So I spent the weekend in Palm Springs with my friends Summer and Fernando (Note: this is what happens when your friends get to pick their own alias.) The thing that is funny about Palm Springs is that it is a weird amalgamation of gap toothed desert rats, prissy moneyed gays, and silver backs in velour jog suits, that the possibilities for bizarre cross-over are endless. The trip was A Total Blast as usual but our time in PS brought up several "food for thought" items and I would like to share them with you.
1) How did the term "toss your salad" become a sexual euphemism for uh, you know? (if you don't know, advance to #2)
2) Why doesn't someone make women's high heeled shoes where the heel is an ergonomic grip? This is Fernando's contribution, as he was holding the Prada stilettos on either side of his head (think about it for a moment, you get the picture).
3) Why are there so many rich queens in Palm Springs?
4) The question, "How big is too big?" when applied to a Crazy Coyote Chicken burrito?
5) Is the grande margarita at Las Casuelas really as big as my head or does it just look that way?
6) Is it possible to actually cook yourself in a hot tub?
7) If drinking alcohol in a hot tub makes you more drunk, why doesn't drinking Rockstar in the hot tub make you more awake?
8) Why isn't the word flaccid used more often in regular conversation?
9) Why does Melvyn's seem to be staffed entirely by men from the witness relocation program?
And last but not least....
10) Why aren't there more restaurants like Melvyn's in Los Angeles?
Monday, January 30, 2006
Thursday, January 26, 2006
I am your new best friend!
So, I went out the other night with my friend Ryan. Ryan is gay and a blast. We always manage squeeze a good time out of any situation. The extra plus is that Ryan doesn't drink, so he is available help me keep my shit together should things go horribly awry and drive me home.
Ryan has a couple of friends that were participating in this Slideshow thing. People bring in their own tray of personal slides and reveal funny stuff about themselves (sometimes very intense stuff). So our plan was to grab dinner and then attend said Slideshow. I am headed over to Ryans to pick him up (he drives the funniest Saturn, it is an obsessive compulsive spaceship) because his car is always ailing in some way. I get a call. Ryan is in Northridge at 5:30 on a Friday. WHAT? Dinner is out. I tell him to pick me up at my little corner cafe when he makes it back over the hill. Crazy boy. He actually thought that he would get back over the hill in 30 minutes.
I turn around and head home. Park my car (not an easy feat in my neighborhood) and walk over to the cafe. Now, let me preface this with the fact that I love this place but they must think I am insane. Because it is around the corner from my house, I treat it like its my kitchen. I have walked over there in my jammies or in various states of undress. Typically I cruise over there wearing a big hat and toting a book. I eat alone and read my book, looking probably very suspicious. They are used to me now and when it is slow the staff sit with me to chat and drink. The great thing about the walking distance thing is that I can stumble home without worry of vehicular nonsense. So on this night Kate was working and she always flows with the wine. I have a lovely dinner and a lot of wine. Ryan calls intermittently with traffic reports. After starting the 3rd glass of wine, I decide I can sit and wait all night. This is where the train starts to come off the tracks. Ryan is going to pick me up. I will not be driving!!! I then decide that I have had a really hard week and I need to treat myself to a proper drunk. I was already well on my way!
Finally Ryan arrives and off we go. The extra bonus aspect of the Slideshow thing is that the $10 ticket includes (YES includes) free booze!!!! I am not driving!!! Genius!!! We get to the gallery, I buffalo my way through the crowd to the folding table in the back with the wine bottles. People are looking at the bottles and discussing what to have. I glare at them, grab the closest one and pour.....pour....pour to the rim. Nice! We find our seats and begin critiquing the rest of the audience, sotto voce. The Slideshow is funny. Really funny at times. These people have balls to get up and show pictures of themselves at age 11. No one looked good at 11. There are about 6 people presenting. After the 3rd finishes, I crane my neck to see what the situation is with the wine. I see bottles on the table and they appear to still have liquid in them. I tell Ryan that I am going to get more wine. He looks at me, slightly askance and says "Right now?" We are sitting in the middle of the totally packed audience in the dark. "You go get me some then." He looks at me like I am crazy and turns away. Ah, the plight of the non drinker. They don't now how much effort it takes to maintain a steady drunk. I drained the last of my Cab and hunkered down. The show ends and there is alot of milling around, double cheek kissing etc. Ryan looks at me and says "The Bar?". Is that a question??? Duh!!!! There are more insincere compliments and I am looking at the wine table again. Finally, after telling everyone where we are going so they can meet us, we leave.
