Category Archives: Friends

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Wedding Bells And Jailbirds

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There were a lot of really hilarious things that happened during the week of my wedding. I was a nut, my MIL was a nut, my BFF had SHEARS in her purse to deal with the nuttiness. My husband helped decorate the reception. My mom had the first drink of booze I’ve ever seen her take – and would kill me if I told you all how THAT ended.

But there’s another story that I forget way too easily until this week, when it was RB’s birthday and we were catching up. I decided to be nice and not make fun of him on his Facebook, but really wanted to tell this story: I think here is safe.

We invited everyone that was visiting from out of town to come to our rehearsal dinner, family or friends, to be able to spend more time with everyone. Pretty much only family and wedding party was there. RB showed up late, had some wine, and toasted us after the family thought the toasts were over. It was, of course, hilarious. He’s our Jack Black – full of funny – good times guy.

After our dinner, we went out to 6th street. RB was catching up with some buddies and we bar hopped and ended up at Casino El Camino, if I remember correctly. So many people were so excited to see him he had shot after shot poured down his throat. MK and I headed home for our big next few days and the friends stayed out. KD offered RB a couch so we figured he was fine.

The next day was all about wedding things and I gave no thought to anything but the tasks at hand. There was so much going on so fast and it was all a blur until about 9pm or so after dinner and some dancing and some drinks, and we were talking to RD – who realized RB was no where to be found. “He’s probably in jail,” we laughed. “He had a lot to drink.”

No one thought he’d miss the wedding, but the night went on and he didn’t show. The day or two after that, we found out he did, indeed, go to jail. And missed his flight home. And couldn’t call any of us, didn’t know our numbers, had to call his Dad, and had to deal with so many reprecussions I almost felt bad for getting married.

You might think jail is a seroiusly unfunny matter, but every time I remember that I forgot that this even happened, I crack up. It’s terrible, I know.

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Starting A Commune

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Here’s the thing: there’s some company I never want to let go home. We got my brother out here, now I just have to recruit everyone else that I know and love, all the rest of my friends and family. If the beach isn’t your thing, I’ll even consider going where you are. No, wait. It rules here.

I think I’ll start a commune. Or cult. Or whatever. Steal your keys when you come to visit and lock you in the pool room. At least some kind of a thing where we all find a way to be together more often. Getting everyone every once in a while isn’t enough.

Especially now that I know I have to say goodbye to a life-changing experience with my SIL, MM and MK’s cousin BQ. And that I’m stuck wishing I was welcoming KD here tomorrow instead of next week, since she could help me process it all. I could just knock on SB’s door with a wedding/housewarming gift in my hands, with my Mom. But no. We have to do our best to be good on the computer and phone.

So maybe, no cult. Just more phone calls. I’ve got to start small.

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Rethinking That One Time

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Stories can either gain or lose something in the retelling. Driving by our old La Jolla place today, we told the story of the dummy apartment lady that gave us a place then gave it away. I can’t find it – but here’s this link – proof that things can be amazing.

Sure, we PLANNED to move to Utah. But we were basically EVICTED. I didn’t give all the details here but the truth of the matter is, we would have been homeless but were TAKEN IN. So I’m thinking about my awesome brother, how he’s moving out to San Diego – I think it’s finally safe to announce that here – and how great it is that when he gets here, he has my house until he has his. And he has us.

Some people have nothing. We had BB and TB to turn to when honestly we had no where else to go. Life can be really amazing, and people can be so giving that it hurts your heart to know how great they are. Sure we knew each other a long time – but opening your house speaks volumes. Them letting us stay with them until our lease started, it wasn’t a little thing, it was huge. And I hope that everyone gets to experience that kind of generosity.

Telling MB that story, seeing him crack up, rethinking the whole “what are we going to do” moment, those memories stick!

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Legoland

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Legoland is the perfect fun zone for children ages 6 to 13. Or ages 30 to 35.

DW is my buddy for all things I’ve always wanted to do but never got the chance. This is a great post about one of our adventures together. So with him here I had a buddy (couldn’t believe CH turned me down) to drive up to Carlsbad and pay too much money (I will swear forever I was not the one in charge of the coupon) to see Legos. Legos everywhere. Rides were for small children, even though we made our way on to a few. MK let us go be happy and excited, and took our picture so often the camera battery died.

We watched screaming crazy kids run through water, look at Lego Miniland, and eat junk food. And I might just be speaking for myself (but I doubt it) when I say: these things are much funner without the kids. The kids are what most adults are even there for, but we were there for us.

We (I) keep telling the joke, we’re going to have kids that want to go, and we’ll just say, “Nah. Mom and Dad went, here are thie pics. Look how much fun we had! You wouldn’t have that much fun. The lines were long. This is close enough”.

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Speaking Of Running

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Here’s someone doing far better!

One of my high school friends has started a blog detailing her mission to make her doctor say something nice, to stop doing that thing we all do called putting food in us when it’s not always necessary, and to get all healthy and sexy!

Run Fat Girl, Run

Check it out!

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Santa Monica

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The full story:

I drove up from San Diego at around noon. There was hardly any traffic until I really hit LA. I pulled up to The Viceroy Santa Monica:

Not too shabby...

Not too shabby...

SB showed up after my not cheap glass of wine and chat with my mommy in the lobby:

also not shabby.

also not shabby.

