Sleeping with the Slayer

On Saturday night, a group of us went to a White Party thrown by the Private in the LBC. It was nice hanging out in the Private's backyard, and I had a lot of fun playing with my newest toy, a small Nikon CoolPix (I am Nikon groupie now!). We took a lot of pictures, but it was fun because having everyone in white made it feel like a Tommy Hilfiger ad.

After carousing around the LBC until 3am, I was exhausted, drunk and hungry (I hadn't eaten dinner), and I thought it best to prepare a quick and healthy meal of morningstar veggie corndogs before going to sleep.

After creating my glorious meal, I went to bed and proceeded to watch some Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Now that all the good TV shows are on summer-break, I have been watching a little bit of The Slayer's third season each night and felt under the circumstances--like eating in bed--a little pre-sleep Buffy was in order. As I moved on to desert (TJ's cinnamon twists), I finished the end of an episode I started the night before, and navigated my way to the DVD splash screen to select the next episode. It must have been at this point that exhaustion overcame my love of Buffy and my love for the cinnamon twist.

I woke up 3 hours later with my glasses on, my remote in hand, the spooky-sounding DVD menu music looping over and over, and a cinnamon twist placed strategically on my chest. I guess even grown-ups can still "pass out" after drinking too much.

And all this brings me to a topic very near and dear to my heart: Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don't tell lots of people about this, so many of you might not know, but this is my favorite TV show (well, next to Sex and the City. But if HBO ads are correct, than HBO is not TV and therefore Buffy IS my favorite show on television and SATC is something else entirely...).

I love Buffy because it is hilarious. It is loaded with lots of witty one-liners and dry-sarcastic humor. It is extremely well-written. And while the topic of "a vampire slayer" is one I too used to scoff at, I feel like the writers do a great job of not taking themselves too seriously. I mean, come on...we're talking about a super strong (yet tiny and beautifully proportioned) high school girl who has the strength of many men and who kills vampires after school. And you can't forget the fact that she falls in love with a vampire, the very thing she is destined to hate and hunt. Who thought the WB could be so Shakespearean? But regardless of the sappy storyline and clichéd plot structures, the show is enjoyable! Often times it is even symbolic enough to approach allegory where the vampires symbolize other evils in this world, like Republicans.

Here's a list of other reasons why Buffy is cool:
1) She's really strong
2) She always kicks a**.
3) She has an unending supply of original come-backs and one liners, seamlessly delivered to whatever big-bad she is fighting
4) Her boyfriend, Angel, is hot (and he even has a cool tattoo!)
5) She was always dressed fashionably and no matter how big the scuffle, she always came out of it looking cute and slightly flushed. (Flushed in the kind of way that makes you glow and not the kind of "flushed" that means a red face and sweat).

A couple of years ago, as part of the same fundraising event, I got to go back-stage on an episode of Angel (the spin-off series). I me the whole cast, except Angel, and everyone was nice, except Angel. It was great fun!

And so my friends and fellow bloggers, I used to make fun of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And I will admit I only started watching it by accident a few seasons in (Y knows, she was there!), it is my favorite show and I miss it. I only own one season on DVD but now I sort of want the rest....

P.S. This message is to Vitamin G's friend 5 by 5...I know where your name came from!!! Faith is my favorite good-character-gone-bad-gone-good!

The Barista Strikes Back

Hello! I've been MIA for a few days because I had a big fat term paper for my Human Development class due last night. It's so annoying when responsibility gets in the way of posting photos, writing on blogs and emailing friends. At least it's done. I have one more lesson due today (which means four quizzes and a discussion post), then my final tomorrow (a big fat test!), and then I'm done. I'm very glad this class was only a month long. While the material is fascinating and I feel bad that I didn't actually have time to learn much (because I was too busy taking all those damn quizzes and online tests), I found out it is not a pre-req for the new RN BSN program I will be going in to. I'll get more into that later this week....

The Barista
Thought this was over, huh? Well so did I...so we had what I thought was our last conversation two Saturday's ago. It went something like this:

B: What are you doing today?
ML: Too much...I have to go here and pick up this, then go here and do this, etc. And I'm exhausted from being up late last night drinking too much and flirting with other boys at TUG in HB.
B: Wow...sounds like you're busy. Sounds like you're too busy for everything these days (said pointedly, with a sullen tone of voice)
ML: Yeah, I am pretty busy...
B: Well call me one day when you're not.

I felt bad about this but for me, this was the "this is over" conversation. I had promised myself, as you may all remember, that I still wanted to be able to go to TDG for my morning coffee. And so it was with great trepidation that I approached TDG on Monday morning. I was thrilled though when someone I didn't know served me and when I didn't see Barista G. Interestingly enough, later that day, I got a text message from him saying "You can still get coffee here even if you don't want to date." I wrote back saying, "I have and will. Was there today but didn't see you." And then I said something that was sort of a lie: "It's not that I don't want to date, it's just that the timing is off." I never heard back from him. This morning, I pulled into TDG on my way to work. He saw me right away and leaned out the window before my car even got to it to get my attention. I pulled up and we exchanged hellos. He said "I'll talk to you around back."

Dread set in. What did he want to talk about? What was there to talk about? I pulled around back to wait for my drink and did my best to seem very busy fiddling with my money and wallet. When he came out with my drink, he wouldn't let me pay (sweet, but unnecessary and somehow this gesture made me fell more guilty....). He then brought up his text message and said that he only sent it because he hadn't seen me all last week. And I said, "That's because I didn't come in last week. I was busy and my morning schedule doesn't always allow me to come in...like if I'm running late, or picking up my boss, or have an early meeting." He said "cool" and then we said our good-byes and I pulled away.

The Evil Sith Lord and his Vader
So you may have noticed my clever title...in honor of Star Wars Part 3 it is. On Sunday, saw it with my family I did. Good it was. Sad that it is over I am. As a child, Princess Leia I wanted to be. Yoda for Halloween, my brother TL was (he was 2!). Stop talking like Yoda I will.

My boss also loves Star Wars. We talked over a fantastic sushi lunch all about the movie. We've decided the Marketing is on the Dark Side and that that makes him the Evil Sith Lord. That makes me Darth L, his apprentice. It's great! Now I can call him Sith K and we all think it's funny!

Stay tuned for an afternoon post on my bestest friend Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It's just like Vitamin G's love for Veronica. I should get a t-shirt

Also, I have a second date with my Match Favorite tomorrow. We're going to eat...get this...sushi.

This is the Tattoo I'm going to get!

Maybe I'm Just Easy

The third date went well too. D is very nice and easy to talk to. He's a little shorter than I like but I would probably go out with him again too. This got me thinking...aside from the fact that my hair is now brown, what is so different from last time I did match? Why are the guys better? Why do I actually want to go out on second dates with some of them?

Maybe I'm just easy.

Well, easier. Maybe my expectations have lowered so far down that I have none now. Do they call that desperation??

In any event, none of this matters are all yet because all three of these super great nice guys could pull a "boy" and just not call back ever again. We shall see.

In These Shoes? I don't think so...

Before I get into the "deets" on the second Match.com date...I wanted to share some interesting findings. I took one of those email forward horoscope things this morning. You know, the kind where you write down numbers 1-11 on a blank sheet and fill in various things. You can't look ahead though and at the end it tells you what each item actually represents in your life and future. Well...here's a quick summary of some of my "horoscope."

