Just a wee bit intoxicated

You may have noticed by my twitter, maybe not. Either way, I was drunk as a cute little skunk last night. Monday night. WTF?

Maybe it's because I'm hopping on the paranoid train with everyone here at the office. Seriously, I think I'm getting laid off this week. Last week was pretty rough in the office, what with 1/3 of HR out the door, with no announcement. IT tells us this week is going to be even worse. It's to the point where we debate sending out company wide "test" emails to see which ones bounce back. I mean, it's not like I would be upset if I lost my job. I think it's pretty obvious that I hate my job. I just don't like this feeling of uncertainty, and I certainly don't like the idea of no money.

Actually though, last night's drunken escapades were a result of a lovely evening with Jota. I made us the tastiest, easiest dinner ever (Balsamic glazed chicken and brussels sprouts with pecans), and then we sat in the nook peeled paint off the table, and listened to music. That is until I got bored and ditched him for Gossip Girl. Love you honey!

And seriously, dinner was so easy and great that I have to share. Enjoy!

Balsamic and Strawberry Glazed Chicken

4 chicken thighs
1 tsp french tarragon
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
3 tbs strawberry jam
juice from 1 lemon

Heat olive oil in a skillet, toss thighs in and season with salt, pepper, and tarragon. Cook chicken through and remove. Put balsamic vinegar, jam, and lemon juice in the skillet to remove any bits of goodness. Heat through, and toss the chicken back in to coat. And you're done.

Brussels Sprouts with Pecans

1 lb of brussels sprouts (or like the bag from Trader Joe's)
1/4 cup of butter
1 tbs of butter
1 tbs maple syrup
1 tbs apple cider vinegar
1 oz chopped pecans

Chop brussels sprouts so they're all shredded. Melt 1/4 cup of butter in skillet, toss sprouts in and cook until wilted, about 3 to 5 minutes. In the meantime, combine other tbs of butter (I never said this was healthy) with maple syrup and apple cider vinegar in a small sauce pan. Heat through, toss with finished sprouts and pecans.

Parking Wars

So I might have yelled at a grandma the other day. I might have called her a bitch, and told her to go fuck herself and then play in traffic. I might have a bit of road rage. I might not give a shit because I did grandma a favor. I mean, if she seriously thinks she can get away with the parking lot shenanigans she pulled with me last night, she's in serious trouble this holiday season.

First, let's go over some parking lot ground rules.

1. Please use your blinker to indicate that you're waiting on a spot.


2. Please pull as far to the right as possible so that other cars can get around you while you wait.


3. If you're going to slowly drive behind someone while they walk through the lot, ask them if they're actually going to leave. Not doing so is just plain creepy.


4. Once you've passed a space, do not back up. Deal with it, and continue to wait patiently.

Last night I stopped at Joann's Fabric on the way to my work event. I pulled into the small, horribly designed lot, and holy crikey was it packed. I was actually still sitting with the ass end of my car out on Lincoln Blvd, that is how crowded the parking lot was. So I'm sitting, and I'm waiting. The car in front of me, obviously frustrated, austin-powered around to get out of the lot. So I'm thinking, "Sweeeet, one less person for me to wait on."

I pull in so I'm not blocking the sidewalk, and luckily a woman walks out her car, the spot at the end of the parking lot. Yes, this could not work out any better. Oh I thought too soon. Crazy Grannie (who's waiting at the top of the lot) throws her car into reverse, skidding into a stop, blocking the car who's trying to leave. Then she sticks her had to wave me along. Excuse me? EXCUSE ME! I sat, didn't move, kept my blinker on. The lady trying to leave starts honking her horn. I'm all, "Dude, I'm not the one blocking your exit."

Crazy Grannie is all, "Well I'm not moving, I've waited 30 minutes for a spot."

Please see my diagram if you're having problems visualizing the situation.

Me, better the bigger person and all, decides to leave, but not without unleashing the fury on Botox Babs. This Christmas season, I hope she runs into her friend Silicone Sally who drives a Range Rover while trying to park at The Grove.

Working Girl

So last night my entire team ended up going to The Parlor in Santa Monica to watch the Lakers/Clippers game with our client. Fun, right? Or not. Boss Lady put me "in charge" of the viewing party, and by in charge I mean she picked the time, location, invitees, etc. All I really needed to do was get there early and make sure food and champagne was on the table when everyone arrived. Of course, she was nearly an hour late, meaning the apps I had ordered were long gone, and everyone was bored as hell, sitting around waiting for her so we could order dinner.

You'd think we would have been a more lively bunch. I mean here we are, sitting in a pretty decent bar, eating pretty decent food, drinking multiple bottles of pricey champagne; and people are more into watching the commercials and half time than the actual game. This is why I will never, ever, watch an NBA game with people from work again. I just wanted to scream, "People, enjoy the game! Stop bitching about AT&T this, Motorola that."

Ahh marketing. I hates it. The only good part of the night was my genius idea of absconding the unopened bottle of Veuve left on our table. Hello and welcome to High Class Halloween at the Jotas tomorrow night!

Halloween Time

I'll admit it. I love Halloween because it's the one day of the year I can dress like a slut and not have to worry about it. There, I said it. Mainly because my idea of slutty is totally G rated compared to most girls in LA who go all out for Halloween. Slap a leotard on me with some cute bunny ears and I'm good to go.

This year though, I have no idea what to be. I have all of these great costumes and parts of costumes, but no direction on what to do.
I have this gigantic, obnoxious white fur coat, that I've always wanted to wear with a bikini and blue wig, and be Lil' Kim, but Jota says no one will get it. Seriously, how can you forget this...

I also have this Rapunzel-esue wig I wore last year to be Princess Toadstool. I was thinking if I got a nude unitard, I could go as Lady Godiva minus the horse. Byn had a great idea of taking that outfit, add a bedazzler, and go as Britney circa her "oops I did it again" MTV VMA performance.

Freaking sweet! If only I had time to make a tear away pant suit. The problem is I can't find nude dance pants anywhere. Once I find them though, it's on. Then I need to figure out a way to rig the ipod speakers to the back of the pants so I can play Ms. Spears all night long. And get a butterfly tramp stamp.

If this doesn't work, I always have my girl scout, St Pauli girl, or Strawberry Shortcake costumes to fall back on.

What are you being for Halloween?

Wait, Not Again

Yep, I'm taking a break from the booze again. Thankfully this time it's not to...

1. Lose more weight.
2. Stop being a total crazy person.
3. Optimize weight loss.
4. Hide my alcoholic beverage intake from my mom.
5. Stop attacking my friends like a total crazy person.
6. Remedy the blackouts.
7. All of the above.

Nope, this time around it's because I'm plain old. And dude, old people get hangovers. Like irregardless of two beers or ten.

What I really should do is condition myself for the inevitable non-stop party that will be Byn's Thanksgiving visit, however I'm too lazy for that and will instead just quit until she gets here and then struggle through the hangover induced haze while she's here.

Homecoming turned out to be quite the adventure. I ended up rocking the sparkly blue dress with silver heels, headband, and my homemade corsage. Jota, looking like a dapper skater, dressed himself in plaid shorts, blue blazer, and ridiculous high tops. I need to get on updating my Flickr.

A few moments worth mentioning...

Class President Paul passed out in the front yard, Long Duk Dong style. I'd post photos but fear Homecoming Queen Allison will track me down and unleash the wrath on me like she did on Liz, and the cab her ride home. Yikes.

The boys performed like rockstars. Being artists, they claim to have sucked a phatty, and seeing as I was incredibly intoxicated, I can't argue otherwise. I do remember that at one point Jota chugged a cup of punch, threw the empty on the ground, stole a mic from someone and demanded a beer and jello shots. I happily obliged. And at one point, Murph jumped into the crowd to do the alligator while doing his best to imitate Michael J. Fox in Back to the Future. Drew pretty much held things together until he busted a string, in the second song. Meanwhile, I'm off to the side shouting to Michelle, "Dude, I gotta PEEEEE, but the last time I went during their show I got teased for the rest of the night."

At one point I found myself shovelling handfuls of Baked Lays and Sun Chips in my mouth, alternating flavors with gulps of beer. Thankfully I was a good girl and only had one cup of Amanda's deadly Pink Panty Droppers. Others, not so lucky. See above; Paul, Allison, Jota.

