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Ice Cream

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As promised.

Seriously. I never liked ice cream after I was, maybe, 6. Gram used to take me and I’d get pistachio and we’d race to eat our cones without letting a drip drop. I was a pro. But then it was too sweet. I let it go.

When I got to Austin I want to say every (don’t tell my husband) guy that ever took me on a date would end up at an Amy’s Ice Cream. At least before I could sneak in go to bars. They would be all impressed showing the girl new to town the crazy fanfare of a guy mashing stuff into ice cream as though it’d never been done. I tried to be polite and often would fake surprise, or a “No, this is my first trip for ice cream! Wow!”

That kind of sounded like a dirty euphemism…

Anyway, so way back when Brother came to visit he suggests ice cream. We’re all, why not? We never. I got a REDUCED fat some kind of raspberry-graham-cracker-cheesecake. It was amazingly delicious.

Then Cousin comes to visit. And what do we have? Perhaps five or twelve rounds of cheesecake ice cream, in all different places, with all different fruits. And it’s so good. I could live on it.

Except – needless to say, when company comes my gym time declines. So now that I’ve stepped it up to running and weights daily, which I call my “two-a-days”, my question is this:

Ice Cream, anyone?

With posts like this it’s not had to understand why this blog is hitting all time traffic highs.

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Collegiate Memory Inspired Antics

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I’m not gonna lie or sugar coat this situation. I in a moment of insanity forgot my friend’s birthday. Her 30th birthday. SB, my college roommate, had to go so far as to call me and remind me I missed it and I suck. To be fair, we were planning a Mexican getaway to honor the event, and its cancellation is what prompted my forgetfulness. It’s not like I didn’t have it written down. Also in my defense (ask my mom), not having anything to do all day makes them all blur together and oftentimes I just honestly don’t know what day (week, month) it is.

Anyway, to apologize, I got SB here to SD. Her arrival late Friday was pretty exciting, as I hadn’t seen her since our road trip through Denver to Seattle. We commenced celebratory drinking at the La Jolla Brewhouse, ran kicking and screaming from stupid old Jose’s, and did a little late night drive through La Jolla Cove, calling it an early night so we could make the most of the long weekend. Did we, and how.

Saturday morning we had some technical difficulties with the car, as in we had to have it jumped. We walked the Cove again, stopped in at Karl Strauss (another brewery, already)

Mmmmm

Mmmmm

for a sampler and a Bloody Mary, and then meandered to Porkyland, our tourist coming armed with plans had suggested this place – it was great Mexican food.

Car fixed we drove to Balboa Park and paid 4$pp for the lamest Japanese Garden (it’s really 100ft. long) and wandered a bit taking pictures. When we were read to go, the car was not. Seriously, stupid car…so loving Super Husband let us cab it to Old Town while he waited (and waited) for the solution, which was determined to be a new car battery.

SB suggested the Jolly Boy Saloon in Old Town since she wanted absinthe. (She does not mess around). What I saw and we chose first was a sight which my eyes have never before been blessed with:

Wheel, Fire, Beer-Margarita

Great Inventions: Wheel, Fire, Beer-Margarita

Yes, a beer IN A GIANT MARGARITA. Or, a GIANT MARGARITA with A BEER in it. Whichever you prefer. It was AWESOME. Due to it’s size, we shared it responsibly. Then shared the absinthe. Then we were totally roasted. It was, maybe 2pm. We wolfed down some ice cream (yup, still gorging on that) then husband picked us up. We made it to Del Mar just in time to bet on the last two horse races before – seriously, she planned the whole trip, basically – we set off to the infield to attend the last concert of the summer Del Mar series that SB had discovered: DEVO.

Seriously. DEVO.

Seriously. DEVO.

As you can imagine, it was pretty hilarious. We topped out at about 30 minutes of rediculousness and headed home to clean up to head to the Gaslamp District. We had some dinner, some more drinks, and gussied up. I know it was a holiday weekend, but I’d never seen the bars so busy. There were lines everywhere, except (thankfully) Mr. Tiki’s, our staple starter bar. From there we hit up The Field, staple number 2, and some super cool new bar I forgot the name of.

Sunday morning we headed up to Mt. Soledad, then found the SDSU library and Dr. Suess statue (that was mostly for me). We went to the Gliderport, where it was super windy and there were a ton of paragliders out. We tried to get to Lahaina’s in PB but again, the beach was more crowded than I’ve ever seen it, even more than 4th of July. We changed-of-plans it right to Cass St., who serves up 4$ rice vodka spicy Bloody Mary’s. Are you seeing the theme yet? Back to our pool for some more drinks at sunset, a fashion photo shoot, and then off to the Pink Elephant, a pretty great neighboorhood hipster theme bar.

Pink Elephant Bar

Pink Elephant Bar

We got convinced by running club to meet up at Bourbon, where there was, no lie, a foam party. I tried my best to stay away from the madness, but we did have some fun dancing.We got home and totally ran through the parking garage, pool room, and etc. making messes like we were 19 again. Good times.

