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.

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.


Wassup, B?

Cravings kicking in:


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!

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…

I visit the grocery store about 3 times per day now.  I’ve been craving human interaction.  That, and chicken wings.  For our Monday night Bachelorette wrap party, I tried out a new grill recipe: Garlic Lime Chicken Wings.  They were a huge hit (among the two of us).  Here’s a little tease…

I took zero pictures of the finished product.  It works out though; I don’t want you salivating all over your computer.