Sunday was unfortunately a waste of beautifulness as I was practically fused to the couch. Em did motivate me to get my ass to her house for yummy chili and spaghetti for dinner before our softball game. Note to self, do not eat chili when hungover, especially if you intend on any type of physical activity later on. I didn't even have Duff around to blame the smell on.

So, unless someone can reccomend an excellent hangover cure or even better preventor, I'm off the booze for a bit.

Shallow and Vapid

That's right.  If you're looking for insightful commentary on the election, our economy draining down the crapper, or anything else that requires reading something other than the Calendar section of the LA Times*, move on.  Not here.  Not today.  Not any day really because as I've mentioned before, I tend to get pretty worked up, and would rather spare y'all my crazy lunatic rants.  

Anywho...the gals over at 1249 are having one of their infamous bashes**.  This time around we're celebrating the time honored tradition of Homecoming.  Of course the first thing that comes to my mind is, "What am I going to wear?"

In a moment of brilliance, I remembered I saved all of my gowns from like every homecoming, prom, and pageant.  Sadly, the green velvet, cap sleeved, short dress, with tulle did not make it past freshman year.  WTF Cousin Jet, I know this monstrosity is languishing away in your closet missing out on all the great theme parties and Halloweens.  Knowing the mama was coming out in September, I begged and pleaded for her to make room in her bag.  Surprisingly, she actually remembered to bring all of them, throwing in the expected, "I don't see why I'm bringing these.  You'll never be able to fit into them."  

Without further ado, please dear friends help me decide what to  wear on Saturday!  And let me know like yesterday, because they all reek of my parents' wood stove, and I need to dry clean immediately.  Yes, I'm being cheap and only cleaning the one I wear.  Times are tough, money's tight, Wall Street's tanking, blah blah blah.    

Prom, junior year.  Worst date, and worst hair ever.  I had this horrible zig zag part with a bouffant mohawk.  No, I'm not joking.  Be thankful I don't have photos to share.  Ugh, and my date who wanted to go as "friends" tried to get fresh with me all night.  When I'd finally had enough, I called my mom at 2am claiming to be sick.  Also worn in the 1999 Miss Maryland USA pageant.  My mom's idea of the best way to keep me from gaining the "Freshman 15".      

Please excuse the wrinkles!  All these lovelies have been smushed in a bag for the past two weeks.  I wasn't kidding when I said they all smell like smoke.  This one is from sophomore homecoming, worn again for Byn's senior homecoming, and again by me for the Fair Queen Pageant.  Yep, Fair Queen, as in cows, pigs, corn and tomatoes.   

Senior homecoming, at a neighboring school.  I LOVED this dress!  I did not love the fact that I couldn't even wear undies because it's skin tight.  I might have to rule this one out due to the massive amounts of beer I plan on drinking.

Ok, technically this one was worn at the first wedding I was allowed to drink at.  I might have just broken up with the best man, and really wanted to piss his date off.  I might have taken shots of Jager at the dinner table with the only other single person there, and in front of my parents.  I also might have needed to be carried out of the reception, and I might have unsuccessfully tried to vomit out my car window while the car was moving.  It's possible that after that mishap, I passed out in my eleven year old brother's lap.  I think this might be the reason why he doesn't drink.  I think my parents should have thanked me for showing him the evils of alcohol.  I also think this dress knows how to have fun.  

Help please!

    

* Yeah right, like I'd waste precious brain cells on what I often describe as "the most poorly written publication of our time."  Washington Post all the way.  

** Please refer back to May/June for a recap of keg curls and table throwing at the Frat Party.

Pre-Weekend Update

First, many thanks to Katelin for well wishes on pastry school. One day I'll messenger over some sweet goodies to you. Only if you promise to share them with Ryan Gossling. Anywho, I'm officially applied and accepted, now I only need to figure out how on Earth I intend to pay for it. Because seriously y'all, pastry school is freaking expensive.

Nothing much going on in the World o' James this week. I went up to Seattle for an agency meeting that I spent pretty much all summer planning. Well, technically I spent about three weeks on this one, but there were multiple others including trips on seaplanes to British Colombia, private trains to Vancouver, and dinner cruises in Puget Sound that were cancelled. I kid you not. Having the freedom to spend nearly $30,000 on 30 people has pretty much ruined any chance I ever had of planning a small, budget friendly wedding. Not that I'm doing that. No pressure honey!

No big plans for the weekend. Softball on Sunday, a little H&M with Em and the family. I'm in the mood to bake some autumn treats for the office on Monday, so I'll try to get around to that. People have requested brownies. I'm beginning to think I'm the only person in the world who prefers brownies from a mix to the real thing. Maybe I just haven't found the right recipe?

The girls are hosting a homecoming party next weekend, so I may need some opinions on which dress to wear from my formative HS years. Pictures to be provided early next week.

So much to do, so little time

Oh hello sad, neglected blog. Miss me? Jota posted more in September than me, and you know I can't have that.

Had a fantastic visit with the moms...no, seriously. I'll add some flickr photos of us having the most fantastic time, promise. Even enjoyed some QT with Aunt S and Uncle D. Maybe there was one awkward moment, but that is significantly better than most interactions with the family.

Right now I'm frantically running around like a crazy person, trying to pull together a corporate off site (Seattle, here I come!), trips to Europe (not mine), oh and finishing my application for pastry school.

Yes, you read that correctly, pastry school. I gave my notice three weeks ago, was promptly offered part time work, and am now deciding if staying is actually worth it. We shall see how that goes. Classes start in January, and I've never been more pumped to spend four hours a day in a sweltering kitchen.

Looking forward to Byn's visit for Thanksgiving, and our trip to Disneyland for Christmas photos with Mickey and Minnie. I recently discovered a new Kitson warehouse across the street from Sprinkles Cupcakes in BH, this my friends is trouble. Orange Cranberry and Ginger Maple are the special flavors while she's here. I'll take those along with some Banana, Peanut Butter Chocolate, and my all-time favorite, Cinnamon Sugar. Byn, are you cool with replacing turkey dinner with cupcakes and Andre?

Cooking for One

Day Four of no Jota and the dishes are clean, I've taken the trash out, and Duff hasn't destroyed anything while I'm at work. I'm getting used to this taking care of myself, by myself thing. I may not be enjoying it, but it's almost over.

Last night I didn't get home until way late, and almost decided to order in. My mom is notorious for grabbing the most random items out of the fridge and making a great meal. So instead of grabbing noodles from Mao's, I crossed my fingers and said a little prayer that her gene for concocting great meals was passed on to me.

And oh did it. After just 15 minutes, I had the tastiest dish ever, or at least this week. I feel it's my obligation to pass on the goodness. Being my mother's daughter, I don't exactly measure things while cooking. Deal with it.

1 boneless, skinless chicken breast, cubed

1 small chinese eggplant, thinly sliced

couple tablespoons of A1 Chicago Steakhouse marinade. Ehhh for steaks. Amazing on chicken.
maybe a 1/4 cup of low sodium chicken broth

3 or 4 tablespoons of ricotta cheese

In your skillet, heat up a teaspoon or two of olive oil while you cube your chicken. Toss that in there, and you know, get it cooked so you don't get salmonella.
Slice your eggplant and salt it to sweat the bitter out.
Pour some of the marinade in your pan, enough to coat the chicken.
Once the chicken is done, toss the eggplant in, and then add the chicken broth.
Simmer until the eggplant is finished, and then toss your ricotta in at the end.

I'm sure this would also be great with some tomatoes tossed in, and served with whole wheat pasta.

Housekeeping...

You want fresh towels?

List of things I need to do soon in no particular order...

