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.

The End Has Come

I'm officially over junk food. Read that again, slowly. Last night, Jota and I went out to dinner with our weekly roommate (Kusi) to Danny's Deli. Unable to just stick with a salad, I opted for the Philly cheese steak with carmelized onions. Wouldn't you? It was damn good, and yet so filling that I could only eat half of it. I'm thinking to myself, "Look at you, going out to eat dinner, and only indulging a little bit. Yeah that's right."

Unfortunately at 5:30 this morning, my tummy was telling me, "Bitch, don't you ever eat that junk again! You think I'm angry now? Eat the rest of that sandwich for lunch today and I'll really let you know how I feel."

I left the house this morning with my excellent eggy cups (recipe and photos eventually) and no lunch in tow. Determined to get back on the healthy track, I offered to order in from California Vegan for a few girls on my team. Forty minutes later, I sign for the check, and bound to the kitchen to divvy up the goods. Pad see eew and soy chicken satay for me, veggies for the unadventurous, and wait...FOUR orders of pad thai?! I call them back up and explain, "I think there was a mistake. See when I asked for 'a full order of pad thai', I think you thought I said four orders of pad thai."

"Uh, that what you order. I repeat back 'four order pad thai', and you say yes".

"Yes, you're right. I understand that. But you see I thought you said 'full order pad thai'. Which is why I agreed with you."

"So what is problem?"

"The problem is I have three extra orders of pad thai, which normally wouldn't be a problem if they had shrimp and not soy fish in them, meaning no one else is going to eat them. I need you to take them back because my boss is breathing down my neck for spending $90 on lunch from a strip mall."

"Ok, you bring back and we refund."

I felt shitty, shitty, shitty. You know they just threw that food away. And the poor woman who took my order was all worried about her boss finding out that she made a mistake. I tried to explain there was no fault on either of us, it was simply a misunderstanding. A misunderstanding that required them to refund me $30. And this is why I hate being an assistant in LA.

You Can't Drink All Day if You Don't Start in the Morning

Jota and I are old balls. For the first time in all my drinking years, I did nothing for St Patty's Day. Didn't call in sick to work, didn't slam an Irish Car Bomb, didn't chug green beer, and certainly didn't wear my "Irish Whiskey Makes Me Frisky" shirt.

I actually ended up at the gym, worked my tushie off (seriously, it's getting smaller), and then came home to make dinner. Debated meeting up with Kel and Da at Finn McCool's on Main Street, but upon hearing the line was around the block, decided it was not meant to be.

The next time St Patty's Day falls on a weekend is 2012. I will be 30. Yikes.

Kusi is in town again. Why did that kid move to Boulder? He should have stayed here, and commuted there. Just stole your joke J.

Because I'm bored and hungover

Sipping on some Sunkist with crushed ice! And making a picture essay. Enjoi!

1. What is your relationship status?


2. Who is your celebrity crush?


3. Who is your favorite band?


4. What is your favorite movie?


5. What kind of pet do you have?


6. Where do you live?

It looks so clean from far away.

7. What do you do at work?


8. What do you look like?


9. What do you drive?


10. What’s your favorite TV show?


11. Describe yourself.


12. What’s your name?


13. What’s your favorite candy?

Family Dinner

Starting this past Christmas, Kel and Da decided that we should try and do family dinner every once in a few. Say food and I'm there! So of course I showed up to Hanukkah rip roaring drunk. It was Em's fault I swear. Thankfully I redeemed myself at New Year's dinner, keeping my wine consumption to a minimum.

Since our previous two dinners were at Casa de BK Broilers, I opted to host in our small abode sometime in Feb. Noticing that there seemed to be a theme for each meal, I pronounced mine to be cheese and bacon. If you know me, you know that cheese and bacon are like their own food group. And I wonder why I need to lose a few lbs?

The Menu:
Bacon Wrapped Dates Stuffed with Parmesan

Four Cheese Macaroni with Pancetta (gruyere, cheddar, gouda, and fontina)

Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Pancetta

Beef Tenderloin with a Red Wine Sauce (no bacon or cheese here, unfortunately)

Chocolate Bread Pudding with Vanilla Bean Ice Cream (not here either, boo)

I think we all unbuttoned our pants at the table that night.

Now don't go thinking this is a typical dinner in the Jota household. We usually stick with chicken or fish with a veggie. Maybe a rice or potato, but that's not too often.

Last night we hosted again, and in honor of St. Patty's Day and my Irish roots, Jota helped me make dinner. What I mean is, he turned the crock pot on.

The Menu:
Fruit and Cheese Platter - including strawberries, grapes, starfruit, brie, chevre, and gouda.

