About LA

Like I said, we don't usually have weekend plans unless someone is visiting. So Saturday morning after GTL (or really just gym), we were watching "Hot Dog Paradise" on Travel Channel. Don't judge. After I nixed Shaun's idea of finding a Nathan's in San Diego, I agreed to road trip to LA for the apparently famous Pink's in Hollywood. We called our new SD friend Jared (well, old friend, new to SD) since he was born but not so much raised in LA. The three of us proceeded north, driving through some crazy man-made smog. Shaun says it's so foggy because we're hiding our military bases so no one can fly over and see what's going on. Sounds logical, but as we sat in 2.5 hours of traffic, I was thinking the smog might just be from fuel emissions.

We finally arrived at Pink's and the sun was shining. I got really stressed with the choices, plus we had to wait in line for half an hour so I changed my mind 55 times, but finally went with the Guadalajara dog, which had relish, tomatoes, sour cream, and I added cheese to replace onions. Meanwhile a pimped out Disney Mustang creepily pulled up next to the line and just sat there. It had stuffed animals out the wazoo, and tons of Disney paintings all over it. Maybe it was supposed to be make kids happy, but nothing says child molester like such a vehicle. Back at the ranch, I actually ate the whole hot dog and it might've been the most food I've eaten in one sitting in quite a long time. Worth the 2.5 hour trip? Probably.

After the feast, we drove to Venice Beach, but all of a sudden the entire city was in a giant, cold cloud. It was so foggy, I went from being in a tank top to a jacket and scarf. I can now kind of see why people like living in LA though. We drove through some very nice tree-lined hoods in Beverly Hills, and Santa Monica. It's a little more city than San Diego, which I liked, but the traffic is everything people say and more. It's horrendous. We don't have that in San Diego really at all, but also Shaun and I don't have to drive in rush hour since I walk to work and he works from home. But the only traffic we've been in was after a Chargers game, when we decided to drive to Costco and took a wrong turn right past the stadium.

We walked along the Venice boardwalk, but note - it's not a good place after dark. During the day, there are lots of freaks, magicians, flea markets, and trickery, but also lots of tourists and it's sunny and happy. But after dark, the good people go home, and the freaks and magicians turn out to be homeless and angry. Cops drive along the boardwalk, people say many bad words and someone even burped in Shaun's face. So we walked back to the car and drove back to Santa Monica to go to Jared's favorite place - Urth Caffe. Seriously good green tea lattes and pumpkin cheesecake at a trendy little outdoor table next to a fountain. Felt like Europe! Or maybe that was the girl speaking with an accent next to us. All in all, LA felt like an extension of San Diego, with a little less Mexican food and a little more shopping.

Why You Should Move to CA...

I'm bringing Old Faithful back to life. This blog got me through four years in New York City, before I finally achieved my only goal in life - to move to California. Now I'm going to use it to document my new CA life and try to get all of my friends and family to move out here too :)

I've been living in San Diego since the end of June, and I'm still trying to figure out what I'm doing here. My new goal in life is to do a headstand in yoga (I joined a studio), win the lottery (I've played twice so far, which is 2x more times than I've played in the past), and honestly, I have no idea what else.

I still work in media, and it's pretty much exactly like my NY job, except instead of a cube with high gray walls and no natural light until after 6pm; I sit under a large vent which blasts cold air on me until after 6pm, and it's more of a large desk versus a cube. After work, I go to yoga to work on that blasted headstand and watch TV. I watch way more TV than I used to for two reasons. One, we didn't have cable last year. And two, I have nothing else to do. Well, except blog and play kickball with work on Thursdays. I'm obviously expanding my horizons if I'm playing a team sport. I'm not really the sporty type.

It's a very strange, unsettling, liberating feeling to move to a place where you know no one and your close friends and family live thousands of miles away. I can't imagine doing this alone, and this has to be good for my relationship, since Shaun and I spend every non-working hour together. Sometimes I even walk home for lunch (he works from home), so there's another hour. On the weekends, we try to do different, touristy things so we don't just watch TV. So far we've gone to the zoo, played tennis, explored new neighborhoods, wine tasted on 2-3 occasions, went on a booze cruise, drove Corvettes, and when in doubt, we go to the beach. Rough life.