1) WBF is the true love of my life and the song that represents our love is "Time is Running Out" by Muse. Hmm...
2) Cabo Boy (PB) is the person I like but the relationship cannot work. The song that represents this relationships is "Don't Phunk with My Heart" by the Black Eyed Peas. This is surprisingly spot-on. Another "Hmm" is warranted.
3) The song that the tells me most about my mind is "In these Shoes?" By Kristi MacColl. Now this is particularly funny because this song is about a girl wearing fabulous shoes whilst living in Cuba. She is British and she is being wooed by all the Latino men, each of which want to take her away to some romantic spot to seduce her. Her response to each of them in turn is, "In these shoes? I don't think so."

According to this horoscope quiz email, shoes (and putting them above wildly romantic nights with hot Cuban men) are what my mind is all about. Maybe I really AM superficial...These things are always accurate, right?

THE SECOND DATE...
...also went well. He was cute and nice and easy to talk to (BTW, "he" is B). I like R better than B but would go out with either of them again. We went to Portfolio, my new fav LBC coffee house. It has surpassed TDG in many ways because it is closer to my house, is frequented by many artsy folk and scruffy tattooed men, thereby making it infinitely more cool, AND because Barista G does not work there (but other hot baristas do). I go there so much now, I'm almost becoming a regular. A lot of people go and hang out there every night so it's only a matter of time before we're all bestest friends.

THE THIRD DATE...
....is today at lunch. It's with D. We're going to the Macaroni Grill. I'll let ya'll know how it goes.

APARTMENT NEWS
Our Landlord RD announced he is selling the building soon. This will be the second owner transfer the General and I have survived. The last time this happened, our rent ended up $300 more, my pretty orchid died because of the requisite pre-sale fumigation policy, and I've lost a great deal of sleep and peace of mind. Since the transfer the landlord has kept me up with all the bumping and grinding him and his chica do. Every night. Somewhere between 11-12. It lasts about 10 minutes. Turns out she's pregnant! I have to say, I'm not surprised. I am more concerned for that poor child than anything else. I hope it's okay and not too bruised from all that repetitive motion.

Un Rendez-vous De Déjeuner

I had a great lunch date today. It was with a guy I met on Match. Let's call him R. He is nice and smart and fun and interesting. He is tall enough (6'1) and old enough (31), and he's cute! There was never an awkward moment. We had great conversations and great food (at my favorite local sushi place...yes, Y, I'm still addicted!). The lunch sped by and then it was time to go. When we said good-bye I assumed there would be no hugging or kissing because it was a day-time, work-week lunch date thing, and somehow, in my mind, kissing during that kind of date just seems wrong. I went to shake his hand (because I didn't know what else to do) and he shook it, then said, "Come on...give me a hug." So I did. It was a nice long-ish hug. Then he said, "Would you like to do this again sometime?" To which I said "yeah, I'd love that." He's going out of town this weekend so he said he'd call next week. I hope he does!

So the date went well, and that's exciting, but more importantly I am excited because the following:

1) Nice, interesting, single guys DO exist
2) Match.com dates CAN be good and fun
3) Being interested in a non-jerk IS possible

Yippee!! See?? All of this is because of the Cabo boy PB. It's funny how life leads you down certain paths.

I have a date with another Match.com guy tonight and another one tomorrow. I'm going through them like I'm moving my way down a list. Who says dating can't be business-like?

Questions People Shouldn't Ask

Last night, I was asked my least favorite question of all time. He said it in the nicest way possible by sticking in a complement: "You're really cute...you probably have no problem meeting guys, so why are you single?"

I really HATE that question. Here's why:

I feel like there are only three possible responses to this and none of them are good enough to warrant the asking. Someone is single because ....

a) They have some major obvious problem that makes them virtually undateable. An example of such "major obvious problem" would be things like being a rapist or schizophrenic. So people in these situations are probably very rarely asked, "Why are you single?" No one needs to ask. We all just know why, don't we?

b) They have some minor obscure problem that makes them a little undateable for some people some of the time. An example of such "minor obscure problem" would be things like chronic halitosis or an intense controlling personality. These problems are more common, but the bearer of said problems are often times oblivious to having them. So when asked, "why are you single?" most won't answer, "because I have really bad breath." They probably just don't know. And the person asking the question probably doesn't know either, or they wouldn't ask it.

c) They just have not met the right person yet. This option is the one I would like to think I fall under. And it is the option that I think most single people fall under. In fact, the other two options could really fall under this too.

So, if the answer to this question ALMOST always boils down to having not met the right person yet, then why do people ask?? If you are single just because you haven't met the right person yet, then being questioned as to "why" only makes you feel bad. It's sort of like asking someone "why is your hair brown?" There are reasons for the brown hair... and you could point out how genetics work and how the chromosomes your parents gave you combined in such a way that you now have brown hair. But no one asks this because it is stupid.

Sometimes people use an alternative but equally MEAN question: "Why aren't you dating anyone right now?" The possible responses to this are similar to the single question, but there is one extra component about it that really bugs me. This question implies that "dating" is merely a choice; that one day, you can wake up and decide: "now I am dating." And then you date and then you find true love and then you live happily ever after. But...

IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY.

Being "single" is not just an option you chose until you decide to "date." Singleness can be a decision and it can be enjoyable (I've been having a great time!) but the only way that you can consciously decide to stop "being single" and start "dating" is via something like Match.com. And that doesn't really count because it's like fast-food (large quickly prepared unhealthy quantities of low-quality stuff).

The next time someone asks me either question, I'm going to come up with a really great response to just throw them off. It will go something like this:

"So, ML, why are you single?"
"Because I really enjoy strings of meaningless one night stands with men who can't commit."

I think that would shut them up. At least for awhile.

Rips --> Nirvana

At Target today, as I passed the candy aisle...something lured me in like a Siren. It beckoned, calling me to towards all that is sugary and good. And then it happened. I cracked: I bought a bag of sour bite-sized "Rips." They are essentially the same type of candy as that Costco sized box of sour tape I slowly devoured in the month following our NYE party.

Sour candy is my crack.

Help....help.....I'm eating the whole bag....

If only I had pulled an Odysseus and lashed my hands to a near-by pillar in the soda aisle before it was too late...

Sincerely
The Sour Candy Wh*re

Together the Gasoline

Happy First day of Summer and Happy Silk Week (fashion theme)!

SOTW
I don't have an official "Song of the Week" like Vitamin G, but were I to suggest one for this week, it would be "Gasolina" by Daddy Yankee. Warning: This song is ANNOYING! But when you hear it over and over again while drinking too much in Cabo clubs, it starts to grow on you. I like it now SO MUCH, that instead of buying the MP3 on iTunes, I actually bought a full real-life CD for the first time in ages (but that's more about iTunes not offering Gasolina then about my love for Daddy Yankee).

My love for this song led me on a quest to understand it's meaning (I took French in high school and the song is all in Spanish). The chorus repeatedly says, "Junta La Gasolina." According to AltaVista's translation tool, Babelfish, this means "Together the Gasoline." So, I'm not sure what this song is about, but whatever it is, it's gotta be super important, super poetic, and full of allegorical meaning and deep symbolism.

Toe Emergencies
On Friday night at TUG, someone somehow somewhere smashed my right big toe nail. And when I say "smashed" I mean this person broke off the entire top left corner. A big chunk of nail is now barely hanging on. The interesting thing is that I vaguely remember an incident that may have caused this...I think at some point I said "ow" but thanks to raspberry stoli, I didn't really notice the gaping wound until much later in the night. I looked down to gaze lovingly upon my favorite wedge espadrilles and saw that my toe was covered in caked-blood. Luckily it didn't hurt until the next day (also, thanks to raspberry stoli). But for the rest of that night the three year old in me (the part that thinks blood = pain and therefore leads to permissible whining) complained profusely. Maybe that's why T didn't ask for my number.... ; )

So now I can't wear shoes. Which means I can't workout. Which means no running! And to be honest, I'm thrilled about that. Now I haven't had to run since Cabo due to parasites and toe wounds. While these issues have not been pleasant they are allowing me to stay in a happy place of indecision (RE: next marathon).