The next morning, hangover free, miraculously, we hit the Cove for snorkeling and the Shores for Body Boarding and Bahia Don Bravo’s for lunch all before getting SB on the plane ride home. We managed to squeeze quite a bit in.

Here’s the rest of the silly photos.

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I Know The Band – pH10

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SyBO T. just visited me. Now she’s famous. Click the pic for the link to the full post, there’s more: A heartwarming love story of two souls fused over sick beats.

see full post at gitpop.com

see full post at gitpop.com

Here’s another link to a review full of praise.

And another, I promise I didn’t write the comment but I love it.

Unknown's avatar

Don’t Wanna Grow Up

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All this politics and Olympics watching got me for a second. It made me wonder, am I a grown up?

There are certain facts beyond my ability to vote that I consider are features of being a grown up. I am married. I’m finished college.  I’m a legal driver and drinker. I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut better. I feel compassion. I put others first.

Then I get stuck. There are far more things that don’t get me in that category, in my opinion. I don’t own a home, have a mortgage. I don’t have any kids. I mean, I don’t even have a job. I play around all day. I wear neon colors. We play video games a lot. We take naps. We go out for ice cream when we’re good. If I don’t get my way I whine.

We’ve all got our little things. And for the most part I’m trying to make you laugh. But seriously; my parents had three kids by the time they were our age. We don’t even think we’re ready for a cat. Are we running late? What makes you a grown up? Do you just decide?

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Lamest Of The Lame

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That was a Garbage song reference. Things that I have to do aren’t things I want to do.

fives.jpg#59

Five Things I Promise Not To Do With My Bluetooth:

1. Wear it outside the car
2. Use it outside the car
3. Let you see it unless I’m driving
4. Get pulled over in CA (one positive)
 5. Use in states I don’t need it

Seriously, the rule is dumb for people that don’t WANT these things. Driving with the corded one was too hard so we broke down and got one headset, to share. I drove better just using the phone normal style. It’s totally freaking lame and to top it all off we look like THAT GUY now, not by choice.

DONT DO IT

DON'T DO IT

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Where The Turf Meets The Surf

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Is the dumbest slogan of all time. That being said, MK and I were pretty excited to attend the Pacific Classic million dollar purse day at the Del Mar Race Track. We got ‘gussied up’ a bit and then went cheapo and got great parking and general admission tickets in spite of all the weird old lady protesters (yes, you were weird and old). And that was all we could accomplish.

Horse racing is apparently something you need to know about before just showing up. There were families of screaming babies, completely drunk (before noon) possibly homeless scary smelly people, and the richest old men I’ve ever seen, all jumbled up together placing bets. There were way fewer hats than I expected, apparently opening day is the big deal hat parade, grr. I was overwhelmed at the size of the place even though we’d been there before for the fair. There was the Turf Club, the jockey place, restaurants, betting stations, computers, tvs, and free shirts everywhere.

You got a little brochure thing that only had the names of the horses and when the races were. The tips for betting by the windows said “1. State track 2. State race 3. Pick your horses 4. Pay”. Huh? I knew from all the talk recently there were 30,000 ways to do things. The first few races we decided to share what our picks WOULD BE and see how we’d do. We didn’t get a single horse. So we watched. It was like going to Vegas and not gambling, it felt a little odd but was probably for the best. We are not good at that sort of thing.

Now we’re just working on our online crash courses (kidding). But the afternoon was a blast, even though we didn’t make it all day. We were toast halfway through. There’s a concert while SB’s here (that starts tomorrow!) so we might go back soon.

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Shot The Car Resale Value

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The day I got back from our big vacation trip I got some very important news. AS-H, the woman that introduced me to the love of my life, got me through college, and just generally rules was in town. Well, was in LA. I drove myself back up to Newport Beach and we ate some kick butt and actually healthy Mexican at Avila’s El Ranchito. The healthy was negated by the margarita but whatever! We drove over to Huntington for a little beach and shopping stroll and one more drink before she had to jet set back home. Being a giant super powered attorney rules.

Shortly thereafter(two days), MK got a call that one of his friends from high school was staying at her parents condo in Long Beach for the weekend. We’ve both known her forever too and couldn’t say no. We drove BACK up the good old I-5 again and partied at a couple really random places. Who would have thought we could end up at a karaoke bar, in LONG BEACH? It was rather surreal. When I think surreal, I think RB. So I phoned him and he came from LA to hang out with us. Wonder of wonders, there was a ROSCOE’S CHICKEN AND WAFFLES again, so of course we had to have some 3AM breakfast goodness.

Brief aside: I didn’t go into detail last time, but Roscoe’s might be the best place on earth to eat fried chicken. Seriously. The secret is to mix the tabasco into the syrup and eat the chicken and the waffle and that mix. Holy cow. It sounds odd, but if you’re ever out this way, I’ll show you. Plus, there’s always something crazy going on there. I mean, we did eat in COMPTON and the LBC, so it’s to be expected. It’s living on the edge I tell you.

So, to total that all up, we went up to LA and back to San Diego in three whole separate trips in less than a week. It was a lot of driving. But it was totally worth it. I’m giving thought to living in the OC though, it might make it easier!