1. Add all of my new twitter buddies to my blogroll. That way I will actually read everything and not miss stuff.
2. Give Duff a haircut and a bath. Homeboy needs his flea meds next week and is looking pretty scruffy.
3. Get back on a regular gym habit. Between my birthday, the poison oak, and my laziness, I've totally lost all of my cardio shape. Seriously, I almost puked after 13 minutes on the treadmill last night.
4. Go to Sports Chalet for the following: softball glove, cleats, boxing gloves, spin shoes, and a tennis racquet. Since when did I morph into Sporty Spice?
5. Do some research on eating/cooking vegetarian meals. I'm not giving up steak just yet, but I do heart me some beans.
6. Get rid of the gigantic Ikea desk taking up precious space in the living room. In the process of looking for a chair that converts to some type of bed that's not mad expensive. PS this would be for you Byn!
7. Figure out WTF I'm going to do with Jota gone from Sat to Thurs. I'm trying to not watch all of the shows I dvr'ed (Did I really just use that as a verb?) this week.
8. Lay off the booze for a bit to optimize weight loss. Momma comes to town on the 20th, and sadly I need to look as thin as possible. Especially since she's bringing all of my HS homecoming/prom dresses for the girl's party on the 27th.
9. Try not to get so worked up about the election.
10. Remind myself that just because someone doesn't see that my way is the right way, it doesn't mean they're a freaking idiot. Control freak? Yesthankyouverymuch.

PS, I only discuss politics with Jota because he can't get rid of me. But if you want my opinion, check out my girl Kiah. She says everything I want to say without getting in a flustered huff.

Yeah, that's great...

Yuengling, America's Oldest Brewery



Now why don't you start shipping west of the Mississippi?

Reason # 167 why I can't live alone

You know how they say everyone should experience living on their own once in their life? Not me. I'm no good at being alone. I mean like physically being alone. If left to my own devices, I'd probably become a hermit. A super messy, trashy tv watching, take out eating, wine swilling hermit.

Jota has been out of town for two days, and in that time I...

• Checked the large closet, small closet, and shower 10+ times for crazy men who may have somehow come in through the chained door while I was in the kitchen making dinner.
• Took the trash out for the first time in four months. I almost had to call him to find out where we keep the trash bags.
• Left the recycling in our bin because I have no idea where the big bin is outside.
• Loaded the dishwasher after making dinner. House rule: I cook, you clean. Sweet deal right? Not when it's just me. I'm a messy chef.
• Walked Duff morning and night. Snuggled with Duff morning and night. Stumbled over Duff at the front door while he cried for Jota. Duff is not a one person dog. He's a needy bitch with the ability to drive anyone mad with his incessant need for love.
• Walked to the liquor store to buy tampons, wine, and a pint of Ben and Jerry's.
• Debated calling the cops at 2:00am because the bum kids were smoking pot on the corner. Oh and having dog fights.
• Debated calling Jota at 2:15am because I needed to pee and was afraid to walk to the bathroom "alone".
• Thought up excuses for why I can't bike to a concert at the pier tonight. Winner: "I'm baking for the office in celebration of the holiday weekend."
• Tried on tons of outfits after drinking 1/2 a bottle of Beaujolais, leaving the majority of the clothes strewn around the bedroom.

Once upon a time, long ago, actually almost five years ago, Byn was thisclose to convincing me to move to Tampa for a few months before Jota and I came to Santa Monica. Girl, thank God you dodged that bullet.

It's Happened!

Baby (insert nickname you've been calling him*) Barker is here! Willam James Barker entered our world Sunday afternoon, surrounded by his parents, grannies, and oh about seven different aunties and uncles. Well, not really aunts and uncles, but all of our friends are so excited to share in little Liam's life.

Mommy did a great job, and all of us could not believe she didn't even break a sweat during her 40 mins of pushing. Em looked absolutely beautiful, and we can't help but feel a bit bitter that she made it look so easy! OK, maybe I'm speaking for myself.

Nick made sure to wear his Manchester United shirt in the delivery room, making sure the first thing Liam saw was his beloved soccer team. Judging by the way the little guy kicks and how long his legs are, I'm betting he'll be an amazing little striker.

Sorry for being a bit all over the place, but I'm still in shock that there is an actual BABY in our world. A cute, little, perfect baby. I'm so incredibly proud of his parents, and can't wait to take part in shaping Liam's bright future.


* Parker, Beau-Beau, Doo

Ma Ma I gots the itchies!

Now that I'm a big kid who doesn't live with Mommy and Daddy anymore, I've become a bit of a baby. Well, honestly, I've always been a bit of a baby. I guess I never grew out of it.


For starters, I have a serious fear of needles. Like, complete, inappropriate fear, because really, unless it's a shot in the ass (or elbow) it really doesn't hurt. So ridiculous is my fear that I found it absolutely necessary to tell my new doctor in Santa Monica that if I was going to get blood drawn that I would probably pass out. Well, being the awesome doctor that he is, when I showed up at the blood drawing place, they made a huge show, in front of kids no doubt, "Oh we heard about you. You're the big baby who needs to lie down."


Don't get me started on the girly doctor. I stress myself out so much that I need to take the day off work just to get my annual Pap. Oh, and I've definitely had the doctor ask me to pop two valium before getting there.


Right now, I'm fighting a vicious battle with poison oak. At least I think that's what it is. Wikipedia says that poison ivy doesn't grow in California, Hawaii, or Alaska, and poison sumac doesn't grow west of Idaho. And of course it's true because Wikipedia doesn't lie, and everything you find on the internet is true.*


Anyways, I've got this wicked rash all over my left elbow (not to be confused with the keg injured right elbow), as well as my left calf. And PS, it is nasty. Like, can't even handle touching it when I put medicine on it nasty. How did I get said itchies you ask? I have no fucking clue. Did I go hiking? No. Did I come into contact with any type of bush? No, well unless you count the half dead ferns and wild flowers growing by my front door. Still not poison oak.


Have you ever looked up home remedies for poison ivy/oak? One is bleach. I thought, "Bleach?! Who is fucking dumb enough to put straight bleach on their skin?"


While I'm certainly not dumb enough, I am quite desperate. Thankfully, Jota got me some fancy stuff called Tecnu EXTREME.


"Dude, that is so not extreme."



Sorry, couldn't help letting that one slip. The stuff is amazing! It has these great little scrubbies that allow me 15 seconds of complete and total relief of the itch. Which I need. I hear the ocean helps as well. I guess I know where I will be this weekend.




* so maybe I'm generalizing a bit.

Holy Crikey!

LM is going to spin the last bit of fat off me. Spin is fucking hard. Like my thighs are still quaking, and God only knows what I'm going to feel like tomorrow. On a good note, I am a huge fan of the midday workout!

Now if only I'd remembered to keep an extra pair of undies in my bag. Yes, I went there.

Injured Reserves for a Month

Remember the keg curling incident? Yeah, well when I said my arm was going to hurt all week, I wasn't exaggerating. Except it wasn't a week. It's been two months, and I still can't straighten my elbow without going, "ow, ow, oooowwww!"

I finally took myself to the doctor. Of course I didn't tell him I was doing keg curls, because really, I wasn't in the mood for the alcohol talk. Turns out I strained my tendon and bruised the bone. The doc gave me a cortisone shot (owwwie!), as well as some anti-inflammatory meds to take for a week.

Oh, and no lifting, yoga, pilates, kickboxing, NOTHING for a month. What am I supposed to do at the gym now other than running and legs? I tried going to an abs class on Monday, only to find myself trying not to cry during several minutes of plank. Going to try out spin today at lunch, so hopefully that works out.

The Dark Knight and Koreatown

Last night, Jota hooked it up, and took me to see an advance screening of The Dark Knight with his work peoples at Universal City Walk. First, City Walk is like The Grove on crack. Tons of restaurants, shopping, and a giant theatre, with an explosion of neon lighting thrown in for effect. Definitely a spot to take the parents to experience a "family friendly Hollywood."

Second, The Dark Knight = amazing. Like best movie I've seen in ages. Like totally one that I want to see in the theatre again. I think the last one I did that with was Titanic. Don't judge.

Third, Dark Knight in IMAX = out of this world. It's like I was in the back seat of the Bat Tank. (That buggy is in no way sleek enough to be called the Bat Mobile.)

Fourth, Heath Ledger as the Joker made Jack Nicholson look like an amateur. He was so incredibly disturbing that I found myself trying to hide my face in Jota's shoulder when he appeared on screen.

Fifth, the entire film is quite dark. I may have laughed two or three times, but spent most on the time clinging to Jota and practically jumping out of my seat.

Sixth...oh just go see it on Friday.