A Season of Fun
Last night, as a big finale to my official TWF ("two weeks of fun" plan), I went to a wine and cheese tasting thing at a cute little chic Beverly Hills hotel, Maison 140. They were featuring wines from the Columbia Valley in Washington and had a great assortment of mainly European cheeses from the Beverly Hills Cheese Store. My favorite was a triple cream Spanish cheese and the Pinot Gris. Good stuff! And now that TWF is over, I can catch up on sleep, attempt to dismantle Mount Clothes-Pile upon my bedroom arm-chair and wash the dishes in the sink. I'm sure the General will appreciate TWF being over.

Despite TWF being over, there is still much fun ahead! As Babydoll pointed out in an email earlier today, we have: TPH happy hour(s) tomorrow night, TUG on Friday night, a Tattoo expo on Saturday (we're getting Tattoos...did I already post about that?), and then a White Party on Saturday night. YAY for summer fun!!!

Blog Stats
I now have a new reporting analysis tool attached to my blog. Just so I can see how effective ploys like posting on Cartoon Sheep are at getting new and foreign readers. Here are some of the more interesting findings. Last Thursday, I had 94 viewings and 48 unique visitors (that was my first day with the tool so everyone was a new visitor). These numbers slowly declined until yesterday, where a new all-time high of 138 viewings happened. However, the 138 page-views only brought in 15 new visitors. On Thursday I wrote about my age-swapping dating theory and on Monday I wrote about stupid boy behavior. It will be interesting to watch what topics pull in new people.

(cartoon sheep, cartoon sheep, cartoon sheep).

Boys go to Jupiter to Get More Stupider

Anyone remember that little jump-roping elementary school chant? While we're all old enough and wise enough to know that a) boys do not actually go to Jupiter, b) "more stupider" is grammatically incorrect and c) boys do not necessarily seek out things to make them more stupid, I am finding that this little statement is becoming more valid in my life as time goes on. Here is some evidence collected over the weekend to support the concept that boys do indeed sometimes act "more stupid."

On Friday night, as part of the finale of TWF I went to a comedy club with Miss JH and then met up with KA and Babydoll in HB afterwards. We ended up at TUG (surprise, surprise). BTW, I think we're becoming regulars there. Well, KA and BD have been for awhile but I am a starting to become one. I'm not sure how I feel about that...it's like we're becoming "UG Girls" (*frowns in consternation*). After too many [free] cocktails and shots, we ended up talking to GLB (see post from Monday about last Friday night) and this other guy called T. T was perfect on paper. If he had a baseball card, his batting average and RBI stats would rival that of some really good baseball player. He was attractive, tall enough, and old enough. He had a great job, he was super nice, he was funny and smart and he smelled really good. Plus, he was originally from Wisconsin making him particularly prime dating material. After TUG closed we all went back to T's place to hang out. Not only was he great in all the aforementioned ways, but he had an awesome two-bedroom apartment within a few blocks of the bars that he lived in BY HIMSELF. Yep, that's right, the second room was not for someone to help share the cost of what must have been exorbitantly high rent, it was just an office for him. So we're talking about a REAL grown-up here. Aside from all this, he had two REALLY BIG plasma TV's. I'm not all that into technology but lately really big TV's are especially enthralling to me...I have a 13" TV in my room that I've had since I was 13, so maybe I am suffering from TV envy. Anyways, I digress. Let me get to the point. T was seemingly perfect and I had a good time hanging out with him. But when it when it was time to go, he didn't ask for my number.

My initial reaction was "WTF?" All that time hanging out and it ended with an, "I'm sure we'll see each other around?!?!" This was something new and foreign. Even though many guys play the dumb little game where they ask for your number and don't call, I found myself REALLY annoyed that T didn't even pretend to want to call me.

After some more thinking though I realized that maybe this is what happens when guys are older. Maybe this is the next part of the theory (see Thursday's post). Maybe older guys are not necessarily more nice but they are more honest. And I appreciate that on some level. I'm still a little annoyed that he didn't even pretend to want it (come on! It's common courtesy!), but I am really happy that now I don't have to wonder if I'll hear from him.

So sometimes guys say they'll call and then they don't. And sometimes they don't ask for your number because they don't plan on calling. The one constant is that their dating behavior is rarely predictable. And even though upper 20/early 30 guys may sometimes be "more honester," that doesn't mean that they aren't also "more stupider." Maybe those 11 year old girls playing double-dutch had it right.

P.S. I'm not sad about this. I am not bitter either. I had a great time Friday night and hanging out with T, and I find all of this "research" just fascinating. And remembering rhymes from 5th grade that still apply today is always fun. So no need to email or comment saying things to make me feel better. The rest of the weekend was GREAT and I'll post on that later today.

P.S.S. The "boys" refered to in this post do not include any guys allowed to read this blog. That is, Vitamin G, you're not included.

The 20-Something "Age-Swapping" Theory on Dating

I have a theory on dating (well, I actually have several). Here's my latest:

(Please note, I am speaking in huge generalities here. This is by no means standard of all people and is only a snapshot of the limited experiences I myself have had. Please also note that I am not ignoring the mid-20 group. For simplicity, I am merely dividing the 20's only in two parts--early and upper)

Early 20s

Guys:
-New to careers, financial freedom (if they have a career) and they want to "play" with what's available to them.
-Less interested in the "player-like" lifestyles of their college days, but not quite ready for commitment yet.
-Interests lie somewhere between one-night-stands and casual dating.
-The Right Girl is someone who is fun and confident, and up for hooking-up and hanging-out without the extra pressure of "where is this going?"

Girls:
-Most by now have had at least a minor heart-break, but said heart-break is not bad enough (or often enough) that bitterness has set in.
-New to careers, financial freedom (if they have a career) and they want to start having more real, grown-up relationships, different from what the guys in college could offer.
-Interests lie somewhere between casual dating and serious relationships.
-The Right Guy is someone who is mature, polished, and comfortable with the idea of dating getting more serious. One day.

Upper 20s

Guys:
-Used to working and being an adult. Less interested in "playing" and the novelty of financial freedom has long since worn-off.
-Less interested in the casual dating and one-night stands of their early 20's, but more ready for commitment if the right girl comes along.
-The Right Girl is casual, sweet, low-maintenance and NOT bitter.

Girls:
-Most by now have had a more significant heart-break, as well as several experiences with guys who disappear without warning (from all those early 20 year old guys).
-Expectations of guys and dating dip to all-time lows.
-Despite a lowering of expectations, there is not too much bitterness--just a causal acceptance that this is how it is.
-Enjoyment of "singleness" increases slightly; and confidence is up.
-Interested in more serious, committed relationships but are much more open to those little flings that go nowhere (because they come up more often).
-The Right Guy is whatever comes along next...It's all in the name of fun.

CONCLUSIONS:

1) If you look at what each group seeks, it is interesting to note that early 20 girls match best with Upper 20 guys; and early 20 guys match best with upper 20s girls.
2) This explains why I keep meeting 21-23 year olds even though I am almost (although not quite!) in my upper 20s.
3) It also explains where all the good upper 20 guys are: they're all taken by those shiny new young dewey-eyed 22 year olds!
4) The guys our age mistakenly define our confidence and "been around the block" type outlook as bitterness and go for the innocent ones.

