The One Monster Meal Food Diary.

It was Chinese food from Whole Foods, the only time I'll actually feel good about eating it. So of course I ate the whole thing for $8!

Fri 4.30.10

1/2 peanut butter w/honey sandwich

Sprite

2 little TJ brownies

1 container of Chinese shrimp with steamed rice and lo mein noodles

4? Whole Foods mini cookies

1/2 bottle Pom peach white tea

water

A Great Hug Can Cure Everything.

So guess what? Yesterday I spent 6 hours editing my midterm "Juno" cut. 6 hours! I'm quite proud considering the amount of concentration that took and never would've made it so good in a roaring class screaming things at each other (especially Richard squealing, "You know what, Nick? I don't give a shit."). I'll see if I can try to post it on the blog so you guys can watch it. I wasn't actually on set for it (I was working on our Green Mile one at the time), so I did the picture edit and sound mixing. That's right. Every footstep, every rustle, every gust of wind was created by yours truly. Since the footsteps (there are about 700 to choose from) come in a long sequence, I had to go in and separate each individual one and place them at the drop of a foot. I'd seen too many midterms get laughed at because the footsteps were clearly off yet so loud. I refuse to have funny footsteps when they should barely be noticed!

Moving on, I ate that sandwich at 8 am and was starving again by 2. Off to the vending machines, as much as it pained me. Of course, I put in money for a small bag of mini Chips Ahoy! because those things are so darn good. Lo and behold, it fell and landed just above the drop box. Shit! I reached in and tried to pull it down but it didn't work. I gave up, still battling a ravenous tummy that seemed almost suicidal if I didn't feed it soon. I was also extremely thirsty, so I grabbed a Dasani and Sprite instead. The sugar and fizz was enough to take my mind off eating.

I finally left at 5:45 (after having been there since 12) and headed straight to Baja Fresh for my shrimp burrito that I so craved. This resulted in me realizing I forget my laptop on the chair once I reached the parking lot (Baja is located under my apartment building, thankfully) and hurried back as fast as my feet would take me. Phew! it was still there. Burritos are distracting.

Once home, Roomie2 had her parents and baby sister in town (such nice, moral people) so they left to go explore Hollywood while I sat at the counter eating my fat, hot package of Mexican love (why, what do you call it?). Fast forward 15 minutes later and I was slowly loosing consciousness to a bout of nausea. Lord, I haven't felt that nauseas since, well, the last time I regurgitated into the toilet. So I walked into Roomie's bathroom and leaned on the counter with my mouth covered till it passed. I'm guessing this is because I scarfed the thing down on a very empty stomach, yes?

At some point, SF texted me to say he was at the elevators and just as I stepped out into the hall to retrieve him, I came face to face with him. "Slow poke," he smiled. First we watched Ugly Americans on my big Mac in my room with the pan of sticky, chewy, crusty brownies that had great taste (I don't know what Roomie2 was talking about when she said they were "weird"). Then I dragged him (literally, on the floor) out of the chair to Roomie2's room where he turned on the PS2 so I could play colossus. Whoo more colossi! Fist pump! He watched Adult Swim on my laptop with headphones while I battled a ginormous catfish/hairy snake in a pond, and then spent another 15 minutes trying to find the location of the next colossi, which was a horrible lizard thing that shot fire at me with its mouth and whacked me like a bitch with its tail. Quit!

Once Roomie2 and her gang returned, SF asked if I wanted to go with him to get the best pizza on the planet since he hadn't eaten dinner. Um, duh.

We got in my car and started driving. After a long parking ordeal, we finally found a spot on the far side of the Gelson's parking lot (where the parking inspector man couldn't see us) and walked across the street to a series of restaurants and books stores and theatre clubs, all in a line, crammed onto one block. We walked into Prizzi's, which was very quaint and authentic looking, like, you know, these Italians don't fuck around, and this made me excited. I didn't order anything after that damn burrito, so I stuck with water and had a sip of SF's light Italian beer called Peroni. Like a strong champagne. He ordered the pesto pizza with chicken, provolone, and artichoke hearts (my fav) and, when it came not 10 minutes later, the waiter cut us each a piece from the plate, and SF leaned forward to watch me eat my first bite of chicken in a over a year (did I mention I was vegan before a few weeks ago? No? Okay, well, I was.). It was good. My brain was still a little anti-poultry so I couldn't fully enjoy it, but it was quite a mouthful. The provolone was thick and stringy and white and the pesto tasted just like it should and the artichoke was chunky and hiding under the cheese. I ate my piece with a fork and knife so I could pick more easily. Oh, and, the check? $28. For one regular pizza. I looked at the prices written on the check and, of course, the basil pesto was $13. Ah, that's what got us. And probably the beer. And the fact that we were breathing in their AC unit.