The funny thing about going to the Bar with Ryan is that he doesn't drink. Yet, we go fairly frequently and he likes it. Cute boys, cool space etc etc. I don't question it, I just enjoy. We get there and it is packed. People exploding out the door. Uh Oh! I do not do the"stand around and hold my drink thing". Especially one bottle of pinot noir into an evening. We wedge through to the bar and begin the process of the ocular yoo-hoo to get drinks (bourbon for me, coke for Ryan). I have high praise for the staff at the Bar. They are always nice and accommodating. Drew, our favorite, sees us and says "You guys want to share a table with some people?" Sure, we don't care. Ryan and I can talk to just about anyone. We are ushered over to a table where an attractive couple is sitting. We confirm that they are accepting strangers and then basically take over. There is lots of "who are you? what do you do?" blah blah blah. Bourbon. The thing that was funny is what they were drinking. Drew came over and the guy, Laurence, orders a "surfer on acid". Are you kidding me? Are we at Live Bait in Long Beach circa 1994? Somehow, the girl, Christina, and I keep a straight face. Ryan, the non drinker, does not know that this is highly unusual and downright weird. Christina then orders a single malt Scotch. Yeah for serious drinks. I keep the bourbon flowing. The night continues on and at some point all of the people from the Slideshow show up. I am sure that Ryan and I seemed very "People about town" for 10 minutes. More drinks. This is when we learn that Laurence and Christina are on their first date and Drew plopped us down about 5 minutes into "getting to know you". Holy Shit, are you kidding? Bring another round!!! I feel compelled at this point to tell everyone around me that I am not driving. They all look very relieved. The fog rolls in at this point. I recall drink spillage. There was some cheesecake, I think. Stumbling through the kitchen to the bathroom and almost getting locked in the walk-in freezer. Hmmmm. At some point Ryan manages to pull me together and begin the extraction process. There is stumbling to the car, dropping things etc. At some point I force Ryan to take pictures of me. He is such a good sport. I am carefully and soberly transported back to my home. I wake up 3 hours later, in bed with the lights on, fully clothed. Hmmmm. I remedy the situation and pass out...again.
The next morning I wake up bright eyed and bushy tailed at 9am. Its weird I know. I meet friends for lunch. Margaritas ahhhhhh. I am headed home when my phone rings. I don't know the number so I don't answer. I get home and check the messages. "Hey H, its Christina from last night at the Bar. Your new best friend!!!! I don't know if it will work out with Laurence but know that you and I will be great friends..........!!!!! Dum Da Dum Dum." I immediately call Ryan. Did I do anything weird last night? Well, your shirt was hanging open for a good portion of the evening and your were slurring to beat the band. I have never seen you so drunk. Keep in mind, I have known Ryan for 10 years. That's pretty drunk. I tell him about the call and he thinks its interesting. He says that I should call her back. But something in the back of my mind says no. I think there might have been something that happened in the bathroom........
Damn the Bourbon!
Ryan has a couple of friends that were participating in this Slideshow thing. People bring in their own tray of personal slides and reveal funny stuff about themselves (sometimes very intense stuff). So our plan was to grab dinner and then attend said Slideshow. I am headed over to Ryans to pick him up (he drives the funniest Saturn, it is an obsessive compulsive spaceship) because his car is always ailing in some way. I get a call. Ryan is in Northridge at 5:30 on a Friday. WHAT? Dinner is out. I tell him to pick me up at my little corner cafe when he makes it back over the hill. Crazy boy. He actually thought that he would get back over the hill in 30 minutes.
I turn around and head home. Park my car (not an easy feat in my neighborhood) and walk over to the cafe. Now, let me preface this with the fact that I love this place but they must think I am insane. Because it is around the corner from my house, I treat it like its my kitchen. I have walked over there in my jammies or in various states of undress. Typically I cruise over there wearing a big hat and toting a book. I eat alone and read my book, looking probably very suspicious. They are used to me now and when it is slow the staff sit with me to chat and drink. The great thing about the walking distance thing is that I can stumble home without worry of vehicular nonsense. So on this night Kate was working and she always flows with the wine. I have a lovely dinner and a lot of wine. Ryan calls intermittently with traffic reports. After starting the 3rd glass of wine, I decide I can sit and wait all night. This is where the train starts to come off the tracks. Ryan is going to pick me up. I will not be driving!!! I then decide that I have had a really hard week and I need to treat myself to a proper drunk. I was already well on my way!