THEREFORE, we are reduced to continue singleness (which isn't so bad, actually...) or have casual, meaningless nothings with sub-25s.

And so I am left with this question: will I ever date a real guy my age or older again? One that has been out of the womb long enough that he actually has to shave every day??

(My OLD ex--who's 37 now--doesn't count because we began dating when I was a shiny new young dewey-eyed 24 year old)

I wonder what happens in the 30's...

The Happiest Hour

Who doesn't like happy hour? It is a great way to unwind after work, it's usually cheap, and let's face it. If you have a drink (or two, or three), it turns into a really happy hour. My initial bond with the happy hour concept began in college. During my senior year, DS and I practically lived at the Acapulco in Westwood, feasting off of their nightly themes. There was Margarita Monday ($1.50 margaritas), Taco Tuesday (free tacos!), All Night Happy Hour Thursday (half price drinks all night--great for pre-partying before heading off to more expensive establishments), etc. And all items that weren't free or discounted because of the theme were half off! From 4-7pm! What fun!

So pretty much all of my sustenance during senior year came from chips, salsa, margaritas and whatever free tasty Mexican food items they lovingly served up in buffet style. Maybe I'm exaggerating slightly, but I'm serious about the fact that we were there ALL the time. DS even began dating one of the waitresses.

In the years since those Acapulco days, I've become a little distanced from "happy hour." I go here and there every now and then, without being a regular at any one place without any regular HH friends. The specials never seem as good as they once were and the food never as plentiful. I accepted this as a normal part of growing up, and classified my Acapulco memories as rare and precious.

So when JR suggested going to Tequila Jack's for Taco Tuesday, I scoffed a bit inside. Who doesn't have a taco Tuesday nowadays? Surely, it would be lame. Even Acapulco's happy hours aren't as good now--less food, more money (not even the purest good can escape Inflation). I thought maybe TJ's would have some cheap-ish tacos and a drink special, and perhaps it would last long enough for us to get a quick drink in before the deals ended. But regardless of whatever their little specials were gonna be, I knew a Taco Tuesday at this place could never compare with those glorious Acapulco happy hours of yore!

BUT, something wonderful happened. I discovered that Taco Tuesday at Tequila Jack's IS good and DOES compare with my memories of Acapulco. Here is why: 1) it lasts until 9pm. That's GREAT for those of us who now work for the man and can't start drinking at 4 like we all wish we could. 2) The tacos are GOOD and cost only $1 each (plus 4 different types of fillings to choose from--even a veggie option for people like myself). 3) It was easy to get a seat out on the water (ambiance), easy to get parking (free with validation), and the food came quickly. 4) There were many attractive young men around to gaze upon whilst feasting on this yummy cuisine. And finally, 5) I loved the salsa and because there was a salsa bar, you never had to wait for more.

And so it was with this little excursion to TJ's last night that the beauty of happy hour once again rushed upon me. Now I love TJs. Anyone want to go next Tuesday??

Sushi Obsessions, Match Repeats and Old Friends

Today I ate lunch with my best friend here at work, CS (not to be confused with Babydoll, who's initials are also CS). We had sushi! I just can't get enough sushi lately! Seriously, I am eating it like four times a week now. While at lunch Barista G called. I didn't answer because...well...I was at lunch with CS and I don't like Barista G all that much. I planned to call him last night to sort of end whatever it is we've got going on (you know, be honest with him and let him know why I don't call anymore...do the honorable thing), but I got busy with my homework. And by that I mean I got busy hanging out at this fantastic coffee shop where hot men go in droves. I will call him tonight.

In the last few days I've received emails or winks from three different Match.com guys who either emailed, chatted, or actually went out on a date with me one year ago. They are the same guys, with the same Match names but exactly ONE year later. The funny thing is they don't know who I am. My match alias, my profile and my hair color has changed. Part of me is slightly amused by this--oh the irony! one year later and being contacted by the same people--but part of me feels sort of sad for them and for all the lonely people in this big wide world...including myself (sigh). But, I feel more amused than sad, so it's okay.

Tonight, as part of TWF I am celebrating Taco Tuesday with my oldest friend. "Old" not because of her age (she's my age...and we're not old dammit!) but old because we became friends in 4th grade. In many respects she was my first best friend. At least she was my first in the US (prior to that I had only gone to school in Taipei). JR and I remained close through high school and have stayed in touch loosely since. A couple of years ago, we got involved in each other's lives more for a period of about a year, but then we sort of separated again until now. The last time we hung out was May 2004 right before the stupid Ex and I broke up. We've much to catch up on--so much has changed for both of us.

Other news...
Someone who I don't know has a link to my blog (under "personal favorites") on their blog! You can visit it at: http://therightsideup.blogspot.com Very exciting.

Cartoon Sheep

Cartoon sheep, cartoon sheep, cartoon sheep.

ML

P.S. Apprently, cartoon sheep are a big internet search item. I am including them as the topic of this post to increase the number of non-friend blog readers. Also, I am sitting at a coffee shop trying to do my homework and this seemed like a better idea than taking yet another online human development quiz.

P.S.S. There is a hot coffee shop worker here. I want to give him a note. Help! I have a problem.

Little Baby Marine Piggyback Rides and Other Adventures

Hello, and welcome to Stripe Week! I had a great but exhausting weekend. Here’s a recap on Friday night. It’s long and it may only be fun to the participants…so read with caution.

Per the TWF schedule, BD, KA and I went out in HB. It was going to be a low-key night because BD wasn’t feeling well, and because we wanted to have a bigger Saturday night. But that is not how the evening went at all…in fact, the evening was similar to the kinds of things that happened in Cabo. After our night we wrote notes on all the funny things that happened. This post is derived from those drunken, 4:30 am notes.

First off, BD wasn’t feeling well on Friday. Before we went she told me that she couldn’t have more than two drinks and that she cannot stay out past midnight. These were the rules and I was to help enforce them. I was up for the task. After all, I wanted BD to stay healthy and rested for our Saturday night activities, and I am good at remembering things when drunk. I told her I will definitely keep the rules under all circumstances UNLESS she changed her mind later...I felt that since these are her rules, she is allowed to break them or change her mind, but this change could not be administered casually by any means. In order to break them, she would have to do so with conviction. “Conviction” meant that she would have to face me straight on, place her hands on both my shoulders, look me in the eyes (acting as sober and serious as possible) and say: “I am no longer following the rules.” Only then could I permit a third drink and being out later. Of course, I knew she probably would break the rules…but that is why it was fun to implement this little amendment process.

The night began about an hour late (Taxi problems) and at TUG. We were approached early on by a nice, but awkward guy who meant well but tried too hard. He was called Orange Shirt Boy (OSB). BD told him she was “Nicole,” and that she was visiting from SF. He gave us some tips on what to visit in LA including the OC (all of it, in general), PV, and Hollywood. KA and I, AKA Michelle and Jenny, did our best to not talk to OSB and after ordering a second drink we all went deeper into TUG, leaving OSB behind. For more details on this particular encounter, please visit Little K’s blog.

From our new vantage point further in the bar, KA spied Grey Shirt Boy (GSB…yes, we’re clever with the nicknames). He was talking to a girl but she wanted to tell him she thought he was cute. So, on the way out of TUG, she tapped him on the shoulder and said, “I think you’re cute.” Then we made our exit.

