Category Archives: food and diet

Work, Music, Sushi=Life?

My problem with blogging is that I think too much. I need to just go at it. It’d make me do it more, and it wouldn’t feel like work. Speaking of, thanks to my boss I got to see Jay-Z and Mary J. Blige from the 10th row, at the perfect angle to the stage, this past Monday. “Which car is more hip hop? The BMW or the Lexus SUV?” When his wife rolled up in the Lexus to pick us up from the dive bar close to work he informed her, “We’re gonna take your car. Brittany said it’s more hip hop.” He then went on to give his wife props for “lookin’ all hip hop.” She did too, in her black knee-high boots. With my printed hoodie I was going for the street hip hop look, no stilettos for me.

When we were downing our double drinks, I learned a lot about where things are headed with work. It’s pretty huge so I’m definitely hanging on to this job. The most exciting thing is that in a week from tomorrow we’ll get our regular pay, plus the extra at the end of each month (which I’m hoping should be pretty hefty, I mean I’d settle for just a $100 and it’s already going to be way more than that). Some purchases I’d like to make (okay, I should use some towards credit card debt): A FULL BED for a REAL WOMAN! (A real “ladycat” deserves nothing less, afterall, and I’ve been without a real bed for too long), a new digital camera, and some new clothes/shoes, because I’ve been in the same ol’ duds (more or less) since who knows when.

Pants just visited and it was a good time, but I spent way too much money. I realized how much I talk about my boss, and this means two things. One, work is life, especially when you can work from wherever, whenever. Two, I’ve already got a lot of good stories from partying with him, hearing things through the grapevine, and just dealing with him. It’s entertaining stuff, because it’s a unique kind of work environment, and I feel really lucky for it. I don’t know many other people in their office “career” job who can relate as much. It goes for every job, but you just don’t know what it’s really like unless you actually work there. Of course there are times when I feel like I’m fucking everything up or he’s being way too demanding or ADD, but overall, the good outweighs the bad (and the perks help too- monthly full body massages with a top-notch masseuse, free concerts and albums for my reviews, a Trader Joe’s-stocked kitchen).

Another thing on my mind lately is music; I never buy it anymore. I think this is why my taste in music is feeling so outdated. I have old favorites, cd’s accumulated when Mom was actually paying for it. They nearly make me sick to look at now. I want new, new, new. No looking back! I need soundtracks to launch me into the future!!! Up, up and away. I do have new (or new to me) favorite bands/artists, but I just don’t have their albums:

Hot Chip

Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy



Sly & The Family Stone

Nick Drake

Rolling Stones

Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings



St. Vincent

Vampire Weekend (I feel like such an indie-scenester toolbag cuz of them, so I might start hating them soon, if they start becoming even more overhyped)

Dengue Fever

So yeah, I guess that extra bread will, in part, end up going towards some hefty music purchases.

I’m waiting for A to come over. I think he’s finally taking me OUT to dinner. We never go out, the closest we come to that is when he rides his bike down to the sushi place and brings back a feast for us (bean curds, mmm), which I think is so sweet. I can picture myself a year ago imagining my boyfriend and saying, “He should be the type who will go ride his bike in the rain to get me sushi!” It’s a tiny detail of a “requirement” I would come up, because I love sushi and boys on bikes. Tonight though…sushi out could be extra nice.


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My life consists of:

editorial internship M-W via Walnut Creek BART, via MacArthur station, via free shuttle. It’s a big plus that I usually write during the hour I have to kill before going in in the morning, while I sit outside with my Sbux, and that just being in the publishing office inspires me to brainstorm or write on my lunch break (sometimes). I definitely never felt that while temping in a financial office.

weekly check-in phone calls from Mr. Paul. Usually, like tonight, he’ll start out by saying he was on the freeway and just thought of me. Sometimes he tells me about how his grandmother’s doing in the hospital, but mostly when I hang up Becky will ask, “What’d he have to say?” to which I’ll answer, “I have no idea,” then she’ll go, “As usual!” and I’m like, “I think he said something about hanging out? …Maybe?”

giving my number out to various men, none of which I’m excited about, but who cares? Within two days, I gave my number out to three people. Two of them I met when I hit up the dance floor by myself down Crogan’s in da Creek, while Becky was on her date in the other room. Oh, did I mention they were friends with each other? Oooh, my b! Well, even though I was texting with one of them the next afternoon, I haven’t heard from him since, so it doesn’t matter. Plus, his myspace page failed to impress me (ie. skanky pics of chicks, and a weird typical Pisces thing for feet/toes..eww), but I love that his email address is Also those two and the others they were with were pretty fun. I bet you can’t say you that you’ve been wiped down before! Sounds dirty, but for those of you squares not in the know, I’m talking about “Shoulders, chest, pants, shoes!” from Lil Boosie’s “Wipe Me Down.” We were all doing the wipe me down to each other and it was a highlight in my life. Shout outs to Crogan’s for a surprisingly good time on the Thursday night dance floor.