Corned Beef with Cabbage and Potatoes

Brown Sugar Glazed Carrots

Spinach Salad with Grape Tomatoes, Avocado, and Balsamic Vinaigrette

Four Leaf Clover Sugar Cookies (Jota's mom sends us sugar cookies for every holiday. We got bunny and tulip shaped ones too.)

Afterwards, we jetted across the street to Cougar, I mean James Beach. From Urban Cougar...

"James Beach is a cougar landmark on the west side of Los Angeles. All wet-behind-the-ears cougar hunters would be well served to cut their teeth at this cougar institution. James Beach specializes in the Cadillac cougars that are on the fulcrum of becoming Trans-Ams. The crowd is usually solid and the after-parties are flowing. With an outdoor deck the Trans-Ams can be observed in their natural environment: cigarette in hand, mini-skirt, a tan that is 4 years shy of leather and a nose for partying. If all else fails, James Beach has the best French fries in the city and, oh yeah, my friend Daryl lives right around the corner."

Now, I don't know who Daryl is, but evidently he's practically my neighbor. Da was immediately pounced on by a manther, telling her, "You're the hottest bar in this bar." He then showed off his bling bracelet, and sulked away once she pointed out that it was CZ.

And that's pretty much where the story stops. Well, it's where it all gets too fuzzy for me to even try and re-tell. But we had fun. Lots of it. And we're doing Edward Forty Hands tonight. Liz is going to be the official pant unzipper-er.

I heart...

• Washington Post Wednesdays - I'm a bit obsessed with Miss Manners.


• Snuggling in the morning with Jota and Duff.


• Snuggling anytime with Jota and Duff.


• Summers in Venice.


• Winters in Venice.


• All the times in Venice.


• When people come to visit. Kusi's in town tomorrow night and then Byn in 3 weeks!


• Listening to Jota talk about the band and playing bass.


• Theme parties!


• Discovering that I actually enjoy exercising, and sweating isn't that bad. (Jota, you did not just read that.)


• That it takes more time for me to put my makeup on than it does for me to do my hair.


• Day light savings. No more walking Duff in the dark after work!


• Maryland crab cakes, crab dip, crab saute, crab imperial...Just call me Bubba, or Bubb-ette I guess.
• Yuengling. Someone send me a case please.


• Vacations. This girl seriously needs one.


• Meeting new people.


• My new kickball team.

Baby Barker

Went with Em to her sonogram, and heard little doo. You'll have to ask to hear my impression of the heartbeat, but I can try to describe. Think of a cheesy club beat, you know "mmmbbbb chee, mmmbbbb cheee, mmmbbbb cheee." Add in a little "whoosie" before each "mmmbbbbb" and you get a "whoos mmmbbbb chee, whoos mmmbbb chee, whoo mmmbbbb chee." No? I'll have to do it for you.

Her doctor also said that he'd buy dinner if I'm in the delivery room. Em is going to want tuna. So I guess that means we're getting sammiches from Bayside.

Unintentional Venice Bar Crawl

Friday:
Went out to sushi with Kusi, Doug, Lauren and Jota. Did my first sake bomb. Saw Suge Knight. Took a pic of his car for fear of being shot if caught taking a picture of him. Had long debate with boys on whether or not it was actually Suge Knight.

Girls: "Dude, that's totally Suge."

Boys: "Are you sure? Wait, let me Google Images him."

Girls: "Look at the beard! It's him! It's him!"

Boys: "Don't point, he might see you! But seriously thought, don't you think he'd be more jacked? He just got out of prison."

Girls: "Whatevs, we're telling everyone we saw him."

Moved on to Cabo Cantina where we proceeded to take over a table on the balcony with the fire pit. Ordered two rounds of tequila shots, and ended up playing speed quarters for a good hour with our plastic shot glasses. Got tab, realized that when you tell waitress, "Bring us a round of tequila" she will upgrade you to Patron without even asking. Sure it was smooth going down, but I would have been fine with rail. Guess I know to specify next time. However, Jota tells me Cabo only serves Patron! WTF kind of mexican bar is that?

Stumbled out of Cabo, only to dart across Washington to the world famous Hinano. Split a pitcher, met up with the Barkers, decided to move on. Popped into Nick's Market next door to grab some road beers for the walk to Townhouse. Tapped the Rockies. Practically died laughing while watching Kusi race Lauren, and then Jota down Speedway. He pulled his hammy. Sorry Kus!

Amazingly gained entrance into Townhouse, only to leave with Jota after finishing my beer. I hear the kids rallied on to Nicki's.