GSB came running out after us and caught up with us in the alley. He was nice and sweet and flattered by KA’s comment. Oh, and he was also about 3 years old (okay, maybe more like 23 but you get the idea). We made plans with GSB to meet up on Wednesday at the PH (he’s never been). As we were walking away, I got a little sad because BD and KA hadn’t included me in the PH plans (I was a little drunk at this point…), so I said “Hey, what about me?” BD thought the only way to resolve this was to take my face and shake it a little and say, “Babydoll, get it under control!” This might not seem funny to you reading all this, but it was hilarious to us because 1) we were drunk, 2) it was not so long ago that I had to do an email version of the “get yourself under control” message to BD (to help her get out of a moment of stress regarding a dumb boy), AND 3) it was super unexpected. The shaking knocked some sense back into me and we carried on.

We proceeded to PMs where we paid $5 and waited in line to determine that it sort of sucks now. After a drink and a dance (and a long wait for the bathroom), we wanted to leave. And it was at this point where BD decided to break the rules. It was past midnight and we were two drinks in…and BD wanted more beyond the sanctioned 2. She proceeded with the official rule amendment process and I approved the changes. 2 drinks turned into 5 with a shot (details on that forthcoming) and midnight turned into 4:30am (details on that forthcoming).

Back to TUG…

Now, some history is in order. KA and BD are TUG regulars. They have known and crushed on the bartenders G and his little brother S (henceforth known as GLB) for a while. Earlier in the night, GLB served us drinks and we all sort of flirted with him. When we went back to TUG we tried to pick back up where we left off. He seemed interested and so did G, who kept checking us out in the background.

When we got back to TUG we wanted GLB to serve us again, but the bar was crowded on that side. So we went to the other side and tried to get his attention. I was the closest to the bar so it was my job to flag him down. I was going to just wave like a normal person but KA didn’t think that would work. She thought it best to wave more like a robot and actually took my arm and pumped it up and down. This was a marked improvement over BD’s earlier eager, wide-eyed smile and child-like wave upon first seeing GLB. In laughing about all the different waving styles, we managed to get his attention and he came down to see us.

Aside from ordering drinks, our master plan to get him talking to us was: “We have a bet about whether or not you have a tattoo.” It turns out he didn’t. KA said, “That was what I though!” and then somehow convinced GLB to do a shot with us. It was a red-snapper shot. Not sure what that is but it was red and good. After our shot and some intellectually stimulating tattoo discussions, we thought it best to leave the bar for a bit and went back to our positions further into the interior of TUG. BD and I met some boys playing darts. They wanted us to play too but were all way too serious about the dart game for our drunken attention. KA was talking with some guy called R for a while, so BD and I decided to go back to GLB. BD has a little crush on GLB so she was a little more nervous about chatting with him (I’ve been there too! The Rite-Aid incident comes to mind…). So I became the Y in this situation and took the lead. After the wittiest drunken banter, we managed to get GLB’s number and agreed to possibly meet up with GLB and G after they closed down. But they said this would take about an hour. SO…we had an hour or so to kill.

At this point, things became a little fuzzy. BD went to the bathroom, KA ran into an ex B employee, and I made it my mission to find something to keep us busy until GLB and G were ready. That something turned out to be a little bitty baby Marine named M. By “little bitty baby” I mean that he just turned 21. But he was nice and flattering and wanted to hang out. He wanted my number. You may ask yourself, WHY ever would I give my number to a brand-spanking shiny new 21 year old? The reasons: 1) officially, being out of the womb and all, he falls under “policy,” and 2) he manipulated me by saying, “I’ll list your number in my phone under the title ‘Cutest Girl’.” Who can pass that up? BD and KA were unsure about hanging out with him and his friends, but they were nice. Especially this one girl from Brazil. The baby marine then further impressed me by giving me the best piggyback ride ever (up a hill, down the street, with another girl on my back and then up two flights of stairs!). During this crazy piggyback period, I remember hearing BD in the background saying repeatedly, “He’s under policy! He’s under policy!” and then KA and BD thought it would be funny to intermittently hide the back of my thong (that stuck out while straddling the back of this baby marine) and then pulling it out further, snapping it, and laughing lots. It was all very fun.

We hung out with the marine and his friends (and their three teeny tiny dogs) for a while then caught a taxi and went to our post-HB bar Mecca, RCC. The fun continued as we ordered and ravenously consumed the following: a child’s order of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, an Oreo milkshake with a side of heavenly hot fudge, and Wings-n-Things-II with cheese on top of the fries (because it’s better that way). We made friends with a group of guys across from us by giving them our extra fries and then by making fun of them for drinking virgin OJ (what’s the point of OJ at 3am sans champagne or vodka?). I think they were into us but I personally had more fun making fun of them. They enjoyed watching BD give me that head-shaking “get yourself under control” move because they thought, as most gross drunk guys do, that that would lead to us making out or something. They were disappointed.

During our RCC visit, BD called GLB but he didn’t answer. We weren’t sad though because Wings n Things II were better than GLB with a side of G.

Then we went home to KA’s where we reflected on the night. At one point, KA was talking about how she wants to date a hot guy. It was 4am, we were drunk and we were very very giggly. So the conversation escalated to the point that we were shrieking with laugher and practically yelling to one another that “KA just needed to f*ck a hot man!” Then, out of nowhere, we heard a small knock on KA’s window...her neighbor and a father of small children said with a weary voice, “it’s 4:30 am…can you guys keep it down?” We felt horrible! We ruined the restful sleep of a neighboring family by discussing lewd acts! We shut the window and moved further into the house. The little baby marine called and BD pretended to be me. She told him what all guys want to hear: we were about to have a pillow fight in our underwear. He wanted to come over but we didn’t want him to. We finished off the night by taking notes on all these events (so we can remember them for our little black book). The whole night was so random and fun.

BTW, the little marine sent a “booty text” message to me late Saturday night and then called again on Sunday. He was nice but I wasn’t up for babysitting.

TWF Exhaustion

So TWF is wearing me down...it's fun, so I'm not complaining, but I'm getting tired. I haven't had more than 6 hours of sleep one night this week and I have had no time to workout (well, I probably could have found the time but I've been so tired....and I was sick last week!). I think the problem is that I've got something every night, and THEN I have to come home and do homework for my crazy busy online class. Last night I went to a mixer dinner (I'll get to the details in a bit) and didn't get home until Midnight. I was supposed to do 3 online quizzes, a discussion exercise and a 75 question exam, as they are due today but I just didn't have the energy. Which has put me in a bit of a conundrum....the lesson is due at midnight tonight and since I have fun plans after work, I have to decide between either a) turning it in late and get partial credit or b) completing it during work. What to do, what to do.

To make matters worse, because I am so tired, morning coffee is especially important right now. But my whole morning pattern is off as I am cutting back on my TDG visits (due to Barista G, who "looks forward to 8:45 each morning"). And because I have to find other sources of yummy AM coffee, I am getting to work 10-15 minutes later than my normal 5-10 minutes late!

It's all in the name of fun. Really, I'm not complaining, just whining a little because of the fatigue-induced delirium.

So, the mixer dinner. This was the second dinner I went to (see my post on May 12th for details) and my first time hosting. It was fun! We went to one of my favorite restaurants--Pancho's in MB. I recruited KA to join and my brother came as a last minute male filler. Everyone was nice and easy to talk to, although the last dinner had more date-able guys (in my opinion). Afterwards we went to Harry'Os for a drink. And before I knew it, it was 11pm! And I still had to get out of there, drop off my brother, and get home to the LBC!