The other dude was an older white guy, total square, who talked to me while we waited ten minutes for the BART up until we transferred and got off at separate stops. I was headed out to meet Mr. Paul at the club, and I once I told the guy that I was going to a club, I had to hear the “Maybe you could show me how to dance sometime.” Show your own damn self how to dance, buddy! That ain’t the job for me. I bitterly told him that I’ve tried that many times before and it just doesn’t work. HA.

football and crabbing with Asians/Koreans (and Becky) on my 24th birthday. I sure as hell didn’t see that coming, but that’s what happened because I was, again, 3rd wheeling with Becky and her date (but no, I will not be that 3rd wheeling friend that follows a couple around. Please, shoot me with your gat before that happens). Earlier that day we went to a Cal game, which was fun for a quarter or two, and then went late-evening crabbing. The view was really beautiful though, because we were on a pier right next to the Golden Gate bridge with the pretty lil’ city and the Bay Bridge across the water.

the end.

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Right when Dylan and I got into the city we stopped into a sushi place that advertised $1-$2 rolls served on boats. Inside, we found ourselves sitting at a counter with boats of sushi going by in the water. Boat after boat, after boat sped by, while I stared wide-eyed! The waitress let us know we could just grab anything we wanted as it floated by. Tempura shrimp rolls, rolls topped with avocado, seaweed rolls, and other unknown morsels of goodness. I have never experienced sushi like THAT before! “You don’t even understand. I LOVE sushi!” I look forward to doing that again.

Last night I couldn’t stop snacking. Dylan made a crepe with a burrito wrap, peanut butter and banana. We smoked a few times on the back porch at Jessica’s house. I tried to put together the pieces of the border of the puzzle, which pictures an eagle or two flying over a waterfall. If I’m to finish it, it has to be done tonight, as we are done staying there tomorrow (..wait, maybe it’s Thursday that we’re out).

I met Juan yesterday in his apartment near the Haight. We were ganging up on Dylan. Juan’s a sassy one. “I thought I was going to be getting some ass,” he said about Dylan’s 420-seeking Craigslist posting. Juan has three cats and a housekeeper.

The BART ride in was long today. I don’t have music to listen to but Dylan played a few songs for me. After hearing a song on Becky’s mix cd I’m really feelin Keyshia Cole again. She a bad broad! For most of the ride I was sitting there thinking about everything I haven’t written about yet. Things keep piling up, and then they slide too far out of view. What a waste.

A week ago when it was 4pm in Boston I was lying on D’s chest watching “Apocalypto” and getting my back rubbed, like a happy cat. It’s only been a week and I already miss spooning. “Summer I” was a spoon-filled time. “Summer II” the exact opposite. Wahh-wah-wah! I’ll shut the fuck up now.

I’m glad to be in another city that’s near water.

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i love this month!!

in front of 7-11 there was a homeless guy with a broken humerus bone popped upwards(!) begging for change. a few days ago there was a bum crossing the street whose hand was dangling from his permanently broken wrist. the homeless in the summer.

for dinner dylan and i walked to cpk at the pru, stopping to smoke on a random hill overlooking a parking lot near a dog park. we went to the longwood galleria for dairy queen, which came up because his flip flops are the same color as a cherry-dipped DQ cone. i had the biggest one i’ve ever had! it hit the spot. eric met us, and we ate them while double parked on peterborough street in front of el pelon, then we tossed the frisbee around in the fens. i left them and came home sweaty. it’s still so warm and hazy outside.

tomorrow night i’m working after alan (ugh, alan) at the lemonade cart.

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-brunch with Ben and Pants at Eastern Standard
-downtown to return pants at Wet Seal
-to dylan’s to easily persuade him to go to Sak’s with us for free drinks
-dylan and i were freaking out once we got outside. “There are really solid characters out today!” “Good job! A+ performance, people!” “Brav-o!” “Everyone, A+ performance!”
-sak’s was a bust so we went to chili’s instead
-began a giant trek back over to the north end to see benny and score free lattes
-made it to starbucks in rough shape and enjoyed 2 free drinks
-took the T home

last night
-hungout all afternoon and evening at dylan’s
-walked along the esplanade to my house
-dylan left me to go to jess scola’s party. i was in no shape to go out.