SF asked if I wanted to sleep at his place since neither of us were up for trudging back to mine, and as long as I was going to do that, I let it be known that I didn't like the way we slept with our separate bodies. "Ah, so you want a cuddle buddy." "Yes." Thank heavens that was so easy.

And, as promised, sleeping was much more enjoyable with his arm draped over me like it used to be.

I actually didn't want to wake up this morning considering I finally fell into a deep sleep. It was lovely. So I laid there as he got dressed and shook me awake. As for the hug, it happened outside, after he told me he would be driving his car to school. I gave him a face and then said, "Oh!" Huh. Just before we parted to go to our cars, we hugged and he picked me up. Yeah, it was a pick up hug, my favorite. And it made my morning seem a lot brighter.

I expected to go to the Grove with Friend today. Hooray for awesome malls!

Staving and Then Not. A Deprived Food Diary.

This is both very good yet so bad. Once again, it was right there in front of me!

4.29.10

1 toasted peanut butter sandwich w/honey (don't judge because I eat these so much, you would too if the peanut butter was so low fat and carbs yet oh so tasty)

2/3 Baja Fresh shrimp burrito w/pinto beans & guacamole (so filling)

water

1/2 bottle of Sprite (I was desperately thirsty yet wanted some taste so I got both Dasani and Sprite and the vending machine, worked out fine)

(4?) little TJ homemade brownies

1/2 piece of Prizzi's pesto pizza w/provolone, chicken, and artichoke hearts (oh. my God)

See what I mean?

Waking Up... Not So Fine.

The way things ended last night, you'd think my morning would be a rather pleasant one with SF here. Not so. Instead, I gained consciousness and realized the futon had no other weight on it but me. I propped up and eyed the room frantically, too lethargic to actually panic, but it was more of a sad feeling when I realized SF was no where to be found. It was 7:30. I've never seen him voluntarily get up, without any help, before 7:30. So I listened. Other Roomie was talking to someone in the kitchen. Ah, I thought, bingo. But no. I didn't know that guy's voice (what was he doing here anyways?). Darn. I sat up and shot SF a text, asking where he went. He said class and that he didn't want to wake me that fucking early. I wasn't mad, I was actually shocked at how calm I was about this. He did something to benefit me. How nice of him!

I tried to go back to sleep but couldn't. For some retarded reason, Roomie's door kept shaking in its frame every time there was a bit of rumble in the building--whether it's someone walking by or another door being opened or closed. It annoyed the hell out of me. So I got up and made a peanut butter (Better N' Peanut Butter, yum) sandwich.

I'm not supposed to go be in school today, but I'm going to have to. I didn't finish work yesterday so, as much as I hate dragging things out, I have to go in around noon and finish. Then at 4:15 is the Writer's Guild.

Yesterday in class (after that too-almondy croissant) I sent our Creative Writing teacher and e-mail about department heads coming to our class to scare the pants off of us about thesis in three months and she told me to come to the guild meeting. Okay, then, I will.

And I beat another Colossus last night!

I Feel Oddly Fine. And I Shouldn't.

So today was crappy, as expected, but then it got better. Then it declined again, then it got better again. And then the same cycle happened again. Till finally, now, it's like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Half of everything, which I'm not really complaining about.

The morning was lonely. No Roomie to catch up with or talk to. I got dressed early and headed to class an hour before it started to catch up on work, where I was already reassured by the teacher that my work would be done on time and just like that half my worries went away.

I was starving by lunch and got my, as you know by the food diary, very healthy drink and very unhealthy snack.

To make a lullish story short, I stayed in class even after everyone left and left a little before 7 so I could at least have an evening to myself. I started texting SF about my keys, which were not in my purse and had learned from Friend that he was the last one to touch them. So, as predicted, I was locked out of my apartment for a good 15 minutes, waiting for Other Roomie to arrive home and get me inside so I could continue playing Shadow of the Colossus. Though, while texting SF, I left everything open-ended so he could feel free to invite himself over or me since Roomie was not home (sad face) so I really had nothing better to do than entertain myself in her room. Once I told him her PS2 wasn't turning on, he told me to hurry over, "Quick like a bunnie!" I smiled. Victory.