Something interesting though...one of the guys at the dinner just happened to be one of the guys who recently emailed me on Match.com. I knew before going to dinner last night that he was the same guy, but he didn't know it was me yet (because he didn't know what I looked like and my match.com alias is not my name). I decided not to say anything and wondered if he would figure it out. This morning I got this email from him:

"So I was at dinner last nite, trying to figure out where I have seen you before. I was going to ask "hey have we met before?" but I figured a pretty girl like you hears that line a lot.....However when I got home, I realized that I had just written to you on match.com the nite before. Did you know that last nite? Anyway, embarrassment aside, it was nice meeting you. Thanks for organizing last nite - it was fun and everyone was nice. And since we are almost neighbours, we should grab coffee or a bite sometime - I could really use some local friends. Have a good weekend. Any fun plans?"

He's nice and cute-ish (but not normally my type). So we'll see...

The Second Date and No Pizookie*

So I had my second date with Barista G last night. I was not excited about it but decided (after much nudging from friends) to give him a second chance. Both of us were tired after long days at work and didn't have much energy, so we just went for dinner at BJs.

Things went smoothly. I got a great parking spot and got to the restaurant first (I prefer being the one waiting for things like this...then I control the greeting a little bit more). He acted as though he wanted to hug or kiss when he saw me, so I quickly ended that nonsense with some non-verbal communication. And by that I mean, I turned away and asked for a table. (See? My degree IS useful!)

Dinner was uneventful except for that I realized during it why I don't like him. Sure, he's nice and friendly and confident in his work setting, but overall outside of work, he is awkward and not the best conversationalist. It could be because he's nervous, but aside from all that we don't have a lot to talk about. We have some similar dreams and hobbies, but we're at very different places in life. Those are the main reasons. But once I decided this, I could start focusing on some smaller, very insignificant reasons we should not date. Here are two of them:

1) He didn't order a pizookie. I think he just doesn't like sweets! And while that is definitely not a deal-breaker, once the deal is already decidedly broken, "liking desserts" becomes a more significant standard.

2) After noticing my shivering, goose-pimply skin and clattering teeth, he didn't shut the window right behind us. This is less of a big deal, as perhaps he thought that would be unfair to the other consumers (who were maybe still hot even after the A/C, fans and cool ocean breezes blew tempests through the restaurant). But, once again, we're analyzing non-deal-breaking things in light of the fact that the deal was already broken.

After dinner he walked me to my car. Upon approaching the vehicle I realized we were coming up to that awkward good-bye moment. But I escaped it by jetting quickly to sanctuary of the busy street and avoiding what could have been a more safe, side-walk smooch.

I was home by 9:30 (yippee!) and didn't get coffee this morning (at least, not from him). But I did get a text message from him after the date saying "You looked hot tonight. I liked your earrings. Sorry I forgot to mention it."

Ahhh...he's sweet. But not for me. Now no one can say I didn't give him a shot though. I'm continuing the move forward on my unofficial campaign to date a nice guy.

*for those of you who are not familiar with a pizookie (pizza + cookie), it would behoove you to discover it's magic. The pizookie is my manna. It has come to symbolize all that is good in the world. It is a marriage of half-baked cookie dough served right out of the oven in a deep-dish pizza pan and covered with bountiful scoops of gourmet vanilla-bean ice cream. Need I say more?

Vitamin G and Y

Hey, what's going on with you two? You're like best blog friends. You're always commenting on each others' blogs, leaving funny little messages here and there about exotic burns and expensive shoes...It's good that KA and myself brought you two together!

To anyone who didn't believe it, good can come from vapid pursuits like writing about boys, shoes, and weekly fashion themes. Barriers are crossed, degrees un-separated, friendships made. It almost brings a tear to my eye.

Match.com: More fun as a Blonde?

I last did Match.com a year ago right after my ex dumped me. In between that stint and this one, my hair changed from blonde to dark brown, and I've lost some weight. The brown looks better on me and any girl will argue that weight-loss is pretty much always a good thing. So all in all, I think I look better now. Maybe not a lot better, but better nonetheless. BUT, I'm getting about a third the amount of hits (emails, winks, profile viewings) that I got a year ago, when I looked worse and was more fat. It's very interesting....

KA pointed out it could be related to the number of Match users right now (WHAT, it might not actually be about me?!?!), but I really think it's the blonde thing. I am very content with my brown hair and have no plans on changing, but I think perhaps blondes do get more attention.

FOTW (Miss JH) and a New Office

Happy Wednesday! I am feeling like 95% better about PB. The one good thing about being older and having gone thru more cr*p is that you bounce back faster. Which is good. Now I'm all bounced back to a PB-Free lifestyle.

FRIEND OF THE WEEK for 6/6: Miss JH

It was tough picking just one this week, as all the friends have rallied in support of my PB obsession and the ensuing mini-"I'm-single-and-want-a-nice-fun-boyfriend-who- will-pamper-me" crisis. Notable amongst everyone is CH, KA, Babydoll, HB, Y, and my coworker (who does not read this blog) KL. BUT I HAVE to pick one so this week it is: Miss JH. Her "TWF" plan was inspirational and motivating. And beyond giving me the framework on how to get through my sad little heart-sprain, she also made plans with me! We're goign to a wine and cheese thing soon (two of the best things in the world together can't be bad) and we're maybe doing a comedy club soon. And I am pro-laughter so this should be good. So thanks Miss JH for the TWF plan and for the encouraging words.

OFFICE MOVE
Today I moved back into an office. This is my 6th move here. I'm really good at this transient lifestyle and was all done in about an hour. People keep saying things like, "How do you like the new space?" and "Wow...so you're in here now?" And all i can say is, "Yeah, I am." I think they expect me to show some enthusiasm in response to the new digs, but, really, I don't care.

Here's why: In 2.5 years, I've....

-moved 6 times
-worked in 2 different buildings
-had 4 different bosses
-4 different positions
-5 different product categories

So I am numb when it comes to change (at work). Just tell me what to do and where you want me to sit, and I'll get it done. It's not that I don't care though, it's just that I don't care that much. Maybe some of this ambivalence comes from the fact that this is all temporary.

There are some good things about my new work home though. I'm closer to the kitchen, bathroom and exit. It's more quiet. It's warm in the morning (because of all the sunshine). It's closer to L's desk where an endless supply of mini peanut butter cups exist, and it's very close to the WBF (but I don't really care about that). I think my plants will like it here.

"X Of the Week" Updates

Sorry about all the "woe is me" crap below. I'm feeling better and I will not be sappy again. I have some other business to post on.

FASHION THEME OF THE WEEK
I've become a little off-track on this due to everything else going on. Last week I did do a half-*ss attempt at Linen Week. I did good until Thursday when it hurt to be mobile and then I start picking clothes based on comfort instead of by theme. So, I will have to revisit a real linen week further into the summer. This week I have established no theme. Yesterday was more about comfort and today, because of recent heart-cracks (a way tiny version of a heart-break), I decided to dress summery and cute in a skirt with sandals. What better way to get back at a guy then by looking super cute. Even if he won't see how I look, someone somewhere is keeping score of these sorts of things, and I got myself a point today!

So no theme this week. However, I am looking forward to next week. I have several ideas: skirt week, white week (in honor of an upcoming white party and of course, in honor of P. Diddy too), and possibly bold pattern week.

FRIEND OF THE WEEK
I have a new friend of the week. I'll announce it tomorrow. I have to get caught up on the prizes though....I'm over three weeks behind. To all the previous winners of this prestigious award, do remain patient. I hope to send out the prizes this weekend.