Finally Ryan arrives and off we go. The extra bonus aspect of the Slideshow thing is that the $10 ticket includes (YES includes) free booze!!!! I am not driving!!! Genius!!! We get to the gallery, I buffalo my way through the crowd to the folding table in the back with the wine bottles. People are looking at the bottles and discussing what to have. I glare at them, grab the closest one and pour.....pour....pour to the rim. Nice! We find our seats and begin critiquing the rest of the audience, sotto voce. The Slideshow is funny. Really funny at times. These people have balls to get up and show pictures of themselves at age 11. No one looked good at 11. There are about 6 people presenting. After the 3rd finishes, I crane my neck to see what the situation is with the wine. I see bottles on the table and they appear to still have liquid in them. I tell Ryan that I am going to get more wine. He looks at me, slightly askance and says "Right now?" We are sitting in the middle of the totally packed audience in the dark. "You go get me some then." He looks at me like I am crazy and turns away. Ah, the plight of the non drinker. They don't now how much effort it takes to maintain a steady drunk. I drained the last of my Cab and hunkered down. The show ends and there is alot of milling around, double cheek kissing etc. Ryan looks at me and says "The Bar?". Is that a question??? Duh!!!! There are more insincere compliments and I am looking at the wine table again. Finally, after telling everyone where we are going so they can meet us, we leave.
The funny thing about going to the Bar with Ryan is that he doesn't drink. Yet, we go fairly frequently and he likes it. Cute boys, cool space etc etc. I don't question it, I just enjoy. We get there and it is packed. People exploding out the door. Uh Oh! I do not do the"stand around and hold my drink thing". Especially one bottle of pinot noir into an evening. We wedge through to the bar and begin the process of the ocular yoo-hoo to get drinks (bourbon for me, coke for Ryan). I have high praise for the staff at the Bar. They are always nice and accommodating. Drew, our favorite, sees us and says "You guys want to share a table with some people?" Sure, we don't care. Ryan and I can talk to just about anyone. We are ushered over to a table where an attractive couple is sitting. We confirm that they are accepting strangers and then basically take over. There is lots of "who are you? what do you do?" blah blah blah. Bourbon. The thing that was funny is what they were drinking. Drew came over and the guy, Laurence, orders a "surfer on acid". Are you kidding me? Are we at Live Bait in Long Beach circa 1994? Somehow, the girl, Christina, and I keep a straight face. Ryan, the non drinker, does not know that this is highly unusual and downright weird. Christina then orders a single malt Scotch. Yeah for serious drinks. I keep the bourbon flowing. The night continues on and at some point all of the people from the Slideshow show up. I am sure that Ryan and I seemed very "People about town" for 10 minutes. More drinks. This is when we learn that Laurence and Christina are on their first date and Drew plopped us down about 5 minutes into "getting to know you". Holy Shit, are you kidding? Bring another round!!! I feel compelled at this point to tell everyone around me that I am not driving. They all look very relieved. The fog rolls in at this point. I recall drink spillage. There was some cheesecake, I think. Stumbling through the kitchen to the bathroom and almost getting locked in the walk-in freezer. Hmmmm. At some point Ryan manages to pull me together and begin the extraction process. There is stumbling to the car, dropping things etc. At some point I force Ryan to take pictures of me. He is such a good sport. I am carefully and soberly transported back to my home. I wake up 3 hours later, in bed with the lights on, fully clothed. Hmmmm. I remedy the situation and pass out...again.
The next morning I wake up bright eyed and bushy tailed at 9am. Its weird I know. I meet friends for lunch. Margaritas ahhhhhh. I am headed home when my phone rings. I don't know the number so I don't answer. I get home and check the messages. "Hey H, its Christina from last night at the Bar. Your new best friend!!!! I don't know if it will work out with Laurence but know that you and I will be great friends..........!!!!! Dum Da Dum Dum." I immediately call Ryan. Did I do anything weird last night? Well, your shirt was hanging open for a good portion of the evening and your were slurring to beat the band. I have never seen you so drunk. Keep in mind, I have known Ryan for 10 years. That's pretty drunk. I tell him about the call and he thinks its interesting. He says that I should call her back. But something in the back of my mind says no. I think there might have been something that happened in the bathroom........
Damn the Bourbon!