Afterwards, we headed to Koreatown with Jota's coworker Jenny and her boyfriend John. A whole car full of J's. I'd never had Korean food, and to say that I was nervous was a bit of an understatement. The menu wasn't in English, so I had to rely on the other J's to recommend something for me. I felt so bratty because I rattled of a list of dislikes. No spicy. No mushrooms. No onions. No peppers. No tofu. Pretty much the whole menu. John ended up choosing this dish that came out piping hot with rice, beef, an assortment of veggies, and a raw egg on top. I'm all like, "Ewwww."

And he's all like, "Don't worry, when you stir it the egg cooks in the bowl, and the rice gets crispy."

Um fuck yeah.

Doggy Sitting

So we watch boss lady's dog, a lot. Like, recently, at least once a month. And that doesn't count the times she "forgets" an important meeting/appointment/outing with a client, and, "Jamie, can you just stop by the house on the way home and take her out?"

No I am not joking. Yes, I advised her to get a cat instead of a dog considering her travel schedule.

So Boo* stayed with us this past weekend. She's just over a year old. Cute little beagle. We've always thought she was kind of dumb. Ok, maybe not dumb, but a bit slow. She's still not potty trained. Crapped all over my kitchen about an hour after we had just taken her out. Didn't even ask to go outside. This happens every time. We always give her the benefit of the doubt, until she fucks up, and then we start treating her like the ugly stepchild.

I want to love Boo. Really I do. I know it's not her fault, but rather boss lady's for not taking the time to give her enough attention and instruction. The fact that Jota and I were very diligent in training Duff only makes it more frustrating. By 4 months he was ringing a bell to go outside. No accidents in this house. No way. When Boo has accidents, we start at zero...crate training. At least she's good about not whining, and by Monday, I think she was actually understanding the concept of going outside. Too bad all of our work is being undone as I type.

* (name has been changed to protect the innocent pooch)

July's half over...

And I've got nothing to show for it. No new goal. Gained 5 lbs. Haven't been to the gym for more than once a week for the past month. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuckitty fuck fuck. Now that I've got that out of my system.

Seriously though, it seems I have no time for anything lately. I'm prepping my little ass off for Em's baby shower, and maybe if I didn't procrastinate in the first place, I wouldn't have to spend 3 hours every night crocheting. I have a freaking cramp in my right wrist, and pinch in my right shoulder, but I'm making the cutest baby blanket around for lil doo.

I've totally hit a wall with my exercising. I'm not exactly bored with the gym, just kind of not feeling like going. Em and I have decided that we're going to take up tennis once she has the baby. Should be fun, except I seriously stink at tennis. It's like there's a permanent hole in my racquet.

So with this lack of gym of course means I've gained a bit of weight back. Boo. I hates. I swear it's so easy to lose weight when it's not summer time. I wake up on the weekends, and it's beautiful outside, and I'm like. "Eww sweating. I want to go lay on the beach all day."

The majority of our friends' birthdays are also in the summer, so it's like every weekend is spent at a BBQ eating burgers and drinking beers. And I'm sorry, but I'm not going to be that girl at a party that doesn't eat because nothing is healthy enough. Fuck that. If we're grilling, I'm eating.

Obviously, I need a new goal. I'm very short term goal focused, and it worked well for me in the past. My new goal for the remainder of July is to get my butt to the gym at least 4 days a week. Not starting this week though because Jota and I are going to see The Dark Knight tonight, and then tomorrow I have to bake a cake.

Chocolate Chip Oat Cookies

My first recipe out of Perfect Baking was choosen out of necessity.  Necessary because a - oatmeal chocolate chip cookies are my go to cookie and b - it was the only one in the book that didn't require me going to the store for extra ingredients.  

Without further ado, here's what they looked like...(I appreciate any tips on photographing food)

I couldn't resist sharing this one though.  Duff looks like he's thinking, "Oh snap!  I almost had it."

I wasn't a huge fan of the cookie, but others, mainly Liz, really liked them.  I found the texture to be a bit too crumbly, they were incredibly dense, and not sweet enough for me.  I also substituted cranberries for the semisweet chocolate.  Keeping the milk chocolate of course!  Will I make them again?  Not likely.      

Because I'm hungover

You know the drill. I'm too lazy to do something original today. Snagged this one from little Miss Wishcake.

What were you doing five years ago?

1. I was 22 (a baby!), living at home with the parents.

2. Dating an asshole and cheating on him every chance I had.

3. Spending the summer flirting like a maniac with Jota even though he had a girlfriend.

4. Deciding not to go back to Radford for my final year of school. Greatest decision ever. The not going back there, probably should still consider finishing school.

5. Working promotions at 98.7 WMZQ. To this day, best job ever.



What are/were five things on your to-do list for today?

1. Plan a trip to Vancouver for work that I should have done a month ago.

2. Go to the gym! I've gained 5 lbs since my birthday. Bad James.

3. Give Duff a bath. Jota is taking him to work one day this week. He was a bit scruffy last time.

4. Get rid of my hangover. Hopefully lunch with LM will help.

5. Make some tasty banana bread before Jota throws out my nanners.



What are five snacks you enjoy?

1. Fruit, fruit and more fruit.

2. String cheese. Yum!

3. Chocolate covered pretzel 100 calorie packs.

4. Greek yogurt with berries.

5. BBQ chips.



What five things would you do if you were a billionaire?

1. Buy one of my dream homes on the Venice Canals.

2. Give a considerable amount to all 4 of my parents. And Jota's parents.

3. Quit my yuck job and get my dream job. Owning my own bakery.

4. Buy my own jet. Fuel prices may be insane, but Duff could fly without having to be crammed under the seat in front of me. And Byn could come visit whenever she wanted.

5. Donate massive amounts to my favorite organizations/charities.



What are five of your bad habits?

1. I procrastinate like a booger. See my to-do list for the day.

2. Biting my nails. They're way pretty right now though!

3. Smoking cigs when I'm wasted. Sorry babe.

4. Getting snotty with Jota when he asks dumb (actually quite normal) questions.

5. I shop way too much.



What are five places you have lived?

1. Union Bridge, Maryland. Born and not really raised. Don't remember anything about this place.

2. Beallsville, Maryland. Down on the farm. Believe it or not, I really did spend the first 23 years of my life on a farm, and somehow escaped learning how to drive a tractor. I think it had something to do with me driving the motorcycle face first into the barn.

3. Radford, Virginia. Dear God, Please let me never return. Oh and thank you for looking after me, because seriously, no one else was.

4. Santa Monica, California. Our first home! Some girl told us to live west of 26th, and north of the 10. We totally took that to heart, settling 11 blocks from the ocean. Now if I were to give people advice, I would say west of 26th unless you're south of Pico, then you want to be west of Lincoln. Or, just move to Venice.

5. Venice Beach, California. Our current abode. Our neighbor Camilla describing it perfectly this weekend, "Our building is like Melrose Place. Only you know, more intelligent, and less slutty."



What are five jobs you've had?

1. Reservationist/Reception at a super posh golf club in town. The 14th hole backs up to the farm and while they were building the course, I had a blast golf carting around the paths. Yes I said golf cart. My parents couldn't trust me with a four wheeler after the barn "incident". I've seen two Presidents and Michael Jordan play golf.

2. Office Manager at Bally Total Fitness. Why someone would give this job to a nineteen year old is beyond me, but whatevs. Not really sure what I did exactly other than boss the front desk girls around and flirt with the lifeguards.

3. Promotions at MZQ. Picture me at the Toby Keith concert at Nissan Pavilion standing on top of an ice cream truck with a mega phone yelling to 25,000 drunken fans, "Hey! Everyone needs to take three big steps back. Ready? One, two, THOSE STEPS AREN'T BIG ENOUGH, Three." Or the crowd favorite, "Show me your tits and Sean will hook you up." I'm a classy one.

4. Nordstrom's during holiday season. I will never work retail again. I did get some sweet deals though.

5. Marketing assistant at an un-named sports agency. Pretty fun I guess. Good peeps, which is nice. Oh and I own more T-Mobile magenta clothing than like, anyone.

The night we slept on the beach...oh and my birthday!

A bit late, but yes! Seeing as my birthday day fell on a Tuesday this year, I got to spend an entire week celebrating. Not that birthdays are ALL about gifts, but my friends are the greatest!

