Archive for August, 2011

Girls Day Out

My sister brought the girls up to my place over the weekend.  We made homemade pizza for lunch, walked to the park across the street, and picked fresh lemons from the neighbor’s tree 😉



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Word of the Der


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Last night, S and I decided to stay in and have a ‘low key’ night.  Coming off of a two-week long binge drinking fest, we planned on taking it easy.  We had good intentions, which is what really counts, right?  We ordered sushi, had some wine, watched a little Jersey Shore.  Then things took a turn:

Whose idea was it to have a blind wine tasting test?

Whose idea was it to wax our nose hairs?

We definitely went out with a bang.

Now that my drinking buddy has gone off to work, I’m going to lay off the sauce and hop on the wagon.  My liver, memory, and ass will thank me.

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Crazy Stupid Love

S left today for what could be the next 3 months to work some rad events across the country.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t fit in his suitcase.  I know because when he left the room, I tried.  I didn’t get the pants I wanted, but I did get his Grateful Dead tee; I’m already wearing it.


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Wassup, B?

Cravings kicking in:


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Fair-weather fan

There’s no way around it: I’m a fair-weather fan.  Born into a die hard Red Sox family, I had a strong suspicion my older brother would petition to disown me if I didn’t cheer on his team.  After dating a Yankee fan for a few years, and realizing that it could never work (the relationship, people, not the rivalry), I dusted off the old Bosox foam finger and tried to weasel my way back in.  Let’s face it: it is way more fun being a Sox fan.


Now that I’m living in California, my brother warns me that I am allowed to support the Giants, but not the A’s.  Luckily for me, the Giants stadium is much more appealing:


We sat 24 rows behind 1st base last night, while the Gigantes ultimately ate shit out on the field.  S disappeared to refill our beverages and returned with a Panda hat for me 🙂  I’m still trying to pretend I know who Pablo Sandoval is…

The crowd, the beer, the hot dogs, the 10-year old Phillies fan behind me yelling to the home team about “tweaking cankles”; behind music festivals/concerts, ball games are right up there on my list of faves.  Not sure what was the best part of the night though, the 9 innings or listening to an intoxicated S try to haggle with the town car driver on our way back to BART.  Cheers!

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Boyfriend Jeans

I am still giggling and simultaneously shaking my head at myself over a recent exchange with my best friend, Drea:

Me: I just tried on S’s jeans.  If I gain any weight, I won’t fit in them… Omg

Drea: Hahahaha.  He’s not there and you’re trying on his pants?  I love you.  And that’s bc boys have no hips

Me: They were on the floor & I’m cleaning up hahaaa he has really nice jeans!

Drea: Ur nuts

Me: Should I not tell him then?

Drea: No he will laugh.  Tell him.

I did tell S that I accidentally put his jeans on instead of mine.  I then informed him that if any of his clothes go missing in the near future, I have nothing to do with it… especially those cream slim leg corduroys…

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