Saturday:
Inner Monologue - It's 7am, and who's at my door? Fuck! Forgot Kusi was coming over to watch the Arsenal game. Will just stay in bed and let Jota entertain him. Oh, and now Barker's here? Shit! Where are my clothes?

"JOTA, BRING ME CLOTHES! MAKE ME COFFEE! COME ON, YOU LOVE IT!"

Wait, am I still drunk? Am definitely still drunk. Was texting with Bee Gold last night? At 4am? Chicago time right? No? LA time? What was I doing up at 4am? Did I have more beers? Must check recycling to see once I need more coffee.

Went to see The Other Boleyn Girl with Em. Good movie, would be better with more sex. Really just need more naked Eric Bana. Would it have killed them to include a shot of his ass?

Gave Jota a mohawk.

Went to Texas Loosey's for Liz's birthday dinner. Had yummy pulled pork with mac n' cheese. Got a cute little drink called a 'Kick Ass' that came in a cute little boot. Have three boots at home now! Moved on to The Rustic Lite for karaoke. Watched the boys do a humorous rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody. Went home early because really, I went out a bit too hard the night before.

Sunday:
Chilled. Went shopping with Jota. Grilled out at Kusi's crib. Missed out on volleyball and croquet because of stupid traffic.

The week in review

Happy Leap Day! Nothing exciting happening over here. Just some working, working out, drinking, and sleeping.

• Speaking of working out, it's the end of the month, and unfortunately I'm a pound away from my goal of 145. Boo, yes. But Woot! my skinny jeans fit! (As in my small jeans, not skinny leg jeans, because that is one trend you will never catch this girl in.) I just gave all of my too small pants to pregnant Em, and I might have to ask for some back. Ok, actually only the blue ones...please?I'm still pounding away on the treadmill in an effort to reach my March goal of 140.
• I've had a horrible pinch in my right shoulder for the past week. I actually think it's hurt from me awkwardly sleeping on it when I'm trying to spoon Jota. We decided to try switching bed sides, in a effort to give the pinch a rest. While that idea sounds all fine and dandy, I'm actually sleeping worse. Probably because when I roll to my right to snuggle Jota, I smack my head on his nightstand, and practically roll off the bed. That and now my left shoulder is hurting from spooning to the opposite side. The troubles I have.
• Went to drinks last night with Kate in celebration of...nothing really. She suggested this new bar that just opened on Main Street, called Main on Main, creative bunch, really. The inside was super cute with a nice secluded VIP area, and a great dance floor. We could really envision a sweet girls night out with lots of drinks, laughter, and booty shaking. Oh, and we really had to use our imaginations, because it was completely dead. I mean, we were the only two people there until Jota showed up, then Shilpa, and then Kusi, Doug, and Ben.
• This weekend we're taking Duff to Runyon Canyon, hitting up The Griddle for brunch, and celebrating Liz's birthday with a healthy dose of karaoke!

It's the gym, not a peep show

I've spent the last two or three weeks working my ass off in the gym trying to reach my end of Feb goal. It's definitely paying off, and starting to show, to me at least. I've graduated to the treadmill, have increased my weights/reps, and oh you know, went down a pant size in a month.

I love the convenience of the gym in my building, not to mention the sweet locker room with amazing showers, a sauna, and whirlpool. 24 Hour Fitness Santa Monica, take note. What I don't love is the nakedness. I'm no prude; hello Big Bear '07 trip, but seriously ladies, put some freaking panties on before you bend over to lotion up your legs. Try a tank top, or at least a bra before you go to blow dry your hair and put your makeup on. Oh, and don't lay on the side of the whirlpool with your feet propped up on the railing so the first thing I see when exiting the shower is your nasty whoo-ha. It's called wax, use it.

And dudes who stand in the corner and actually POINT at my ass while talking to their buddies, fuck off. There are mirrors all the way around the free weight room. You think I can't see you?

With only one week left in the month, and three pounds to go, I think I need to be off the booze for the weekend. Unfortunately I don't think that's going to happen. Juan, aka John Martin, is moving back to New Orleans, and we're having a karaoke blowout at the Prospector in Long Beach tonight. You can't go to the LBC and not drink, or pour a little out for the homies. So I guess it's vodka sodas and lime all night long.

Rain Rain Go Away

Because seriously, I was going to run the stairs today. And tomorrow.

I guess I'll just go to the gym. Maybe try the kickboxing class? Only because I really want the pink wraps and gloves!

Obligatory Valentine's Day Post

Oh you pointless day of love, romance, and all things cheesy. Instigator of over-priced dinners, boxed chocolates, nasty conversation hearts, and cuddly stuffed bears. You'd think I would be in a sea of pink and red bliss, but no, I am a hater of Valentine's Day.
So bring on President's Day! Half price chocolates! Dinner that's not prix-fixe and prepared the night before. Barney's Warehouse Sale! And of course, luvin' from my Jota.