• Emmy Fro got me a great lavender mask, an appletini fizzy bubble bath, and some delicious smelling lotion from Vicky's.

• Boss Lady really surprised me with a gift certificate to Exhale Spa in Santa Monica.



• Jota got me a new i-pizzle, complete with arm band for the gym. He also got me a condom for my phone. Hopefully it will have a longer life than the last one.

• Byn sent me quite possibly the cutest assortment of gifts I've ever received. A cupcake cookbook, a grillz lollipop, grow my own birthday cake, and the cutest little photo album ever!


• Liz hooked me up with a nice rolling pin. Random you might say, but she remembered hearing me say that I usually use a bottle of wine when rolling out my pizza crust. She also gave me a great baking cookbook.


• Jota's parents sent me beautiful flowers to the office. I loved them!

So yes, my friends are the bestest friends in the entire world. Each one of them totally picked out a part of my personality and ran with it. I truly appreciate each and every one of them.  The friends, not the presents.  Gosh, I'm not that bratty.  

The best part of my birthday was Saturday, when we raced cars, putt putted, and rock climbed our way through Mulligan's Family Fun Center in Torrance. It was incredibly hot, but absolutely the most fun I've had in ages!

On the way home, we stopped by Drew and Liz's for a dip in the pool and some margaritas. And some pina coladas, yum. And some beers. We jetted home in time to shower, and meet Annie and Kevin out for some more beers and fun at Hinano. Jota and I left soon after midnight, stopped by Nick's Market to grab a road beer for the walk to Townhouse, but unfortunately never made it. We did however make it to the beach, only to fall asleep on a towel until about 4:00 in the morning. Oops.

What's in your fridge?

A week or so ago, Miss Katelin posted a "What's in your trunk?" blog. Well, my trunk is pretty boring. Puppy gate from puppy sitting. Box of plastic water bottles that need to be recycled. And that's it. My fridge though, that's interesting. So without further ado...

• Some eggy whites, and real eggys too.  Plain eggy whites creep me out, so I need a yolk or two in there.
• Earth Balance - Vegan butter.  An accidental buy at Trader Joe's but I'm kind of into it.  
• I Can't Believe It's Not Butter - For Jota, he's not too sure about the vegan butter.  
• Half and Half for the coffee
• Brita Filter, because while I will swim in Venice water, I certainly won't drink it.  
• Heart's Desire Meatless Chicken Strips.  I'm afraid to try them.  
• Edamame hummus from Whole Foods.  So good.  
• That white tub is my cheese tub.  Shredded cheese, gouda cheese, string cheese.  I heart all cheese.  Except swiss.  Nasty.  
• Champagne Liz brought over from her and Drew's engagement pizza party.  Congrats!
• West Soy Unsweetened Vanilla Soymilk is amazing in my smoothies.  
• Bud.  Wise.  Er.  The king of beers.  
• Club Soda for VD's nasty vodka beverages.  Yes,  she also keeps her own bottle of Seagram's in the liquor cabinet. 
• Spicy Hot V8 that Ben left after making red beers the other week.  
• Jolt Cola.  Free from kickball.  Unfortunately, no one will drink it. 

So what's in your fridge?  Or junk drawer?  

New Feature...Baking!

As you will read in my birthday post (coming up once I add some photos), Liz and Byn both gave me some great baking cookbooks. I plan to try one recipe per week, posting my photos, critiques, and of course mistakes here. Of course I won't post the actual recipe, but I'll let you know the titles in case you'd like to play along.

So Jota...you better get to band practice! Or maybe I can bake on the day you have soccer, and you can have band practice the next day? That way you can take some yummies for the boys. Then we can call you The Cupcakes, or The Cupcake Effect...or something like that.

Jotas Go Green

These past few weeks, I've had mini heart attacks every time I spied the prices at the Arco station on Pico and 4th, the cheapest gas station in Santa Monica. Their gas is $4.55/gallon. It's $4.79 at the place on Santa Monica and Lincoln. Seeing as I'm bopping around town in a Ford Escape that barely gets 13 miles/gallon, this is becoming a bit of an issue with my wallet. This time last year, I was spending $40 each visit to the pump, twice a month. That's $80 a month on gas, and let's add an additional $20 to make a round $100. Not too shabby. Of course it helps that my office is five miles from home and I pretty much refuse to drive anywhere on the weekends.

Flash forward a year, and thanks to Mint.com, I can see my petrol spending is now up to $150 a month. Combine that with an increase in the price of flour, fruit, veggies, and pretty much everything beside fish, because fishies don't eat grains, making them more affordable, however there's that whole high in mercury problem, so you shouldn't eat it more than once a week, and hello, my three percent raise in January is doing nothing to cover these increases, and who cares about the ten percent bonus at the end of the year, because that shit is not helping me now. Thank God for rent control.

So in a effort to save some green (meaning money and the environment), Jota and I spent some time this weekend discussing the little changes we can make. Taking a cue from little miss Ashley, here's our plan:

• Biking everywhere we can on weekends. My little wheels were all over town on Saturday. Helping the Barker's move, going to chill on Main St. Note to self, even though legs are the motor, it might be best to not bike while completely and totally sloshed. Accidents do happen.
• Buy Jota a basket for his bike so we can run more household errands.
• Reusable grocery bags. We have two from Albertson's, however we rarely use them. We do at least re-use the paper bags to collect our recycling in.
• Smaller, more frequent grocery trips. I'll admit it, we waste food. I'll forget that we have squash or berries, and I find them all moldy in the fridge when I go to unpack the new groceries. We're going to try shopping for one meal at a time, and stock all the essential staples.
• Farmer's Market! We need to start going to the Venice Market as well as visiting local shops like Winward Farms.
• Stop buying non-recyclable plastic. Bolthouse Farms, I heart your carrot juice, but you're out.
• Use biodegradable soaps. I already have these for the dishwasher (bad, but we don't run it everyday), I need to look into dish and body soap.
• Eat vege. This will be a toughie. I grew up on a cattle farm, and love me some beef. And bacon. And chicken. I am going to try and find other protein options to supplement our diet.

We shall see how this goes!

A Secret Admirer?

Yesterday evening I decided to bike up to Main Street and get a mani pedi before meeting all of our friends out for the night.  It was just a tad chilly, the sun was shining, an absolutely perfect solo jaunt on little Miss Betsy (that's my bike's name.)  Walking out of the nail salon, I decided that I needed to move my bike closer to the bar area of Main Street, a couple blocks down.  In my basket, I found this...

Hi my name is Will and you rode by me today and I thought you looked so beautiful that I wanted to introduce myself...But you went into a shop before I could make a fool of myself.  I don't know how to convince you to call me, so I will leave it up to chance.  So...you can flip the coin to see if you should call...If not just know someone noticed the "light" around you!

So I'm thinking, really?  The only person I remember making eye contact with before walking inside was a father out for ice cream with his little girl and wife.  If he wasn't in the immediate area where I parked, how far did he follow me for, and how did I not notice that I was being followed?  

All creepiness aside, that little note was quite the confidence builder.  I would have called if it weren't for the coin business.  Yes, he left a quarter in the note.  I wonder if he knows he just paid for a third of a load of laundry?  

Da obviously found the notion romantic or at least intriguing enough to text the fellow, "My friend is taken, however I have a light of my own."

His response, "Not surprised!  Love is always worth risking something for though!  lucky guy...I hope it is awesome for her...Good thoughts and thanks for writing to tell me."

Dude does not even realize the hotness of Da that he just missed out on.  

Yes, I was on the booze last night.  No, I did not blackout.  I did however, have a rough time getting started on the bike ride home.  Maybe I did need that burrito.  

Baking my Little Heart Out

When Jota and I first moved to Santa Monica, we only had each other. Seriously, we had no friends. Until we got Linus McDuff of course. Then we were constantly bombarded by crazy dog ladies, but that's another post all in itself.

Being an avid soccer player, Jota set out to find some local pick up games and teams. This is where he met his first friend, Nick Barker. Nick invited us over to his apartment for a BBQ on Memorial Day weekend in 2005, and the rest is history. Soon we were gallivanting around town with Nick and Emily, and more friends to follow.