Monday, January 23, 2006
Reasons to Love the Rolled Taco aka the Taquito
My favorite food on the planet are taquitos. The lovely taquito has many things going for it and I thought I would take a moment and share them with you. Now wipe that incredulous look off your face. I am not the only one with a love of the rolled taco. Take note:
http://www.taquitos.net/snacks.php?page_code=54
Lets start with the obvious.
The taquito has no lettuce or tomato attached to it. Early on in my taquito eating days I was not a big fan of the lettuce and tomato. This made the taco consumption a little dodgey. The waiter would roll his eyes each time I ordered a taco with meat and cheese only. Don't judge me man!!!! I want the food the way I want it and that's final! The superb taquito, meat only, people. No extraneous vegetables to deal with or chuck out the window while driving on the freeway. Motorists on the 10 FWY are very pleased with this.
Next, the taquito holds its shit together. I have a dear friend who loves the taco. Each time we dine out for Mexican (often, I might add) she orders the taco and I demand my taquito. Each time her taco falls apart at a crucial point in the taco consumption. On the other hand, my taquito holds steady and is in for the long haul. She mutters "Fuck" and attempts to shovel the last of the taco in. While I gaze at her with a sympathetic smile and continue to munch my intact rolled taco. Delish!
The taquito is also a handy tool for dipping or scooping various taquito accessories. Such as sour cream, salsa, guacamole (if you must) or one of my at home favorites, cottage cheese. I know that sounds gross but it is actually quite good.
The multi-faceted taquito is extremely portable. I would put it up there with the corn dog on the portability scale and you don't need to put a giant paper stick down your throat. I have issues with that.
Need an "on the go" snack? Two taquitos at 3:30 on a Saturday afternoon will hold you perfectly until dinner. Stumbling home at 2:30 am after a night of libations? Two taquitos will take the edge off the potential hang over the next day. If this is your plan, I recommend "Benitos! Home of the Rolled Taco". They are open 24 hours. They pile a bunch of greasy cheese on top of your taquitos (always a plus). And if you hit the Benitos on Santa Monica and Highland after 1:00am, you are assured a tranny hooker floor show. Good Times!
One last reason to love the taquito. They can be purchased frozen and eaten at home! In the privacy of your own living room, you can consume as many as you want without anyone judging you. And, you can do it in your underwear while watching Empire Strikes Back for the 63rd time!
So next time you are perusing the menu at your local Mexican joint give the rolled taco a second thought. You will become a convert.....I promise.
Footnote: I eat lettuce and tomato now.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
10 Reasons why I am an idiot (when it comes to my ex-boyfriend)
Let's qualify that statement. Things about my ex-boyfriend that I am an idiot to have put up with.
1) No loud talking in the morning. He is apparently a very fragile individual and cannot tolerate any loud noises in the morning until he has had a least one cup of coffee and two cigarettes. Now, it is okay to listen to George Jones at top volume but no loud talking or banging around.
2) Sex only in the bed. That's right. Sex only in the bed and usually on Saturday. No nookie on the couch. No sex on the kitchen counter. Nope Nope. In the year we were together I think we had "non-bed sex" maybe 3 times.
3) No man should take longer to get ready than his girlfriend. Admittedly, I get ready pretty quick. We can chalk that up to being decisive. He, on the other hand, was a constant parade of this shirt or that sweater. Don't get me started on the tie selection process. Then once the wardrobe has been selected, then there is the hair. My god!!! He actually asked me once "how is the hair?" It took everything I had to not double over laughing.
4) This is sensitive but true. Prior to engaging in sex, in the bed (see above) there was the question "Did you poo?" "Have you taken a shower?". Now, lets preface this with the fact that I am a very well groomed girl. Waxing/dyeing/plucking/exfoliating etc. All of these things are covered. Not to mention it was 6 months before I could poo at his house anyway. I felt like he was always listening at the door. What's with the poo????? Plus that really douses any va va voom that might have been happening.
5) No picnics. I love picnics. I could not get this dude outside to save my life. Even as a small concession to me??? Nope.
6) His sleep habits. He is a tortured guy, this has been established. And I didn't make him that way. But the leg flailing, lip smacking, pillow punching, teeth grinding and shouting his ex-wife's name really got to me after a while. I lost a lot of fucking sleep over those 12 months and now I have wrinkles from it, dammit.
7) He never came to my apartment. I have a lovely little place and it didn't reek of cigarette smoke like his. But no, I was at his place 4 nights a week and at home alone the other 3(thank god for that, it was the only time I slept). Again no compromise.
