VD and automatically has a "fuck you" attitude towards me for being in love.

Understandable.  Never really hated the holiday myself, considering my mom was always such a kickass valentine, but it does feel good to have my own sweetie-pie to lay some smooches on this year (especially since mom is all the way in LA), so I kind of understand the hostility.  Kind of.

So in the spirit of celebrating love and not showering everyone with vomit-inducing declarations of love for my Boy, following are some other things that make me feel all warm and fuzzy and pink and red inside:

My Family

Slice of Pink

This adorable personal website/blog I found last night.  The lovely Ms. Janet loves pink, macaroni & cheese and Friends which kind of makes me think I should lose the Cute Boy and ask her to be my Valentine...

My first blog commenter, Maxie.  It made my heart smile to wake up this morning and see a new comment on my blog (well, two new comments actually, but I accidentally rejected one - blimey.) 

Mr. Obama. And progress.

And finally, as the lovely Ms. Maxie reminded me, today is National Step Up 2 Day...

...and I love me some dancing in the streets.

So, in addition to my Cute Boy, there's so much to love today! Have a splendid VD, everyone <3

Team Obama

For as much respect and admiration as I have for Hillary Clinton, I cannot get over this man. I love him.  He gives me goosebumps.

Sweet Valentine

Today was a rough day at work.

And really, if I was smart, I would be doing more work right now, but I am far too excited about my new blog so my "home work" will have to wait!

So I get home today and there was a little pink envelope with my name on it in the mailbasket which is very exciting, in and of itself, because getting ANYTHING in the mail that isn't a bill or a notice from the San Francisco Department of Parking and Traffic is cause for general excitement and anticipation.  The return address was, of course, from my mother because I receive no other mail than bills, notices from the San Francisco Department of Parking and Traffic and notes/packages from my mother.  This doesn't diminish my excitement, however, because 1) my mom generally sends wonderful things in the mail and 2) she has been my Valentine for the past twenty-two years and, as Valentine's Day is tomorrow, this envelope must be cause for even greater excitement than I originally anticipated!  Plus, like I said, it was a rough day at work, so even a pink envelope in the mailbasket cheers me up a bit.

So I open it.  It's a lovely card from my sweet giver of life - "You know that I love you...", "I've been given a wonderful daughter...", "perfect time to celebrate all that you've been and all that you are...", etc. etc.  Heart-wrenching stuff really.  And with this sugary sweet token of motherly love, she includes a $50 gift certificate to a certain Steakhouse which happens to be my favorite restaurant of all time.

This is fantastic on so many levels - 1) work was rough, remember? 2) this is not a bill/ticket 3) the envelope is pink 4) i love the $5 macaroni and cheese at said Steakhouse, so this gift card is worth, like, 10 trips.  Lots of reasons to be grateful, including the obvious reason that I have the World's Best Mom, but I can't help feeling a little sad...

Last year on Valentine's Day, my mom sent me a package - a box! - filled with red and pink goodies.  A couple years before that it was a Dooney & Bourke purse - for those of you who don't remember the D&B brand circa '04, that was a pretty pricey gift for a V-Day present.  So it occurred to me as I looked at my two cards (from Hallmark & Outback), that maybe I was growing up and mom wasn't going to shell out the big bucks to be my Valentine anymore. (SIDENOTE: I am in NO way saying that $50 is not a lot of money, just not compared to the dough mom used to shell out for V-Day.)  It occurred to me that I am 23 years old, living on my own in San Francisco, in a legitimate relationship with a Significant Other and my mom isn't going to shower me with flowers, chocolate-covered strawberries and purses, but rather just make sure that I am fed...which is kind of depressing and (fighting against my will to be a well-adjusted, young adult woman) made me a little melancholy for the days when mom used to buy my love (I kid, I kid).

So the moral of the story is multi-faceted:

• I still have the World's Best Mom
• I love food, therefore I love my gift card (and my mom!)
• My Significant Other will have to step up to the plate and buy me a purse and lots of other red and pink goodies for Valentine's Day*
• My life is still splendid, really

*Again, I kid.