On the nights Jota played soccer, I found myself with nothing to do. See, unfortunately, Emily worked nights at the hospital. Totally awesome when I didn't have to be in the office until 1:00pm. We'd spend many a morning watching reruns of Dawson's Creek and eating chocolate chip pancakes. However, it totally sucked in terms of watching shitty reality tv and Desperate Housewives.

To pass time, I resorted to baking. First it was always my oatmeal chocolate chip pecan cookies. Then homemade Milanos, coconut kisses, applesauce muffins, etc. While Jota appreciated the baking, it was the men at the office who really loved the goodies. Before long, our CEO was asking, "Doesn't your boyfriend have a soccer game this week?"

When I started in a new division last year, the baking began to slack off. Pretty soon, it was only for birthdays. And then only the people I liked.

Last week, I had an epiphany. Jota and the boys have band practice once a week. I should start baking again! And baking I did. Em's baby shower is coming up in July, so I needed to test a recipe. This recipe is amazing. Red velvet cake seriously creeps me out, and I still love it. While mine may not be as perfectly pretty, I still think they're pretty damn cute.

Em, I better get some excited kicks from Doo!

Best.Weekend.Ever.

Ok, maybe a slight exaggeration, but seriously one of the best weekends in a while. Friday night I dashed out of work to see Sex and the City with the girls. Everyone came dressed as their favorite character, which ended up being super cute. I had this great plan to wear a black backless dress with heels and a blue wig (you know, because Samantha wore a pink one when she had cancer...), but unfortunately I was stuck way late at work for stupid reasons. So I was all bitter, and nearly in tears (hello crazy), but it's ok because the dress I wore to work looked just like the dress Carrie wore in the book reading scene. Only less puffy around the neck.


Saturday morning Jota and I lazed around in bed with the Duff until 11 or so. Later in the morning we took off on our bikes, and headed to the Promenade for some shopping. Jota got some new sunglasses, and I found a super cute navy eyelet dress that was 50% off! Afterward, Barker met up with us for lunch at Barney's, where we got a super primo spot on the front of the patio. I seriously could have sat there all day. That is until a pigeon flew into the side of my head. Little fucker. That night we went out with Da and Kel for Laura's birthday. Sports Harbour is usually not my kind of bar, but when you're knocking back the Shirley Temples, nothing is more exciting than games! Played some Pop-a-Shot, watched some shuffle board, and almost got around to pinball, but ran out of quarters.


Sunday morning was a repeat of Saturday. Slept in late. Woke up without a debilitating hangover. Amazing. Ended up biking over to the marina to go to Kinkos for work. Work on a Sunday? Yes, because some people I work with obviously have a problem with time management. Whatevs. Luckily, DSW was nearby, and I found the yellow shoes I've been yearning for, at 40% off! Seriously, the bargain gods were totally on my side this weekend. Once we got home, I decided to give Duff his summer do. He's clipped super short, with a puffy tail, ears, and feet. Kind of like a circus lion from old cartoons.

Euro 2008 starts tomorrow? Or did it already start this week? Jota, help me out on this one. Either way, we're watching soccer and eating waffles starting at 9am tomorrow morning. I'd like to play some croquet by the beach in the evening. Hint, hint.

PS, I really intended to post this the other day, so obviously I'm way late on this weekend recap bullshizz.

So much to say...But I don't know what

I am not a happy girl. Lately it seems I've set myself on a vicious cycle fueled by booze, blackouts, accusations, hangovers, and apologies. Wash, rinse, repeat. I'm dreadfully angry, inexplicably hurt, lashing out in every direction, and placing blame on everyone but myself.

My first step, no more booze. Hard to believe I would drop the drinking for anything other than dropping a few pounds, but I know it's only making things worse. I'll be 27 in three weeks, and while I love the frat parties, bar cycles, and all day booze bashes at the beach, I'm too old to keep doing this shit every weekend.

Second step, get help. As in professional. Thinking this scares me. Typing it freaks me out. And saying it; makes me tear up.

So new goal? Stop being crazy, and start getting happy. Wow, I sound like a self help book already.

Whose Birthday is Next?

Oh wait, it's mine. Seeing how I was completely obsessed with the salted caramels from Fran's, I HAVE to make these cupcakes!

Such a Brat

DH's roomie made cookies last night, and there is a plate of them on my desk. My desk just happens to be the spot where people know to look for treats because, duh, I like to bake. However, I do not like these healthy, organic cookies on my desk. They're ugly. I don't know what they taste like, but people keep saying they're super sweet. And I do not want people thinking I make ugly, super sweet, organic cookies.

Say What?

So disturbing, but Dude, but I can't turn it off.

Are You Fucking Kidding Me?

First, Happy Friday! Boy am I ready for this beautiful weekend to start. Jota and I are biking down to Hermosa to celebrate three birthdays in what I'm sure will be yet another smashing good time. I will do my best to abstain from keg curls.

Mr. Jota had a rough Thursday, so instead of making dinner, I decided to take my baby to Naked Sushi over on Washington. With our seats on the heated patio, we had a lovely view of the drunkies bouncing between karaoke at the Whaler and 2 for 1 drinks at Cabo. In the middle of our people watching, I notice a girl standing in a metered space, blocking a car trying to park. Now this is Venice. I can tell you first hand that parking is a bitch. I've totally been that girl standing in front of my house waiting for Jota to pull around so he doesn't have to park a mile away. But this was different. This girl would not move. People are screaming at her, she's on the phone with her friends, and finally she moves out of the way to let the car park.

She doesn't stop there. The people in the car walk away, but this girl continues to chill by the car, presumably on the phone with her friends. She's nosing around, trying the handles, enough that the driver comes back over and has a few more words with her. All this time Jota and I are like, "Seriously? Doesn't this girl have anything better to do than be bitter about losing a parking spot? Where are her friends? Isn't she missing out whatever they're doing?"

So she sits down. Chats with some people. Laughs with some people. And then not one, but two fire trucks show up. And an ambulance. And a cop car. This fucking bitch called the cops, claiming she was hit by a drunk driver who broke her leg. The girl had one scratch on her knee that was scabbed over. They carried her off on a stretcher. At this point, I approached the girl driving the car and gave her my contact information to be used as a witness. Because seriously, I'm fucking livid that my tax dollars were totally wasted right in front of my eyes last night.

And yes, I just used "fuck" like 3 times. I'm pissed.

PS see my twitpic of one fire truck.

I iz a Trainwreck

I might have a problem, or two. One of them might be alcohol related. First things first, someone, anyone, take Berry away from me when I drink. Second, should I be worried that lately I black out every time I drink? On second thought, if Berry had not been hanging out in my bra all Saturday, I would have absolutely no idea what happened versus at least having the ability to check my twitter Sunday morning. Wow, that should be an ad, "Twitter, allowing you to black out and still remember your night since 2008."

So what really happened? Kel, Da, and L hosted a frat party at their house Saturday night. The boys played. I did keg curls. Keg curls. Like, curling an empty keg multiple times. I'm not going to be able to lift with my right arm all week. I knocked a table over with a bowl of chips. Picked up the chips, put them back into the bowl and said something to the effect of, "God made dirt, and dirt don't hurt."

I rubbed Em's pregnant belly, a day after saying that I wasn't quite ready for that. PS Em, it's a real cute pregnant belly!

Hung out with DH (Dawn H aka Vodka Dawn or VD for short.) Everything was fine for a bit. I'm not going into specifics, but let's just leave it at words were had. Mean ones. Hateful ones. Ones that made me wake up in the morning thinking, "Fuck. I am a bitch. It all needed to be said, but not in that way. Not in front of everyone."

So DH and I hugged it out over the phone last night. Shit's not all weird at work today. We joked that everyone in our incestuous little group will spend the entire week snickering about the "incident", and waiting to see how we'll act this Saturday in Hermosa. Except it's not really a joke. One of, if not the main point we discussed, is how our group gossips like a bitch. We all do, I do. And it's got to stop. So that's the story, at least what I'm willing to tell.

Mind your Potty Manners

Probably the only thing I will ever read in O Magazine...

Beware the Tinkler

Some girls in my office can't figure out how to flush the paper protectors after they use the toilet. Rude, rude, rude. And filthy. I'd hate to see their house, and that's saying something considering you can't see our bedroom floor right now because it's covered in clothes. We need to do laundry Jota!