-eric and dylan came over
-we went for a drive to belmont and home along the water
-becky and patrick joined us for take-in at my apartment
-smoked a little more and had some baby wines
-everyone went home around 12am
-i joined ben and pants in some drinkys till 3am

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just back from mission hill

Since when did the smell of patchouli incense and remnants of burning cigarettes begin to serve as a signal to my roommates that I’m home?

I was at Becky’s to have a quick visit with Kim and say happy holidays to Becky. We smoked together and watched “Saved!” Unfortunately we didn’t get to finish it.

Becky had to go to work so we all got into Kim’s car, which is no longer Taurie, and headed down Huntington Ave. I got dropped off at Mass Ave. and Westland. Kim told me to call her when I got home.

On the walk home it was still nice out. I looked at what I was wearing: bronze flats ($5), black leggings ($10), a red, cotton dress ($15), and a long, gray zip- up hoodie (birthday present). I was proud to calculate that my entire outfit cost me only $30, or $35 if including my gold, leaf necklace. Some people, perhaps a marjority of people, would be ashamed of wearing such budget threads. To hell with them. They clearly have their priorities mixed up.

But so do I. When I walked into our apartment with my treats from 7-11, Rolling Stone with Snoop on the cover, and a frozen Vanilla-Almond ice cream bar, I put my ice cream in the freezer and took out my leftovers from last night’s dinner at The King & I. Then I remembered on the walk home I had been craving a cigarette but couldn’t smoke because I left my lighter at home. So I abandoned my take-out box and headed to my room. I lit patchouli, closed my door, made sure my window was cracked open, and started writing all of these thoughts down, while smoking a much-desired cigarette.

Now, onto dinner!

When my roommates come home they’ll know I’m here.

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The night of "10 Lil Crips" and stealing

Last night was like a true bonding night for Ry and me. This was after he and Pants went down the Linwood for an hour, while I was left to my own devices. Devices being a giant bottle of Yellowtail. I had announced when I got home that I was going to drink it all by myself. Well, not quite, but I had a good 4/5ths of it by the end of our night.

The reason I was so determined to drink it all was because when I got home from work I had to immediately shower. When I took the trash out at work a girl from Dick’s hucked her trash into the dumpster and mysterious liquid flew all over my face. It smelled like 20 different things and as she told me how sorry she was I could feel it trickle down my lip. I had another shirt under my pretzel shirt so I ripped off my pretzel shirt to wipe off my face and forearm. As I walked away wiping my face I started crying. What the hell am I doing working at a place where I even have to go to the dumpster to take out the trash? I have a college degree, unlike most of the people who work at Faneuil Hall for a fucking living. I felt pathetic and also stupid because something like that set me off to crying and fighting back tears, instead of just getting pissed.

Anyway, when they came back from the Linwood Pants soon went to bed and Ry and I were in my room each with one sock/Chinese slipper on, playing some Joanna Newsom and talking about JT Leroy, of all things! At about 2:45am Ry took a 7 minute sleepy on my bed. I was instructed to wake him with “Oy, mate!” which I did. He popped right up and we went to Shaw’s. It started out like a regular trip to Swahs. We found the mozz sticks, found a nice pizza (2 for $6), and Ry got a SmartWater. We were waiting in line forever so I opened up my Kettle chips. We were digging in and before we even moved an inch they were all gone. Ry whispered that he was going to get another bag because they were so good. He ditched our trash in the organic food aisle. He came back with a bigger $3.99 bag of Kettle chips (yogurt and dill? Mmmmm). So then we get so annoyed that we’re waiting in line that he suggests that I go down an aisle and put the pizza and the mozz sticks up my shirt. Of course I go to the organic aisle. I look around a bit, eyeing the cameras, then I slipped the 10″ pizza and sticks into my purse. I walked back down the aisle, looked at Ry and we waltzed outta there. Now I’m staying away for about a week.

At home we cooked up the food, and once it was done D called to say he was downstairs. The three of us sat in the kitchen talking about who knows…tater tots and hash browns. Ry continued to ask me to slap his arm, which I did because I never turn down an offer to slap a pal. Ben told me today he fell asleep to the slapping sound followed by Ry’s “Ooooohhh!”s of pain! We all realized it was 4:30am and decided to call it a night. Of course, D didn’t even drink the Miller Lite cans he brought, but at least he didn’t open them, take a sip or two and leave them on my window sill like usual. He was downloading some Jay Z diss by Cam’ron and vice versa, while we lied down and smoked some squares.

We woke up at 1:30pm. He saw the issue of the Dig that we were in and said he lost his. I told him he could have it because it was an extra from work. After he got his shit together he was about to walk out and then he remembered it, went into my room and came out with it folded up. Pretty dear. His parting words were about hollerin’ at him before the holiday. Good shit right there.

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