I turned up at his place, greeted with a plate of penne pasta with sundried tomato sauce and green beans. This lifted my spirits quite a lot, after not expecting much. I scarfed it up on his couch, considering it was a bit cold, but it tasted good. Then I nibbled on a too-big piece of key lime pie. It was short and fat and pale and loaded with dense whipped cream and a bright green lime twist. Very rich, very yummy, too good to be true. So I did the sensible thing and got it the hell away from me before I went overboard.

Just as we were about to leave because SF said he could turn the PS2 on, I get a text from Friend saying she's read the previous blog I posted (the one about me loosing my smile) and felt like shit because of it. It took a moment for me to fully understand since, once the blogs are posted, they're yesterday's news and that's that, just memories put down to look back on. Once I realized I would have to explain myself, I only felt bad that it got to her so much. Poor Friend. I know the feeling of not being able to let go of a seemingly inaccurate comment about yourself. It's quite awful. Thankfully, we're both big girls who can let it go with an elongated sorry.

SF is currently asleep in bed. I'm typing this on the cream shag rug of Roomie's bedroom with Moulin Rouge playing on the TV. It has the best love songs ever recorded and one of the best I'm-saturated-in-love male characters before Robbie (James McAvoy) in Atonement, and Tom (Joseph Gorden-Lovett) in 500 Days of Summer.

Another Regretful Food Diary. Ah Well.

I had to, it was there in front of me!

Wed 4.28.10

1/2 peanut butter sandwich

1/3 cup carrot-ginger-apple juice (from Zen Zoo)

1 almond croissant (also from Zen Zoo and I was starving)

1 plate penne pasta with tomato sauce and green beens

water

arnold palmer (but mostly arnold palmer)

1/3 slice key lime pie (from Bristol Farms!)

If I could detract something, it would be the croissant.

I Need a Rabbit's Foot Keychain. Something.

You know those days where you wake up and realize you have nothing good to look forward to? Yeah, this is one of those days, and I just feel like staying home so I can miss the whole thing. I'm behind on my edit in class thanks to a ridiculous amount of technical issues on those new Mac computers, which I'm mostly scared about. I just wish Roomie hadn't left for Orlando because she's usually the first face I see in the morning and she always makes me feel better and like everything will be fine. It's like going into a minefield without my lucky charm. So if something good doesn't happen immediately when I get to school, I will not be a happy camper, considering I have 8 freaking hours to spend there. This sucks.

I Lost My Smile Last Night.

Need I remind you, readers, that Friend is not too fond of SF? She's always saying what a bad boyfriend he was and how he wasn't good enough for me and negative comment after negative comment. And I believed she felt this way, as much as I didn't like it. Last night, however, either the bitch is a great actress, or SF finally got under her skin and she realized he's not as harmful as she thought he was. And I wanted to rip her fucking head off for laughing at his jokes so much.

It started at Kabuki. SF didn't order anything, but he kept us girls company while we ate and bantered about nail polish, sunburns, and the hilarity of Roomie's glass slipping through her fingers and landing loudly on the table. I was worried when I first learned that Friend would be joining us, wondering if SF's mere presence would be enough to piss her off. But if she was, she didn't seem to acknowledge it because she was perfectly happy.

I desperately wanted to split up our table so I could have SF to myself by the time the check came. Thankfully, Roomie and Friend walked to Pinkberry and SF and I walked in the opposite direction to Bank of America so I could deposit my wad of cash into the ATM. Deposit complete, we walked back to my apartment and immediately plopped down in Roomie's bedroom to play Shadow of the Colossus on her Play Station 2 (I'd been playing it earlier that day and got hooked).

A few minutes later, before we could even get the game started, Roomie and Friend returned and Friend took the controller to start a new game. Um, oh, okay.... She skipped through the introduction, declaring that it bored her and would figure it all out on her own. Roomie even shot back with, "You just missed your whole mission so good luck with that." The moment my mouth opened to tell Friend what to do since she didn't know, she screamed, "Don't help me! I got it!" and I shut the hell up like an enraged clam, sitting with my arms crossed next to SF and sharing rolled eyes with Roomie.