BARISTA G
We have a date for tomorrow night. I went for coffee this morning and he sent me a text afterwards saying "I want to see you again soon." So, tomorrow it is.

Another Layer on the Callous

So PB is not going to call. It's been too long now. Which makes me really, really confused. I do understand the concept of a vacation fling. I've had them before. But this seemed different...he went way above and beyond what he needed to do for a vacation fling so that he seemed like he genuinely cared. I had a great time in Cabo and he definitely was a part of that, and I won't let his not calling now effect my memories of the trip. BUT, I really do not get guys. I am sad, confused and angry. I guess the only good about this is that it's hardening me further. It's like another layer on the callous. The big protective callous that is my heart. (sorry from the melodrama...DS taught me that).

With the help of Miss JH, I have instituted a plan. It's a two week plan. Like the induction period of the South Beach diet. For two weeks I am going to keep myself super busy (which, I usually manage to do without such a plan). Two weeks of fun (TWF). And by the end of those two weeks, I won't care about stupid PB.

Here are some of my TWF plans:
Another Mixer Dinner Thursday night
going out in HB Friday Night w/ Babydoll and KA
My mom's birthday Celebration
Y's birthday Celebration Saturday night
Sunday brunch with the Private
Another date with Barista G (yeah, he's still around...)
Getting together with JR (best friend from 4th grade - high school)
Book Club next Wednesday
A friend's going away party a week from Saturday
NK's b-day party at a shi-shi Hollywood club a week from Saturday also
A Wine and Cheese party two weeks from last night
Comedy club trip pending with Miss JH

There. Two weeks of tons of fun. Plus all the homework I have to do in between for my human development course. Oh yeah, and work and sleep and exercise.

And oh yeah, I did join match.com last night. It's official...I am going to browse through men online for a month. It's like fast food dating--large unhealthy portions, fast and cheap.

PB who??

Emergencies: Of the Intestine and the Heart

I spent Friday afternoon in the ER. It was interesting, in light of my career goals, and scary, because I felt like sh*t. But in the end, it was good that I went. I had acute gastroenteritis probably caused by the parasite. I got the pleasure of experiencing an IV, a CT-Scan and 24 ounces of gross apple-juice flavored iodine stuff that lights up my insides once my IV is filled with X-Ray contrast. Not a pleasant feeling.

But, the medicine is working and aside from a low-grade fever and being a little tired, today I'm almost back to normal. Physically, that is.

You may have noticed no updates on Barista G and WBF lately...that's because I'm not interested in either of them at all right now. And this is because of two things: 1) Life lately has made them less of a focus for me. With Cabo, car trouble ($1200 worth!) ,being sick last week, getting sicker on Friday, and all the HW for my intense class, I have been too busy for thoughts of them. 2) PB. This is the guy I met in Cabo. At the moment, I am obsessed with him. Which means no thoughts are left for petty musings on WBF and Barista G.

PB was the nicest guy I've ever met. Well maybe not the nicest guy I've ever met but he was the nicest a guy has ever been to me (without being boring). I met him in Cabo, but he happens to live 1 mile from my house. ONE MILE FROM MY HOUSE. He just got back yesterday from Cabo (he drove down with a friend), and I REALLY want and REALLY hope that he calls me. So now my mind is filled with anxious thoughts of "I wonder if he'll call." I hate those thoughts more than I hated having an IV inject painful X-Ray contrast fluid into me.

The annoying thing about all this is that now I find myself actually, genuinely liking a guy. I was supposed to be a "bachelor" though and this wasn't supposed to happen. So if I like him and he doesn't call me, then I'm going to be really annoyed that he got under my skin and forced me out of my "I don't want a boyfriend" phase.

If nothing comes of things with PB, I may try out internet dating again. I have mixed feelings on that as I really dislike internet dating. But now I sort of want a boyfriend, or just some guy to hang out with and have fun with...and where else do you find one these days other than on the internet? (sigh). Why do you men have to cause so much trouble?!?!

Side Effects of Mexico

Aside from fabulous memories and a slight tan, I have brought a little something else back from Mexico with me. I have some sort of intenstinal ailment. My stomach is so gurgly and noisy that I couldn't sleep at all last night. Since it has gotten worse and since my lack of appetite has now increased to bits of nasauea, I am going to the doctors today. Yuck. I hate the doctors, but I do want to stop feeling as though my stomach is going to implode...keep your fingers crossed.

Once Upon a Time in Cabo

Once upon a time, four single, mid-twenty-something girls from California decided to go to Cabo San Lucas for Memorial Day Weekend. Y was a fantastic, LA-based hotshot lawyer, so important to her firm that we were not even sure she’d be able to take this vacation. But if she could peel herself away long enough, a vacation would be good for her. Then there was CH--a brilliant PhD student from the Bay Area who was looking forward to spending some quality girlfriend-time, even though she would miss her boyfriend…well, maybe only a little. Next, there’s Babydoll (BD). She was the last to decide on joining the group in Baja. She had recently ended a relationship with a guy who just did not realize what a fantastic person she was, so she was up for having a fabulous, fun-filled summer without him. And finally, myself (ML or the other Babydoll), who was not only looking forward to a fun time with the girls but was also looking forward to celebrating the one year anniversary of being dumped by her dumb ex. And what better way to one-up a dumb ex by having more fun than him? Cabo was the perfect place to do all this.

Aside from one small glitch (Y not getting on her flight—though it was not her fault), the first day of our trip was remarkably smooth. Our flights were all mainly on time, we found each other at the airport easily, we got a taxi and found the hotel without any problems, and we checked in without them questioning the number of people in the room (our reservation was for 2). Our hotel was beautiful and appropriately luxurious. Our room was located feet from the pool (and more importantly the pool bar), and we spent that afternoon eating quesadillas and pina colodas in the sun. In the early evening, we went back o the room, got ready to go out, and waited for Y to arrive. She got in a little late but was ready to go quickly after her arrival. We grabbed a great dinner in Cabo of—get this, quesadillas and mixed drinks—and then we were off. We started in CaboWabo, had about 6 shots of rum each then went to Squid Row where the real Cabo debauchery was. It was a fun night, full of drinking, dancing, laughing, flirting, and meeting boys. We laughed about silly boy challenges we created for each other and at the boys we met and their corresponding nicknames (Greyhound, Anna-from-New-York guy, etc.), then we went back to the hotel around 3:30. Because there was no available Jack in the Box or Rocky Cola Café in sight, we ended the night by raiding the mini bar. And so it was with bellies full of Pringles, M&Ms and Cheese-ums that we drifted off to sleep that first night...basically the perfect Cabo day, right? How could it get any better, you might ask? Well, it does.

So Babydoll met a guy that night. Let’s call him B. He was part of a group she and I had been eyeing for awhile during one part of the night in Squid Row. He had invited all of us to come to a party he and his friends were having the next night. In fact, he gave us this flier for the party:




The party sounded fun—lots of people at a big house in the mountains. Why wouldn’t we go? And so the next morning, we woke up at noon, managed to have a lunch NOT consisting of quesadillas, and lounged around in the sun. The flier said the party started at 6:30 and was a pool party. We planned on being fashionably late (about an hour) and since we weren’t up for any of this pool non-sense—being girls who planned on going out after the party, swimming there just didn’t fit in with our schedule—we started getting ready about 6:30 or so. But, also being the girls that we are, we took longer to get ready then planned. And so it was in the dark that we began our trek up into the neighborhood of Pedegral towards Villa Clara Vista.