We dolled up and headed to The Lobster on the Pier.

feed me seafood

feed me seafood

We drank and ate 100$ worth of oysters, mussels, champagne, and wine – which was then graciously donated to us by the gentlemen that had originally given up their seats for us. 
We then made our way to the bar at The Huntley and continued to drink wine and champagne for which we did not pay until around 11, when we retired like good little girls after a leisurely stroll home.
Cost of trip: one tank of gas, three bags of M&Ms (for SB) and a Sprite for the ride home. Ta-Da!

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This Is The Life

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The way I look at it now – I couldn’t NOT be depressed after my grandmother passed away. I’d been living such a blessed life, it made me feel like nothing could go wrong. So I had to deal with the loss, the reality, and being humbled.

Meeting new people in so many different places has exposed me to so much and taught me so many things. One dear friend battled depression and it was the first encounter with someone close to me. I kept thinking (and saying) “But her life is so awesome and great and fun, HOW could she be unhappy?” Talking to her about it made me realize that whole idea is part of the problem- knowing you shouldn’t be sad MAKES you feel guilty, and sadder. 

So I can better cope with my own little bits. I have days where thinking that we don’t own a home, that I probably couldn’t get a job if I worked for free, that I say all the wrong things at all the wrong times- all it takes is an overcooked dinner on top of all that and I lose it. I used to just shut down, but now I concentrate, count my blessings, and move on. I’m back on top of the grouchy bits and conquering them gives me the strength to make good times even better. (I totally wanted to put ‘gooder’ there…).

Point being – I have the awesomest life on the planet. I have a great family, great friends, and O!M!G! I live on a beautiful beach. I had to refrain from updating my Twitter/Facebook all weekend and week while our company was here – I was afraid to brag. Seriously, even if it was just a night out for tacos, everything was the best time ever!

BB and MB are two of the most amazing people that I’ve ever met – they make me better just for being with them. Meeting BIL’s new girl reminded me I’m still growing and never will be perfect, but holy cow is it fun to dish about family. We all ended up new shades of hot pink and lobster – well of course I’m nice and bronzed, I just have that skin – thanks Dadd! We got to watch the Sea World fireworks almost every night. We really did take some great pictures and I hope I find the time this weekend to share them with you. Just don’t call it bragging. 😉

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Three Years

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As of tomorrow, we’ve been doing this marriage thing for three years. Tell me what I should have learned by now. The way I see it, two people that do the things we do (you’re kidding! I talk too much??? Wait, he’s quiet!??!) aren’t going to start trying a whole new life after the vows. But what I do totally know is that this thing does not survive, as I once thought. It evolves. And the struggle – and the FUN – is getting it to evolve together.

MK still doesn’t know the kitchen system. I still yell when he wants me to do anything not on my agenda. Whatever. My Momma and Dadd send me a card. So does Auntie. But to whom else does it really matter? We’re not the kind of couple that goes for a dinner. We don’t exchange gifts. We have had company the last two years, and maybe that will be our tradition.

I’m dumping MK tomorrow to head up to LA. My sweet love is there and I will go see her and impart all the wisdom of three years of marriage three months before she says her “I do”s. I will tell her it’s fun and hard. Stuff she and RB totally already know. I will talk about the trials and the realization that what one person thinks can matter so much. I am so fiercely in love it hasn’t been three years, it’s been a lifetime. And even if I don’t tell him until Friday (someday he’ll read this blog right?) he is the light of my life, the man of my dreams, the thread holding precarious me together.

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Status Update

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The electronic lady voice from Dell called me two days ago now to let me know that she had my laptop. I sure hope she can fix it.

They didn’t say how long it would take. Or if they’d give it back. Just that they got it, thanks for sending your broken stuff to us! I’m picturing monkeys with hammers…in the meantime I’m running around causing drama and then forgetting what it is even though I want to share more than ever before. For example,

I spent Mother’s Day with the only Mom I knew. A friend of a friend. Seemed nice. After 4+ hours of sitting around with her crazy kids (I’ll allege I mean ‘cool crazy’ if I get sued for slander) I get told that I’m a bad person for ‘rushing home’ to pick up MK. And a psycho. (That sounds like I’m picking up MK and a psycho – that made me Laugh Out Loud. She called me a psycho. You got it, I just wanted to clarify for my own sake.) And a spoiled brat. Dude, I brought her FLOWERS. So – turns out she wasn’t the only MOM I knew, she was the only insane bipolar freak I never knew I knew. Huh.

Needless to say I’m not doing that again anytime soon – although crazy seems to be in the air over here on the bay, I wonder what they illegally dump in this water?

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So Sous Me

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We have some friends here that don’t cook. At all. So of course when I invited one of them over to see the new place I opted to grace them with a home-cooked meal. There are a few things that I cook very well. They are usually dishes that are hard to mess up, staples that I put my own personal touch on by making slight changes. But who feels like boring same old same old, right?

I learned to cook sort of through the restaurants. I liked the guys that created the evening special out of whatever there was too much of, but made it delicious. What I never was good at was following a recipe. But I tried the other night, and made a Balsamic Vinegar Chicken recipe I found online. I followed it very closely.

I stir fried veggies according to their stir fry directions. The chicken marinated well and was super moist, but the recipe was put online by a lady who admitted she was sick of eating “chicken that didn’t taste like anything”. Well, lady, your chicken didn’t taste like much either. We decided a sauce of some sort would have helped. My stir fry veggies got wimpy instead of crispy. I don’t know what I did wrong. Of course I didn’t take a picture, there wasn’t much to see. Here’s hoping my friends aren’t all “No thanks!” the next time I invite them over!

In case the title confused you...

In case the title confused you...

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