New Month, New Goal

Just this morning I was lamenting to Jota that I haven't set a goal for myself this month. Debating what I was going to do, I realized I set this goal on April 1st, with a deadline of my birthday, June 17th. I like this idea of goal setting. In the new year, I have reached every goal I've set. Sometimes it's not in the time frame that I would like it to be, but I've still pushed myself to finish.

Example:
On Sunday, I had some serious anxiety about not being able to complete the 5K, but fear of having to run another to meet my goal pushed me not only across the finish line, but also to run an extra 2K because the course wasn't properly marked.

Hmmm, can I do ten pounds in six weeks? Even if I lose a healthy two pounds per week, that's really pushing it. I guess this means less drinking, better eating, and more cardio. Man, I hate cardio.

Total Moral Dilemma

Logged into the bank account this morning and noticed I have $600 more than I thought. Turns out the US Treasury automatically deposited my "economic stimulus". While I know they want me turn around and spend it, and I really want a new surf board; Jota brought up a point that has me conflicted. Donate to charity. What's a wannabe surfer girl to do?

Guess I need to find a charity, other than myself.

Twitter dee this

Twitter dee that. Lately, I've been using the shit of of my Twitter. Maybe it's because of the berry, or maybe I'm actually starting to embrace technology. Jota, please ignore that second part. I'm still a firm believer that electronics fall under the "Man Jobs" category along with trash and pest removal.

Either way, I've been updating a fool, and even recruited my dear sweet Byn. Along with the updates comes seemingly random additions to my blog roll. Sometimes, when I get bored at work, I just click on random pictures, see if that person has a blog, and if I like their blog, then I follow them. Is that kind of internet stalker-esque?

I've found that I typically follow girls, and the range is far and wide. Some are newlyweds, some engaged, some single, some older, some younger, and some just plain fun. I see a piece of my personality in each one. And while I have no idea who these people are, I feel connected to them and their daily lives.

Goodness, I'm a cheese ball today.

Oh and PS

Goal #1 of the month...reached! Defintely can rock the sz 28 7 for All Mankind denim skirt that Byn gave me 5 years ago. Woot Woot!

Summer Lovin'

I feel I've proclaimed summer is upon us about five times already this year, but here I am again. The first proclamation happened when a car full of high school stoners got arrested on my stoop for hot boxing their car on Venice Blvd. Smart. The second when Robyn came into town, bringing warm breezes and the return of Sunday Funday. The third, our first trip of '08 to Big Dean's and the return of live music on the pier. I was wrong on all occasions. This past weekend was the official start of summer in Venice.

Why now?

One, I went swimming this weekend. In the ocean. At night. With the dog. Obviously alcohol was involved.

Two, Da planned our first Venice to Santa Monica Bar Cycle of the summer. Started at the Whaler, hit Baja, Bar Jota (potty and beer break), James Beach, then Bitburger, Big Dean's, and King's Head. Please see my twitter for random, drunken updates.

Three, Sunday Funday has returned in full force. Le Deb calls on her way to the beach, "Uh, are you home? (pause) OK, good. Can I stop by to use your bathroom? Yeah, I'm like right outside."

After watching the Wizards lose to the Cavs, Jota and I made our way to the beach (south of the big guard tower). It seemed that every 15 minutes or so, someone new showed up. By the end of the day we had about 10 chairs, and 10 blankets sprawled across the sand along with beach toys and gossip mags.

Four, it was fucking hot out. Like 90 hot. It's April people. Venice only gets two or three super hot days a summer, and that's usually in July or August. Jota came home from band practice last night to me, sprawled on the couch in boy shorts and a tank with the fan on high. Even Duff was too hot to snuggle; he was passed out under the coffee table.

Five, I ate the most disgusting shit all weekend. Quesadilla for lunch on Sat, burger and fries for dinner. At least ten beers, one mojito. Smoothie (yeah!) and a Choco Taco for breakfast Sunday. Another burger and fries for dinner with two beers. At least I did Cindy and pilates this weekend. Officially on a detox this week.

I haz an internet stalker

Her name iz Robyn.

Weekend in Review

Since this was our first weekend in April without guests, Jota and I planned on taking it easy. Thursday night I ended up at the gym for nearly two hours with LM. Crazy girl, but she's keeping me on track. Was going to hit happy hour at Sonny McLean's, but was happy to hear Jota wasn't up for it.

Friday was quite the busy one in the office, but I luckily escaped before 7:00pm. Amazing. My first out before 8:30pm on a Friday night in over a month! Score! Came home, made dinner, and hung out with Jota. Nice early night.

On Saturday, Jota had to jet to work for Mahalo Idol. I might have wanted to audition. Ok, I really wanted to audition. But didn't want to get the job only because I was shacking up with Jota Extraordinaire. I ended up chilling with Duff, watched The Princess Diaries 2, then eventually got showered in time for Jota to come home and chill on the stoop with me. Jetted up to Kel and Da's for some old fashioned grilling out. The ladies made delicious looking portobello mushroom burgers, grilled asparagus, and tasty veggie kebobs. There was lots of wine. And Corona. And Newcastle. Eww. And that's sadly all I remember.

Sunday was painful. We planned on spending the day at the Santa Monica Pier for the Green Apple Festival. Made it up there around 4ish? Got some new sneaks at the Promenade, and rallied to have some super sized beers at Big Deans. Missed Ziggy perform, but I heard he sucked and only played four songs. Biking home with the wind and cold was no fun. But I got some unintentional exercise in. Woot woot! Snagged some Chipotle on the way over to Drew and Liz's so the boys could have band practice. Watched Juno with Michelle and Liz, and practically pissed my pants laughing. I can't believe I hadn't seen it! And Jason Bateman, while I do love you, even I was creeped out with your sketchy, dirty old man character.

An Almost Culinary Success

I try not to bitch about work, but having Byn come into town was an issue. Work is pretty lax about taking a day here or there, plus they give us the week between Christmas and New Year's off. So when I submitted my form two months ago and told my boss I would be in town, I thought it was no biggie. I was wrong. Evidently, disclosing my lack of destination meant that I wasn't really on vacation. Meaning that when my boss decided that we were going to fly a candidate in to interview all day Friday, I was expected to come in. When I refused, she pressed for me to at least come in to handle lunch. Fucking bullshit. I flat out said no, resulting in the most awkward and stressful week before vacay EVER. A full week later, and she's still pissed at me.

To solve the lunch "dilemma" I asked a co-worker to sign for the delivery, and make sure that it was actually one time. She awesomely also did her best to keep my staff on track with interview times.

As a thank you, I made her this beautiful recipe that I found on Smitten Kitchen. I did the basic lemon/blueberry combo, adding an extra 1/2 teaspoon of vanilla and lemon zest. I have these super cute cupcake boxes that Em gave me, so I made muffins. No pictures from me though, I forgot to rinse my wild blueberries, and ended up with the dreaded purple muffin. At least her kids will appreciate the color.

Summer is here!

And I'm celebrating with a new 'kini! Super model not included.

Real Life with Byn and James

Byn: i want to come back. im over school already. find a way for me to get there.

James: it's called pack your shit up and move here. take 40 - w to 10 - w the entire way.

Byn: man i wish i could. i love your blog. it really entertains me in class which i greatly appreciate. I do think i should be mentioned more often. thats just my personal opinion though. it is sooo nice here today. back to the warm weather, which could be my last love of southwest florida. i think i am meant to be in venice. im scared that by the time i get there you and j will be married with 10 kids livin in the burbs, and not the burbs of LA.

James: Gross, do we really look like burbs people? You know our kids are destined to skate on the corners with the bums and have long, sun bleached hair.

Afterthought: Ten kids?! Bitch please, I can only imagine one. If I have a girl, I'll try one more time, and that's it. Plus, we all know I'm a bit too self centered to even think about having kids in the next five years. And it can't take five years for your ass to finish school and move out here. You can live in my closet.

PS - for a student specializing in English, you need to work on your contractions. LOVE YA!

Recovering, Barely

Just dropped Byn off at the airport for her trip back home to Tampa.  Really wish she would just pack her shit up and move out here.  It's great having someone around other than Jota that I can be my 100% obnoxious and bratty self without having to feel apologetic.  I mean, I'm not always super bitchy; it's just nice to be understood and not judged for it sometimes.  