As we passed the guard gate and started winding up steep cobble stone streets, we began getting a little nervous. We had no idea what to expect. But after we wound higher and higher into the mountains, with the taxi driving second-guessing each turn onto every unmarked street, our nerves increased. Thoughts of “I wonder if people will still be swimming,” and “I wonder if we’ll be dressed appropriately,” turned to questions of “I wonder where this place is,” and “how will we get a cab out when we want to leave.” And as we continued to pass cliff-side mansions, questions of “How will we walk back down the mountain in our CFM heels if we can’t get a taxi? What if these guys are going to be mean and hurt us? What if this party is full of serious drug use that makes us uncomfortable?” We laughed these thoughts off, each of us ignoring the fact that we were doing all those things our mothers told us not to do, and pressed on towards this elusive Clara Vista. Eventually, the road stopped in front of a large white house that showed no signs of a party. We decided two of us should stay with the taxi—in case the party was lame or unsafe—and two should go investigate. The buddy system helps fend off people who want to harm the innocent, right? So Babydoll went (because she was the connection to this party), and Y volunteered I go with her since my non-speaking Spanish ways were of no use in the taxi. I reluctantly agreed and followed Babydoll out into the driveway. We walked closer to the front doors, which were open, and saw that there were a couple of guys sitting on a couch inside watching TV and beyond that a few people in a pool. Not the size of a “flier” party but enough for us to think maybe something social is going on…As we got closer, I got more nervous and slowed down and crouching behind Babydoll. She noticed this and with a frustrated hand wave behind the back said in her most stern voice, “Walk closer!” I said okay but proceeded to still scurry along ducking several feet behind her. I have to give Babydoll props though—when she got to the front door, she walked right in and calmly asked for B. Without her to shield me from the scary boys, I sort of jumped to the side of the path in the grass, and only went into the house after guilt set in that I let her go alone. The boys started yelling for B and then Babydoll walked off towards where he was, leaving me exposed to all these unknown guys. I decided now was the perfect opportunity to go update Y and CH in the taxi on the situation and walked out.

When I got back to the taxi I was greeted by wide-eyed, head-shaking versions of CH and Y quietly saying, “We don’t want to go in.” I didn’t know what to do…I was scared and they were scared. I didn’t want to leave the sanctuary our taxi had become but I knew that Babydoll was in there with B. Fortunately, I didn’t have to make a decision. Babydoll and B came out. He asked how we all were and when he said that they were all planning on leaving to go to the bars in town soon, this somehow made us feel better. At least enough to leave the confines of the taxi anyway. Once again, we didn’t listen to the words of our mothers. We reluctantly said good-bye to our only method of getting back to the outside world and walked into the home of these strangers.

(due to the graphical nature of this post, the content is spread across three different entries)

Upon entering Clara Vista, the first things I noticed were white marble floors, white vaulted ceilings, large open French doors, and an infinity pool out on the deck overlooking all of Cabo, the Sea of Cortez and the Pacific. Yes, it was quite breathtaking but nothing compared to what was IN the pool. Swimming in the pool were 12 men. 12 men, each and every one of them HOT. They were just swimming, and having a good time, being all hot. And there were no other woman in sight. As someone coined it later in the night, it was like MAN SOUP.

Now, this made me feel a little out of place. Not because I’m not a man, but because I’m not used to being surrounded by all that hotness. I literally didn’t know what to do. I tried to act cool and followed the group further into the house when one of the hot guys took off his board-shorts and threw them at our feet. Now one of the hot men were naked. I started blushing and I couldn’t look up at them. We then walked into the kitchen where 4 or 5 other hot men were making drinks. They made us one and there were introductions all around. I took a sip from my margarita, noticed someone walking in from the pool area and turned around. The NAKED one was walking towards us. Still naked. This time, I didn’t act cool. I said “oh my god!” out loud and covered my face. Literally. But I couldn’t not look for long…I looked back in time to see that this Adonis had a backside that gave Brad Pitt’s physique in Fight Club a run for his money. Seriously. I’m glad I looked.

After recovering from this, one of the guys gave us a tour of the house. The house was gorgeous! Everything about this was strange so far—not only were the men hot and without other women, but we were all in a gorgeous mansion perched upon a mountaintop with them. And maybe the strangest thing yet, these guys all come from So Cal and they were actually nice. Yes! They were HOT, NICE, Guys from So Cal. Those words do not often go together in a sentence. We were left with only one question…WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?!?!

After a while a couple more groups of girls came to the party, but the man: woman ration remained in our favor. Later a few more people came including B’s guy friends from the LBC, P and S. An hour or so beyond that, we began taking taxis down to our Cabo Mecca, Squid Row. Despite all the hot guys at the party, there was one in particular that I hung out with more that night. B’s friend P. In fact, once getting down into town, Babydoll and B, P and I, Y, CH, S and a few others hung out together for most of the night. P ended up being pretty nice and we decided to all hang out together the next day. He said he’d pick us up and we’d go hang out at this cool beach he knew about between Cabo and San Jose del Cabo. We thought this was a great idea, and for some reason we thought it was also a good idea to give P an extra key card to our hotel room (what was that about ignoring the things our mothers told us?). Of course this was after having about five Jell-O shots, and honestly what doesn’t sound like a good idea after five shots of vodka-spiked gelatin? The night carried on with the standard amounts of dancing, drinking, flirting, etc. and a group of us ended back up at Clara Vista for a moonlight swim over the fine town of Cabo.

The next morning, we woke up around noon, had a lunch of quesadillas (see a pattern?) and worked hard to create the perfect poolside umbrella-covered haven (some of us were sunburned) where we planned to sit the rest of the day doing what we were best at, nothing. At around 2pm P called. I was surprised to hear from him at all, and even more surprised that he had not only remembered all the plans we had made for that day, but that he had actually gone about all morning action upon them. Boys that do what they say they’re going to do? Boys that PLAN things?? WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?? P said he’d pick all of us up in about a half hour. He said to be ready for swimming in the pool/beach but to bring stuff to go to dinner and out that night too. Being girls, this wasn’t as easy as it sounds. After much inter-group consultation we managed to collect our necessary stuff, pick out our best outfits, and be ready in time.

P and B picked us up and swept us off to the Cabo Surf Hotel.

All I can say is that it’s a good thing we didn’t listen to our mothers and instead went with these strangers in their truck to an isolated beach-front hotel to drink copious amounts alcohol together. It ended up being the best day! P had bought our favorite drinks and got a fabulous beachfront room for us to all hang out in. We spent the afternoon drinking Negro Modelos, hanging out in a Hammock on the balcony, swimming in the infinity pool, watching surfers and enjoying the sun. It was seriously a perfect with only one glitch: it just didn’t make sense. Nice, attractive, smart guys from So Cal doing all this…WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?!?!

And so, the weekend didn’t go as expected. It was better. I got to spend the weekend laughing over silly jokes and shared experiences (warning: inside jokes to follow…grilll-grill-griill, ready? that’s epic, for reals? it’s my most excited outfit!). I got to spend three glorious sun-filled days with friends who are really fun (especially Babydoll), fabulous (especially Babydoll), beautiful (especially Babydoll), and always up for anything (especially Babydoll). I discovered that nice, smart, good-looking, single guys from Southern California DO exist. And finally, but perhaps most important, I learned that these sorts of guys are best served all together in a ladle full of man soup!

Seconds, please.

The End.

P.S. Because all the Clara Vista and Cabo Surf Hotel experiences were directly linked to Babydoll’s initial connection with B, she is now officially the de facto Friend of the Year. Your large and extravagant award will arrive in the mail shortly.