Pacific Beach, while having a cocktail at a pool

I left NY because I hated the snow that smothered us last winter, I was sick of of feeling sick on the subway, and something about California captured my attention since I was a kid. It was the perfect opportunity to move, because Shaun was ready for a new job and our lease was almost over, so we just sort of did it. It was really stressful at the time but now it seems like no big deal. Overall, I'm less anxious I think, although I have a very intense fear of someone falling off my 27th floor balcony. I really miss my social circle and always having something to do, especially on the weekends. I hate missing important things, like bridal showers for my best friends who are basically all getting married this year. I even miss the homeless people in NY, who weren't even half as insane and drugged out as these San Diego bums.

But wait, this blog is supposed to convince everyone to move here! On the positive side, you won't find more perfect scenery unless you move to Bora Bora, but I heard it's really expensive there and the food is terrible. We have amazing Mexican food, and it's cheap. We have a lot of fro yo places, with toppings such as frosted animal crackers. It's 70 and sunny every single day. I don't even know why I still get weather alerts. One time it rained (drizzled) and everyone was so confused and couldn't drive an inch. I can be at the beach in less than 10 minutes (I go to Coronado which was voted the #1 beach in CA). Wine is really cheap and overall rent is less expensive than Manhattan. Plus I live here, and I need to be entertained! What more could you ask for, really? Besides maybe more friends and family in the vicinity...

La Jolla

I Didn't Forget You, Blog. I'm Just Preoccupied.

My poor blog. I still love you, even though I'm now blogging at www.jfklax.com too.

The Real Housewife of NJ Experiment

The weirdest thing about moving to the city from the country is timing. Everything is delayed if you live a city life. 

For one, people get married later. While my 25-year-old friends at home are getting engaged and married, my New York friends, for the most part, are waiting until they're in the 27/28 range (however, they still live together "in sin" as my family reminded me yesterday).

Kids are an entirely different story. There are a bunch of people at home with kids, but I don't know even one city friend planning to have a baby anytime soon. Mainly because we live in teeny apartments. Where would we put a child? My boyfriend said we'd have to hand the kid a blanket and say, "There's the couch. Good luck."

I don't know of anyone willing to move to Scarsdale or Greenwich, CT. That's where our bosses live. We still like to go out until 4am and a child would absolutely prevent that. Okay actually in reality, I don't go out late very often, because I prefer to not be hungover all day, but still. There are times (weddings, birthdays, random Fridays)  when we still like to go out. Also sometimes we like to blast Linkin Park or Kokomo in the mini apartment, and that would wake a sleeping baby for sure. We don't live very close to family and obviously our city friends wouldn't know how to babysit. Who would help us raise a child? Google? How would that happen? Would I have to quit my job to stay home with it or would I have to get a nanny? Or send it to daycare? How would we pay for a nanny and a child, when I struggle to pay the $1K rent a month? I can't imagine there are any decent daycares in Jersey City and how would I find a nanny I can trust? Let's say I stay at home. Would I resent it? Would I be afraid of not being able to support myself? Would the dad be able to support two people and pay rent and still be a relaxed and happy person?

I did an experiment today. I was off for the dumbest holiday ever, Columbus Day, and my boyfriend had to work. 

So I pretended to be a housewife. Naturally. 

I woke up late, made some fresh coffee from beans I ground myself, and then dusted, scrubbed, cleaned, and vacuumed for five hours. In stilettos and a dress. Okay not really, I cleaned in pajamas. 

I took an hour-long break to chat to my LA friend about our new blog. (Perhaps I'm a stay-at-home lady who gets paid to blog). After the cleaning and laundry, I took my canvas bags and went to the farmer's market. I picked up some mini baby pumpkins to decorate my mini apartment and some fresh green beans for dinner. I figured I would Google how to prepare them. Then I went to Duane Reade for laundry detergent and yogurt, followed by the Asian bodega for chicken broth and a lemon. I called my little sister to see what she was up to (watching Gossip Girl online instead of studying = another future housewife). Upon arrival at my so fresh and so clean apartment, I started making dinner for my breadwinning, heartwinning boyfriend. His favorite thing I ever made is Sunday Chicken. It's Monday, so I made Monday Chicken (same recipe). The prep time is about 1.5 hours. It has to brown, simmer, and bake in lots of wine and butter (the two keys to happiness). I learned that you must cut off both ends of the green bean and rinse and then boil in salted water for five minutes. No problem. I was doing so well that I turned on some Classic Rock and lit a candle. My lighters are missing (stolen), so I used a match for the first time ever, no joke. Sometimes a housewife has to man up. I also made rice, the 20 minute, real, Uncle Ben's kind, none of that boil in a bag crap. I also made homemade iced tea, with two regular tea bags and a Green Tea citrus one for good measure. 