Seriously hurting this afternoon though.  We somehow thought it would be a great idea to sit on the stoop last night with the neighbors and  drink three bottles of champagne, and ten beers.  And that was just for us. Needless to say, but I'm going to say it anyways, I have some serious working out to do this week in order to get myself back on track. 

I didn't set a goal for April, so I will now.  Two goals.  Big time.  One, I want to be able to wear a size 28 pant.  My weight loss is slowing, but I'm definitely losing inches now.  Sweet!  Two, I need to get my ass in gear to train for the Santa Monica Classic that I'm running on May 4th.  I want to run the entire 5k.  It may not sound too hard, but I have serious troubles running a mile on the treadmill.      

Some women can eat all the cake and ice cream they want, and never gain a pound

They are called bitches.

I saw my friend Annie the other night for the first time in ages, and I must say my heart gave a flutter when she said, "You look skinny. How much weight have you lost? How did you do it?"

It's true, I do look skinnier. I am skinnier. I've spent the past two months working my ass off, and it just starting to show that I've dropped almost 20 pounds off my short frame. My goal is another 10 - 15 pounds by my birthday, June 17th...mark that down.

So how have I done it? The hard way. The not so fun way. The old fashioned way. Diet and exercise. Spark People is pretty much the most amazing diet tool ever. DH introduced me to it's online food journal which charts anything you want. I currently track carbs, fat, protein, and fiber. I need to add sodium to that mix, but keep forgetting. Fixing my diet was the first step towards getting healthy. You can't really lose weight when you're chomping down burgers, fries, and quesadillas right? I watch my breads, and always go for the whole grains. The majority of my carbs come from fruits and veggies, because I try to eat the recommended amount everyday. It's harder than you might think.

A typical day's worth of food:

Breakfast

2 eggy cups

1 piece of fruit (ie plum, apple, orange)

Smoothie, made with frozen fruit, diet V8 juice, and fiber powder. I need to find a protein powder that's not all chalky.

Lunch

leftovers from dinner the night before

3 oz (picture a deck of cards) salmon/chicken/beef

1/2 cup roasted asparagus/broccoli/squash

Snacks

2 per day

light string cheese

1 oz almonds (Trader Joe's sells them unsalted, in individual packs)

3 tbs greek yogurt (high in protein, low in fat and sugar) mix approx 1/2 cup of fruit in with yogurt (berries, grapes, pomegranate seeds)

1/2 cup of edamame (good fats, lots of protein and fiber)

Dinner

3 oz salmon/chicken/beef

1/2 cup to a full cup roasted veggies

roasted potatoes/rice (these are for Jota, but I occasionally have some)

Dessert

sugar free popsicles

TCBY or Pinkberry if you're lucky like me!

more fruit (add splenda if necessary)

hot chocolate

tea

sugar free jello pudding cups (not just for Bill Cosby!)

Exercise wise, I'm still a bit lazy. It helps that my gym is in the building I work at, so I don't really have an excuse not to go. If I'm feeling particularly lazy, I force myself to do 20 minutes on the treadmill, and then I can leave. Usually I end up doing a little more, or lifting weights, but there have totally been some days where I counted down the seconds to 20 mins, and then quit. But that's better than nothing!

James' exercise schedule:

Monday/Wed/Fri

20 mins on treadmill

work abs

super sets with arms, shoulders, and squats

stretch

15 mins on bike

Tues/Thurs

30 mins on treadmill/bike/combo

mat pilates

stretch

Sat/Sun

walks with Duff and Jota

Kickball is on either a Tues or Weds, so I usually don't get any workout that day. However, the other night I biked with my flat ass tires to the game, bar, and home again. My thighs were quaking in bed.

Dating Cindy Crawford

Feeling lazy? Need that extra push? Go buy this workout DVD. My arms are so sore, putting on eyeshadow and mascara was a major accomplishment this morning. I'm planning on having a weekly date night with Cindy when Jota is at band practice or has a soccer game. No way I'm letting him see me flopping around the house doing lunges with kicks.

Speaking of the band, the boys played at Rusty's Surf Ranch on the Santa Monica Pier last night. Good times. I'm thinking Sunday Funday this summer is going to start at Big Dean's.

An Egg-cellent Start to the Day!

My favorite (read: current) breakfast food

3 whole eggs + 1 carton of egg whites - I know they're healthy and all, but plain egg whites creep me out. I need some yellow color.

12 slices of turkey bacon - Again with the healthy stuff. We all know I LOVE bacon, but a girl can only take so much fat.

1 cup shredded cheese - cheddar, swiss, whatevs (full fat, I DO NOT skimp on cheese.)

1 package frozen chopped spinach, thawed and drained *

1/4 cup of water

* substitute black beans, lentils, mushrooms (gross), anything you might put in an omelet or quiche.

Mix everything together, pour into greased muffin tins, and bake at 350. Not sure for how long, but keep checking until they're done. Cool, and then freeze/refrigerate for future use. I microwave frozen eggy cups for 30 second increments.

These are a great source of protein and fiber depending on the ingredients you use.

Little Ghetto by the Sea

 A year ago Jota and I moved from our cookie cutter, north of Pico, Santa Monica neighborhood, to beachy, artistic, and definitely eccentric, Venice Beach. A block west lies the beach, the Venice Canals are a block south, and just a few blocks east is Abbott Kinney Blvd, full of quirky little shops. Our quaint building is situated right on of the busiest intersections in the area for the summer. There's no sleeping in on a Saturday when a bike gang rolls up Venice Blvd at 8:00am.

My new hardwood floors lack shine and luster from years of sand being tracked inside, and I've all but given up trying to sweep up every last bit in the summer. While our shower has slightly better water pressure than my mom's house (read: a trickle), it's attached to a super deep claw foot tub, lovingly restored by our kooky landlord. Despite the kitchen reaching sweltering temperatures while I'm cooking, I've devised a pretty sweet cooling system using the oven vent, the back door, a baby gate, a swiveling fan, the front door, and both ceiling fans; allowing us to eat, play quarters, and sometimes sleep (Juan!) in our cozy breakfast nook. I wouldn't trade my new home for the world. Well, maybe for an additional 100 square feet, or a parking space.

However the neighbors, have got to go. Now, I don't mean Dave & Amanda, the other cute little couple from Maryland. Or Mykee and Jordan, with their little beagle mix Rainbow. Not even Saneechee (I spelled that phonetically), who is by far the coolest neighbor ever. I'm talking about the bums.

When Jota and I moved to Santa Monica from Maryland, we were shocked by the homeless population. But think about it...if you're going to be homeless, wouldn't you want to be where it's warm? These homeless people just go about their day, take their meals from the volunteers along Ocean Ave, shower down by the beach, and sleep on the sand.* Yes, you get the occasional nutjob that runs up and down the street screaming (or singing depending on the day), "Die bitch die!" No joke. But for the most part, the homeless in Santa Monica are a peaceful bunch.

Venice, is a bit different. They're younger, well dressed (ie clean North Face coats, Merrill hiking boots), beg you for money, weed, booze, and scream obscenities at you when you ignore their 'Will work for weed or sex' sign. They take off their shirts and play drunken fight club in the parking lot next to my house. They harass our neighborhood to no end, often resulting in police sirens and helicopter searches late into the night. They piss and shit behind our giant trash bins where my lovely neighbors who are lucky enough to have a parking space keep their car. So now we have to keep our trash locked in our common area. Our landlord had to cancel our recycling. There's no more room for another bin, because where would everyone put their bikes? And that is ridiculous. We are recycling fools.

Which is why when I checked the mail the other day, and noticed that one of these hooligans decided to stash his knapsack in the bushes by my house...I threw it away. In our garbage cans locked behind a 10 foot fence. I considered leaving a note along the lines of, "Don't leave your shit here", but decided that starting a turf war with the belligerent vagrants wasn't in my best interest.  

Those are Cheetos, Honey Bun, and Reeses wrappers left on my front stoop.  There were also Rice Krispies and Lay's wrappers in my shrubs.  I'm guessing someone scored their weed and got the munchies on my porch.  

*I know I am generalizing here, but I'm trying to paint a picture where there's a distinct difference between our experience in Santa Monica, and that of Venice.