A Khaki Mission

J Crew, mecca of all things preppy, you have failed me.  Banana Republic, you too.  American Eagle, I'm almost too old to shop with you anymore, except for shoes.  Love your flats!  Gap, we've never gotten along.  Probably because pretty much every bottom you've ever made looks absolutely heinous on me.  

Anthropologie, you're an angel.  The only store on the Promenade  that carries a basic, bootcut khaki.  Hell, you're the only store that has something other than low rise, wide leg trousers or super duper high rise, tapered at the ankle chinos.  And for that, I thank you.  

Love and Golf?

While the rest of my team is out in NOLA having a blast at All Star, I've been left; home alone, all by myself in the office.  Rather than spend the next week playing Tetris and chatting with Jota, I volunteered to help out another team with the Northern Trust Open here in LA.  Sadly, the weather was not cooperating this morning, and I'm just in from freezing my booty off at the first tee.  But there is a silver lining to this little gray cloud...I met Sergio Garcia.  As in Sergio Garcia the golfer I've been in love with ever since the first day I had to watch an open in the clubhouse while working my first job.  Over the moon I am.  

Shake That Bear Mountain

The 2nd Annual Shake That Mountain Trip was a success! No nudity, no debilitating hangover, lots of fun and games, and plenty of laughs were had all weekend long.

Da, Kel, and I shook the shit out of the mountain while skiing this weekend. I did my first double black, and didn't have to slowly go from side to side either. I guess it helped that I was on 120s (munchkin skis!)...but whatevs, it was a terrific, gratifying day. Top the excellent snow with a dip in our hot tub back at the cabin, and you get a happy James.

My only fall, ok fine, there were 3, but 2 don't count because...The first was at the very bottom of the hill before the lift lines. Jota always beats me to the bottom, and I love how he turns around to watch me come down. The second happened while getting off the lift with Jota and Murph. I somehow managed to get one ski under each of their boards. And they both exited opposite ways. I almost did the splits. My last fall was on the very last run of the day. It was just me and J, and he's quite swift, especially when I'm on the munchkin skis. I decided to totally bomb the last part, and starting shredding like a mad woman. Definitely ending up losing all control, flipping over onto my back, and sliding a good 50 feet. Mmm, cold snow down my pants and up my shirt.

Favorite part of the trip: Sneaking kisses and snuggles with Jota on the lifts.

Worst part of the trip: The freaking drive up there! It took us over an hour to get past downtown, and that's only 12 miles away!
Duff definitely enjoyed himself as well. Begging for food to his little heart's content, and sleeping the entire way home.

Over the river, and through the woods

I'm off to Big Bear this afternoon for some much needed chill time.  These past two weeks have been insanely stressful.  I've found myself nearing tears in the office, screaming at Jota for eating the last english muffin, and getting frustrated with Duff for, well, being Duff.  And how can I get angry at a face like this?

I haven't been sleeping well, ok fine, at all.  In all honesty, I can't even begin to understand where all of my anxiety is coming from.  The only good that's come out of this is the fact that my appetite is all but gone.  Which also freaks me out to say because no one wants "Crazy Diet College James" to come back.    

So Big Bear, here I come.  You better be full of wonderful powder, and your runs had better be kick ass.   

PS new goal: 145 by the end of Feb.  And then I'm only 5 more away from pre - CA James.  

The week in preview

Started off the week right with a wonderful dinner of steaks, roasted asparagus, and fingerling potatoes with basil and thyme. Yum. Capped off the night with a brisk and chilly walk along the beach and through the canals with J and Duff.

Tonight it's off to nitespa with Em for some girly time. You can't beat pedis and wine, especially when it's a bottomless glass. Except Em can't drink because of that whole pregnant thing, so I guess while she's eating for two, I will be drinking for two.
PS - It's Super Tuesday, vote bitches.

The US plays Mexico in a friendly Wednesday night. Watch that shit and get jealous that L is making us dinner to go along with the game. I wonder if I can crochet Duff a USA sweater in two days?

Thursday, I got nothing except the premier of Lipstick Jungle. Dear God, please end the writer's strike.

And Friday it's off to our 2nd Annual Ski Trip in Big Bear! J and Drew are driving up early Friday to get a full day in, while the rest of us will be in town later that evening. Late night hijinks will of course be documented on film, and pending nudity (last year, bad, real bad) will be up on Flickr and YouTube shortly after.

But I'm Shama Training

Note to Self: You are no longer 21 years old. Can you think of the last time you tried boozing it up three nights in a row? Didn't think so.