The boyfriend arrived home with his briefcase just as the timer went off. He hung his hat and cloak, gave me a steamy kiss, and then sat at the table with his newspaper. Fine, it was actually ESPN on his computer and he hovered in the kitchen for a bit. Dinner was a success, except he choked on the rice and didn't like the citrus green tea. He noticed that I vacuumed though, which was nice. And he went to the common area of the building to watch football so I could write. What a darling.

All I know is that I have absolutely no energy to do the dishes, my feet hurt, and my back hurts from all the cleaning and slaving away all day. I'm a desperate housewife, and I need a dirty martini. Being a housewife isn't easy. I can't even imagine what it would be like to be a stay-at-home Mom. I'd definitely need to hire a housewife also. Tomorrow I'm going back to work, and perhaps I'll appreciate my 8 hours in a chair a bit more. It might be better than cleaning the toilet and getting splashed with boiling butter, especially if there was a screaming child in the background. DINK for life, or at least for now. 

Newsflash: I am the Female God

On the way home, I literally was grumpy and looking down and saying to myself, "God, I hope no one stops me or says anything to me. I just want to get home."

The city, maybe only New York City, is teeming with street teams, people trying to sell you things, save your soul, and get you to donate money. I said to myself, "We're harassed all day long. Yet these psychos still think it's okay to bombard us (New Yorkers) on our way home." And I always stop because I feel bad, and they always stop me because I look non-threatening with my blonde hair and underage looking face.

And then of course, a girl stopped me.

Creepy girl: Excuse me, I have a random question for you.
Me in my head: She's either going to ask where I get my hair done or if I've ever heard of Amnesty International and care about animals and babies.
Creepy girl: Have you heard of God the Female?
Me: Yes.
CG (confused): Oh, did someone already stop you?
Me: No, I've just heard of it.
CG: Well then can I ask you some questions about Scriptures in the Bible?
Me in my head: Hell no, I don't care about religion, I'm late to get home and relax, and you're weird. And why are you wearing red and showing cleavage? What is this the Mary Magdalene religion? I read DaVinci Code. I'm not amused or phased.
Me in reality: No, there are a lot of religions and I don't think any of them are right. I don't care to debate.
CG: Well this is the PROPHECY. The Female God is coming back to earth. It's PROPHESIED. The Bible talks all about God the Female. I'm from a school called "Yada Ya" (I tuned out)
Me: Good luck. I'm not interested at all.
CG: Well if someone else stops you, that might be a sign from God that you're a chosen one. You never know.
Me: Maybe. KthanksBye.

W. T. F. Religion. One of the few things that gets me adamantly fired up. No one is right. We're all just bored humans trying to reassure ourselves. And now apparently the female Jesus.. we'll call her Jessie is coming to judge the quick and the dead. And she wants me to follow her. No freaking thanks. I swear to the gods in a past life I was burned at the stake for casting spells on these idiots.

TENNIS: The Trevor Revival

Trevors have a funny way of showing up again. I haven't thought much about Trevors since taking myself out of the dating game. Not that I ever seriously dated a Trevor, but I guess I just noticed them more often, made fun of them more freely, and appreciated the fact that I have much more of an edge than they could ever hope to have. 

And then last night I went to the US Open with my work friend and rep friend. What a night! Not only did I forget how much I love playing tennis, but I forgot how much fun it was to Trevor watch! Oh right, you might be wondering what the hell is Trevor? If you don't know, refer to the Trevor post I wrote 2 years ago. Get with the program. Here's a photo too (I stole this from the Internet, if this is you, I'm sorry but it was the best Trevor photo I've ever seen and that's an honest compliment.) 

I've never been to the US Open, although I played tennis my last two years in high school and even won a JV tournament as a senior playing 1st singles... yes, but it was JV so that's awkward. This live pro match was amazing! First up it was Maria "The Grunter" Sharapova. What an intense girl! If she makes that much noise in the bedroom, I would not want to be her neighbor. She killed it in 2 sets too. It looked like Iveta Benesova (so many Ovas) didn't even try! She could've pulled up a lawn chair and casually stuck her racket out all night, hoping to hit a ball. The score would've been the same in the end. 

Then the Trevors next to us brought back a giant basket of food. That's what Trevors do, they carry baskets. One of them even caught a signed ball from Maria. She hit it right to the Trevors (naturally)! He'll probably go home and put that in a glass case now. 