8) He would stare at girls. Now, I don't have any issue with that (half the time, I was staring first) but when he would then talk about how "fuckable" they were to me!!!!! That is were the train came off the tracks. Geez dude, have a little respect.
9) He didn't go anywhere. Like trips. There was always the big talk about going to Big Sur or San Francisco. But when the actual planning or date setting came around, there was always some sort of strife in his life that prohibited him from leaving his 15 mile radius. That's ridiculous!!!
10) He was a bad kisser. He had sorta to Roto-Rooter approach to kissing and that gets old right quick. I even tried talking him down a bit, but to no avail. I guess its a good thing that he didn't kiss much after all.
1) No loud talking in the morning. He is apparently a very fragile individual and cannot tolerate any loud noises in the morning until he has had a least one cup of coffee and two cigarettes. Now, it is okay to listen to George Jones at top volume but no loud talking or banging around.
2) Sex only in the bed. That's right. Sex only in the bed and usually on Saturday. No nookie on the couch. No sex on the kitchen counter. Nope Nope. In the year we were together I think we had "non-bed sex" maybe 3 times.
3) No man should take longer to get ready than his girlfriend. Admittedly, I get ready pretty quick. We can chalk that up to being decisive. He, on the other hand, was a constant parade of this shirt or that sweater. Don't get me started on the tie selection process. Then once the wardrobe has been selected, then there is the hair. My god!!! He actually asked me once "how is the hair?" It took everything I had to not double over laughing.
4) This is sensitive but true. Prior to engaging in sex, in the bed (see above) there was the question "Did you poo?" "Have you taken a shower?". Now, lets preface this with the fact that I am a very well groomed girl. Waxing/dyeing/plucking/exfoliating etc. All of these things are covered. Not to mention it was 6 months before I could poo at his house anyway. I felt like he was always listening at the door. What's with the poo????? Plus that really douses any va va voom that might have been happening.
5) No picnics. I love picnics. I could not get this dude outside to save my life. Even as a small concession to me??? Nope.
6) His sleep habits. He is a tortured guy, this has been established. And I didn't make him that way. But the leg flailing, lip smacking, pillow punching, teeth grinding and shouting his ex-wife's name really got to me after a while. I lost a lot of fucking sleep over those 12 months and now I have wrinkles from it, dammit.
7) He never came to my apartment. I have a lovely little place and it didn't reek of cigarette smoke like his. But no, I was at his place 4 nights a week and at home alone the other 3(thank god for that, it was the only time I slept). Again no compromise.
8) He would stare at girls. Now, I don't have any issue with that (half the time, I was staring first) but when he would then talk about how "fuckable" they were to me!!!!! That is were the train came off the tracks. Geez dude, have a little respect.
9) He didn't go anywhere. Like trips. There was always the big talk about going to Big Sur or San Francisco. But when the actual planning or date setting came around, there was always some sort of strife in his life that prohibited him from leaving his 15 mile radius. That's ridiculous!!!
10) He was a bad kisser. He had sorta to Roto-Rooter approach to kissing and that gets old right quick. I even tried talking him down a bit, but to no avail. I guess its a good thing that he didn't kiss much after all.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
There should be a Costco for single people!
I am sick of hearing about how couples and families save so much money shopping at Costco, and I cant. I suppose I could save if I wanted to gang up with another single person. But I don't want to. I want to be able to get discounted stuff in quantities that will not take over my one bedroom apartment. I don't want to have to buy something and then have to squirrel away 50 rolls of toilet paper in every nook of my apartment. I think there is merit to this singles only bulk shopping. OR have singles only shopping day at Costco! It could be sort of like the whole speed dating (which I am totally against) thing, kinda. It would work like this: Twice a month, singles nite (note the "casual" night spelling, draws out the singles) shopping. Lower the fluorescent lights, perhaps some aromatherapy and of course cocktails. The cocktails will work two ways. Singles will be more inclined to mingle and eventually get drunk enough to buy more than they normally would. Or buy things they normally wouldn't. HELLO Costco! You wont have to worry when Sally wonders why she bought a Weber grill for her tiny patio-less apartment. She might even remember talking to the cute guy in the grill area. Hmmmm. Also, singles will be able to employ the "what does he/she have in her cart" method of potential date selection. In my world, a guy with a pile of CD's and books, a couple of bottles of wine and various booze, perhaps some food (no clothes! Do not shop for clothes at Costco! Ever!)...this would be a potential guy worth talking to. So there you have it people. Are you listening Costco??? Do you feel me???
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