Once SF began helping her, I bumped his leg with my knee and he said, "Stop telling me to not help her." I sighed. Great. After killing one colossi, she handed the controller to me so I could continue with my game. Thanks, bitch. I got down to business, only I kept screwing up while trying to grab onto a platform and kept receiving snarky comments from Friend and SF. I just wanted to say, "No one talk to me anymore, okay?" SF had his laptop out and was showing Friend cute pictures online, hissing her over to look at them. Jerk. Finally I handed him the controller so he could help me beat the collosi and Friend made a comment about me not beating any myself. "I beat the second one myself," I told her. But the same thing happened with the next colossi. It was a giant bird. After killing it halfway, I had no choice but to give SF the controller again so he could kill it.

Friend wanted a Slurpie. I hate the things. The chemicals burn my tongue. I never had them as a child since my mother considered them to be poison, which is quite correct. This, apparently, was an outrage. Friend and SF immediately drove me to the nearest 7-11 to grab one for each. I didn't buy anything. Gas station food? Are you kidding me? SF noticed how quiet and aloof I was, which had everything to do with the fact Friend hadn't left yet. It must have been 11 by then. SF kept telling me to smile but I didn't know what to do but look away.

When we returned home with their death drinks, Twizzlers, and chips, I popped in Howl's Moving Castle to watch as SF and I fell asleep on Roomie's bed (she left for Orlando before that and said I had her room to myself). It was 1:30 am when the movie ended and Friend gathered her things to leave. SF stood up to retrieve his cell phone and I patted the pillow next to me, the universal sign for "come sleep next to me." He obliged, already being exhausted.

But it wasn't the same. There was no cuddle involved. Just our separate bodies laying on a futon. I had a restless sleep, waking up every few hours, usually to his snores.

When the sun was up, I stole his arm somewhat and clutched it. It was the only thing I was allowed to grab on to. And he finally woke at 9:20, a bit pissed that he'd be late for class, he said he didn't feel good, but got dressed anyway. I walked him to the elevator and gave him a brief hug goodbye before leaving him with the feeling of rain clouds in my chest.

I have a hunch that a simple thing like sleeping over just became oddly complicated.

A Friendly Food Diary.

I say friendly because at first it was Roomie and I sitting down at Kabuki, then 5 minutes later SF showed up, then 10 minutes after that came Friend. Our waitress was probably even expecting a fifth person to appear.

Tue 4.27.10

1/2 bag plantain chips

1/2 glass TJ iced tea-lemonade

2 TJ vegetable egg rolls

1 plate salmon teriyaki w/ miso salad & white rice

1/3 small bowl soy chocolate-cherry ice cream

I was very full by the end of the day. Like a Pooh Bear.

Right Next to George Bush Are the Mormons.

This trailer pretty much speaks for itself. I had no idea old, rich assholes could be so easily in charge just because of a onion-skin Bible.

Early Food Diary

I know for a fact I will not be eating dinner since my stomach ache last night and I'm not the slightest bit hungry.

Mon 4.26.10

1 Chocolate Peppermint Stick Luna bar

1/3 homemade mixed berry smoothie

2/3 Baja Fresh burrito w/shrimp, pinto beans, and avocado

(handful?) Baja Fresh taco salad

1 cup mixed drink of Sprite, Diet Coke, and Mr. Pibb (delicious)

Not too proud of this one either.

Bristol Farms. It Even Sounds Heavenly.

SF, in all his kindness and good intentions, agreed to go with me to Bristol Farms considering I'm a virgin of the place and I think one trip is owed to everyone who lives in a suitable radius of one. Parking was a bitch (as is all parking in LA; I had to park at the drug store across the street), but once we made it inside, it was like, Where do I begin? I wanted to go everywhere at once! All over in one clean swoop instead of meander like I needed directions, which is what wound up happening. It is bigger than it looks on the outside, but not by much. The aisles are a tiny bit crammed, but nothing is out of place. It's all neat and organized. The Eggo waffles with the gluten-free organic ones.... Wait, what? That had to be one of the biggest head-turners. It was like a mix of Trader Joe's and Ralph's. European candy and Snickers? Fruit Loops and Annie's Bunnies? Thankfully they had a huge amount of store-made deli foods and buffets to make up for that fact. A whole roasted turkey just sitting under a hot lamp in its own juices! Clam chowder, potato salad, macaroni and cheese, Italian pasta, vegetable medley, huge artichokes, Lemonnaise (instead of mayonnaise). I would go on but I have to save room for the bakery's desserts. Smack dab in the middle of the store was a very well endowed bakery with entire cakes (not too big), 3-inch tall cupcakes, cookies, brownies, almond butter, gold leaf, dark chocolate banana bread samples (yummerz!), and pies. I got so excited at the sight of a lovely pink raspberry-lemon cupcake with white chocolate shavings that SF got it for me, along with an entire key lime pie. Everything cost $15. Not bad considering it's freshly made.