After a short break, the men came on deck... Novak vs. Phil. The crowd went wild. It was a bit offensive actually that the stadium was half full for the Ovas and then 23,000 people showed up for the guys. Although they were hitting 130 mph balls. They also had personal slaves. Not only ball boys (no girls for them because that would be too distracting) who crouched on the sides of the court ready to spring into action should a ball land. These guys also had towel boys, who were at their beck and call every five seconds. "Oh good sir, please take this towel!!!! Wipe your sweat and then throw it back in my face. Thank you so much!!!!" 

Oh, the best part: there was a fist fight! The players actually stopped playing because the entire stadium was cheering/yelling/wrecking havoc. This is tennis, not an Eagles football game! Unreal! What are these Trevors fighting about? Whose Mercedes is nicer? Whose pants are more khaki? They kicked some guys out, resumed play. 

My favorite part of live tennis is that the announcer tells everyone to be "Quiet please." Then as soon as the point is won, everyone erupts in conversation, only to shut up again in 2 seconds. So the entire time you hear this rise and fall of voices, and during the play, everyone watches intently until the point is lost and goes "OOOOHHHH" and then claps. Only it's 2010 and we're football/WWE loving Americans, so it almost sounds like we're all being sarcastic, like we're just really amused by this tennis thing. The guy behind us kept shouting, "Let's Go Phil!" I was waiting for a security guard to slap his wrists and escort him and his Heineken Light right out. 

Billie Jean King was there. 

I asked Shaun this morning, "What's the deal with Billie Jean King?" 

Shaun: "What do you mean?" 

Me: "I know she's a famous tennis player from years ago, but is it a man or a woman?" 

Shaun: "All I know is she's not my lover!" 

I Googled and she's just a lesbian, gay rights activist in case anyone was wondering. I don't think she got a gender change. 

More drama ensued. The two guys in front of us (one Trevor, one Jersey Shore Trent) had their feet on the empty seats in front of them. People with worse seats would try to sneak down and sit there, since they were clearly empty seats, but Trev and Trent would either refuse to move their feet or tattle tale to a security guard. One drunk Sorostitute gave up and went to get her big macho Trevor friends and there was almost another big fight. But Trent got a big guard to remove them. So I said, "You know Trent, what if I just put my feet right on you!" 

On the way out, we saw the kicked out crew, and my work friend very kindly offered them our seats since we were leaving. We would've loved to stick around to see that... the angry crew sitting directly behind the d-bags. I expect one or more of them received some swift kicks to the head. 

Not over yet... we had to walk to Lot X to find our driver. It took about 40 minutes to get there, but luckily his name was Lucky and after stalker calling us 10 times we found him near the World Fair Globe. 

The US Open was an experience. Pretty much the best sporting event I've ever attended besides the Phillies in the World Series last year and PSU vs. Ohio State in 2005. Can't wait to go back next weekend! 

Good in Chair

I didn't realize how uncomfortable I really was at work, in my cube, until I scavenged a chair from someone who left the agency. Hopefully now my hip won't bother me when I walk (as if I'm 85), and my elbow won't be enlarged from the angle in which I lean it against the edge of my desk (turns out you CAN get tennis elbow from sitting idly in a 3-walled cell 45  hours a week.)  

Maybe this chair has weird scratch marks on the arms and crumbs in the seat, but it's better than the slow death I was dying in that other poor excuse for a chair with foam coming out of the seams, and absolutely no support in the glute or back regions. If anyone even thinks about stealing this chair, I will personally find him (definitely a him, since this place is 90% male), blame him, and make him pay. I may also invest in a chain to make sure this never leaves my 4x4 space. Can I expense that?

To emphasize the importance of this moment, imagine that feeling when you've been walking all day long, stressing, running even, and you can't remember the last time you felt this tired. Then you lay down finally to go to bed.... THAT feeling. Like OMG, I may never get up, it's so good, it hurts. That's how my back feels right now. As if I was trapped in a tiny cage with a broken back for the last 23 months and someone finally adjusted my spine with a good crack.

Now all I need is a career doing yoga, art, and meditation on the beach and I'll be fit as a fiddle, right as rain. Meanwhile I am grateful for this chair and the fact that tomorrow is Friday. Apologies for not blogging in months and then writing about a chair... new blog launching soon about LA, NY, being a 20-something, guys, gossip, trends, and other super interesting, funny things! Promise!!