Hellooo friends, gather round while I tell you about the time that we saw MGMT perform on the USS Midway. This tale begins like any good story should, with Mexican food.
This weekend, I found myself in Hillcrest cheering on the San Diego Pride Parade. My boyfriend and I were starving and made a quick pit stop at Tajima! This little gem exceeded all expectations and was truly delicious. Apparently they just recently opened up their HIllcrest location, too, so I was really pleased with how legit everything was.
We both ended up ordering:
“Chilled egg noodle with BBQ pork, pork belly, ramen egg, green onion, sesame seed served with house dipping broth.”
The broth tasted like garlicy, buttery heaven. We’ll definitely be back!
Behold, a world of ramentastic nomz.
I wanted to love Megan Abbott’s The Fever, I truly did. And after binge reading all three Gillian Flynn books last week and seeing she had endorsed it, I caved and bought it on my Kindle. But the story just didn’t grip me how it should have and there were WAY too many red herrings in the mix. Like, more red herrings than an episode of Scooby Doo. Proceed with caution, there are going to be some major spoilers ahead:
Del Mar San Diego County Fair. As a local, I’ve gone to the fair every year since I was old enough to demand more ride tickets with fingers still sticky from ice cream. This year, the fair paid tribute to The Beatles.
Do you like stuffing your face with free food, taking advantage of open bars, and dancing to your best ability despite being so full you can barely move? Well then, my friend, you have to go to a Yelp party. It’s easy. All you have to do is sign up and write about your favorite businesses. And if you hope, pray, and keep on eating— you will get invited to a Yelp party. I went to Yelp Rocks the Boat with my wonderful boyfriend last Wednesday, June 18 and could not have had a better time. We set sail on the Inspiration Hornblower (which is a tri-level boat, eh HEM, no big deal or anything.) Not only did we take in stunning sunset views while circling around the San Diego Harbor, but the good folks at Yelp truly outdid themselves. Each level was stocked with different vendors from Nothing Bundt Cakes to Werewolf the pub in addition to different entertainment on each floor from live bands to electronic DJs.
So dear reader, prepare to live vicariously through me and these low quality cell phone pics. Don’t worry, if your face is green with envy, find solace in the fact that I can’t see you through the screen ;)
Short ribs with sweet potato mash and of course some tableside Yelp swag.
During my freshman year of college, I found myself dealing with my very first broken heart. My longest relationship of a year and half had crumbled under my feet. Although I wish I could say I pulled myself up by the bootstraps and stayed calm and collected, that’s just not what happened. Instead, I listened to a lot of angsty Indie music, got bad highlights, and went to too many parties. While reluctantly walking down the road to recovery and trying to forget about my lame ex-boyfriend, I also made some major dating mistakes.
Boys on motorcycles have always held a special place in my heart. I was set-up with a co-worker’s friend and could not have been more stoked when he picked me up on his bike. We spent our first date at a taco shop, where I’m pretty sure I paid for our romantic dinner of burritos and horchata (even if the conversation wasn’t interesting, it was delicious). I swiped my credit card for our 10 dollar meal and we left to take in a sunset beach walk. But then something horrible happened. As we headed west to sandy shorelines, I noticed my companion was taking a while to respond. To my horror, I looked up to find my dinner date with a dollar in his mouth. A crusty, who-knows-where-it’s-been, dollar. When I asked young Taco Teeth why he had currency in his molars, his response was- “Oh, I had some food in there, just trying to get it out!” This new aged dentistry was enough to have my skin, and teeth, crawling for weeks thereafter.
We met at a party and exchanged numbers. He was a study abroad student. His style was effortless and his accent was refreshing. Plus, he was studying to become a dentist and I knew my mom would love that. We went out for coffee and then decided to see “Inception”. Lattes and chitchat had been charming if not downright enjoyable. In the dark of the theatre, I could feel him staring at me but chose instead to keep staring at Leonardo DiCaprio to take my mind off my first date jitters. That’s when it happened. Over the course of several minutes, he inched his way closer and closer to me until he was practically sitting in my lap. I’m not a small girl by any means, but also can’t comfortably support the weight of a full-grown man. Then, he started rubbing his nose on my cheek. Like butterfly kissing my face and rubbing his nose all over me from side to side. It was so weird. I think he was trying to get me to make out with him? I still honestly don’t know. After a few minutes of me awkwardly scooting away, I whispered, “I have a headache. I feel like, really gross. Can you drive me home?” I wouldn’t get to watch Inception in its entirety for a few more years. Sorry, Leo.
In what was maybe the worst dating decision I’ve ever made, I gave my number to a guy who was shopping at Ross. To be honest, I don’t know what I was doing shopping at Ross. No matter the purpose of the visit, I found myself speaking up to a handsome, muscular, albeit hairy- 6’5″ man. He was so tall, like damn. Think like an attractive, giant version, of a Jersey Shore douche. He was hot but not the sharpest tool in the shed. For whatever reason, I ended up hanging out with him and we made out. Our chemistry was lacking so in days to come when he texted me to hang out again, I quickly made up an excuse. Although I should have been honest, I told him I had to babysit my younger brother. When he asked me out a second time, I concocted a different excuse. This apparently enraged him, causing this gigantic man to leave me threatening voicemails and text messages for several weeks, if not months. He even came into the restaurant I worked at and asked to be seated in my section, with his mom. My manager asked him to leave, because he was a nice dude. Later, I would discover the giant’s Myspace (this was back in the Dark Ages) and find that his username was aptly: Beast Bear.
Religion is a make or break point in many relationships whether they’re romantic or otherwise. I would describe myself as a spiritual person but not someone who subscribes to any specific denomination. In early 2010, I found myself dating a super Christian guy. I found his commitment to faith endearing even if I didn’t follow the same moral guidelines. He was kind, funny, and a good dancer to boot. A month or two into us dating we were out at dinner and he looked at me with his wide blue eyes, “Can I tell you something I’ve never told anyone?” As an egomaniac, I assumed he was about to confess his undying love for me and to hear that I rocked his world in the sack, the reality was much more unsettling. “Sure”, I replied between sips of Diet Coke. “OK, well, I’ve just…I’ve always wanted to know if I could murder someone and get away with it. Like, am I smart enough to hide a body from investigators?” Baby Jesus in all his infant glory could not carry my feet out of that restaurant fast enough. I wonder if he ever did it- and if he did, would we ever know?!
Although I’m glad to have some dating experience under my belt, I feel that if put in the same position now, I would work on loving myself instead of finding weird dudes to hang out with. Once I stopped looking for Mr. Right, he came waltzing into my life and we’ve been together for three wonderful years. And although I’d like to say there’s someone out there for everyone- I have the sinking feeling that there may never be a Mrs. Beast Bear.