The only regrettable thing happened when SF and I were at the register and he was dancing elaborately to a song on the speakers. I nonchalantly swung my arm down to smack his leg saying, "Stop dancing," and missed by about half an inch and hit his, um, sensitives. He clammed up, but not enough for me to tell if I'd hurt him. On the way out he most definitely let it known that I had pretty much gotten none of his leg. It's just in my nature to do that when I think someone is embarrassing themselves. So I apologized profusely and thanked him for the cupcake. Suddenly I felt I didn't deserve it, so I let him have the first big bite. That should make up for it, yes?

A Sugary Food Diary. Damn.

Interesting day.

Sun 4.25.10

1 toasted peanut butter w/honey & cinnamon sandwich

2 TJ vegetable egg rolls

1/2 raspberry & lemon cupcake (from Bristol Farms!)

3.5 TJ battered halibut w/tartar sauce

1 Hershey's Kiss

1/2 glass of cranberry-grape juice (amazing)

A handful of TJ blue corn tortilla chips

A handful of plantain chips

1/5 cinnamon lollipop

Added note: I worked out for over an hour afterwards.

Starry-Eyed In A New Way...

I did it last night, finally. After weeks of speculating and fantasizing and crying with built up misery, I broke up with SF. But there's a catch.

I hadn't slept at all the night before and that annoyed me. The next day was shopping day with Roomie and Friend (here comes a day of I'm-right-and-you're-wrong and possibly some told-you's from Friend) at the Grove, the mother of all outdoor shopping centers, also equipped with a Farmer's Market. In the car on the way there, I realized I'd left my wad of money at home in a drawer. Fail. Why did I have to be the one to forget it? Oh, well, I could always come back another day.

Victoria's Secret came first for bathing suits. I stood in a dressing room with Roomie and Friend while they strategically slipped in and out of their bras and bathing suit tops/bottoms so no one would see an unwanted nipple or crotch shot. I thought we were old enough to not care about that sort of thing, but clearly my mother is just too comfortable around me in dressing rooms. Then came Quicksilver, Pacsun (both very briefly for more bathing suits), and Gap Body, my new discovery. I quite liked it's simplicity and uber-soft hipster panties with two buttons sewed on front. Then Forever 21. Lord, it was packed and I'm not one to pay attention to that many people at once to avoid bumping into them. So I browsed for as long as my attention span would allow knowing I couldn't actually buy anything. Bleh. It was getting close to 2 and I was weak and starving. Roomie bought a bag of clothes and Friend and I went to Anthropologie, my guilty pleasure, before heading back to the sushi restaurant, Kabuki, under our apartment building. I got a huge combination plate of teriyaki salmon, a bowl of salad, a bowl of rice, and a plate of tempura. I ate everything but the remainder of the salad and tempura. In the meantime I sent SF a text saying, "Hi," to which he never responded. This made me overly skeptical (bring on the sweat drops!) unfortunately.

Roomie and Friend said they were ready to walk to H&M and Forever 21 on Hollywood Blvd since they were bigger stores. Walking for 20 minutes with a full belly and one very oblivious SF on my mind did not sound appealing at all and I was getting sleepy fast. So I said I'd rather stay and take a nap.

I didn't. I got home and popped in Titanic on my laptop like an idiot, texting SF, "Are you doing anything later?" He replied 45 minutes later with, "I'm editing later. But nothing I can't do tomorrow." "Did you do anything today?" Maybe this would explain his phone silence? "Watched season 3 Supernatural." A TV show. A TV show?! Argh, I wanted to punch his nads! I became heated and confused and feeling like I was still missing a massive part of the picture here. Why the hell did we even bother anymore?

Cue the eye sprinklers. I sat on my bed in my misery bubble, wishing the Titanic DVD hadn't frozen so I could just watch the damn thing and remember what real romance looked like. That was it. I got up and started folding all his leftover clothes into a Trader Joe's bag. There was half the progress, but it only made me cry more because I just realized I'd subconsciously decided to go through with this.

Roomie and Friend returned a few hours later with more clothes. I sat there for as long as I could with a smile, but once I told Friend about what I was going to tell him, I started to cry silently with my face in my arms, getting the sleeve of my pink sweatshirt damp. The two of them spent five minutes trying to make me feel better and told me everything would be fine, but I hated not knowing for sure. Once Roomie left to go exchange a Victoria's Secret bathing suit, I told Friend I just wanted to drive there now and get it over with. The suspense was killing me, eating away at me like that hideous camel spider (bad mental picture!). I wanted to hear his response to what he'd caused.

So I changed into decent clothes and headed out the door with his belongings. And lo and behold, I started to smile for real as I charged down the hall. Where was this incredibly random elation coming from? Just the fact that I felt certain again for once, or that I knew I'd be a free lil' lady once this was over? Both, I'm sure. I texted him saying I'd stop by.

7 minutes later I parked outside his building and tapped on his window with my phone. I hadn't brought his stuff with me, just left it in the car so he wouldn't immediately sense what was happening. Turns out I'm not so subtle. He answered the door shirtless, which was bound to happen one day, but today of all days? I slipped passed him but still saw him try to awkwardly kiss me, which I felt a little bad about. He got me outside his apartment door and I let it happen. One last smooch doesn't hurt. We sat one his couch and I listened to a couple minutes of small talk. I could already tell I was happier around him instead of over thinking everything. And finally I said plain as day, "I have your clothes in my car." "You kicking me out?" he smiled. I didn't know what to say to that, so I said nothing. "You are kicking me out," he snickered, not knowing exactly how seriously I was, in a sense, kicking him out, but I hate that term. It's not like he'll never be allowed in my apartment again. His tape nametag from months ago is still on my bed headboard.

And here came the words that would change everything: "No, I was just thinking that maybe we're better as friends instead of a... couple or whatever?" I wasn't expecting anything more or anything less than his exact reaction. "...Well, this day turned out different than I thought it would." We both giggled a little. And just like that, I felt like I did back in November and December when we were still friends without the added pressure; that ease was back and all expectations were gone except for the simple ones. "Let me get a shirt on," he said, "so I can have this conversation normally." He put on a grey wife beater and sat back down. "Okay, so that awkwardness really was both of us and not just me." "It's not awkward." "At the door... never mind. Um... I did see it coming just a little. It was 50/50." "Those are big numbers," I told him. "You think it should be 60/40?" "Yes," I laughed. We grew quiet again till he said, "This is a crappy day.... Well, I'd like to know what brought this about." "You don't know? Really?" I asked. "Well, I know I haven't really been around. I'd just like to hear it from you...." He was still smiling. It's not really in his nature to frown when he's put in a situation like this. He's going to joke because if he didn't, we'd both be in bad shape. "It was just little things.... Like, um, yesterday was Friday, and I was like, 'Yay, it's Friday. I get to hang out with [SF].'" "Oh," he moaned. "And I got out of class late and then I texted you but and you said you were at the party and it's like I have to text you to know what you're doing and wonder about it and you don't text me ahead of time." "Oh, I'm sorry," he said kindly. "And, I've just been sort of miserable these passed two weeks." "Aw, I'm sorry you were miserable," he told me. I shrugged. "Like, I've been defending you for the passed month to [Friend] and [Roomie], like, saying that you're not doing it on purpose. That you would never be mean on purpose. I guess they just thought you weren't really in the right zone... for this." "...So you were just looking for more of a couple-y relationship?" he asked. "Yes." He said he thinks he's loosing his mind a bit (dead serious) and that wasn't helping. He also asked if I was sure and I said no immediately. There were so many external factors triggering this and not enough internal ones that I wasn't sure how organic this was. If this was "supposed" to happen. So, yes, I wasn't sure. "Okay, do you want to just leave it in limbo and see what happens?" he asked. "Yeah," I smiled. "Okay... yeah, not how I thought today would go." And that was that.

I told him about how I forgot my money when I went shopping today and I'd like to go back to the Grove now that I had it. He agreed to go since we've been wanting to do something fun for a few days. On the way to my car he asked when I first decided to break us off and I said it was just a thought at first and I didn't think I would actually have to do it, especially not that day.

I laughed more than I had in a long time with him on the car ride to the Grove. After two minutes (I guess I was a bit distracted) he told me to pull into CVS so he could drive and I let him. We parked at Whole Foods and walked across the street. First was Victoria's Secret for a $22 neon turquoise sports bra (for my workouts). Then was Gap Body for, well, nothing since it was rather expensive. Then Anthropologie to look at their cardigans. But before I could even walk through the doors, SF restrained me (he knows how ridiculous their prices are) and I restrained back till he picked me up and said, "I thought you didn't want to go?" "I do!" I gasped, and he unleashed me. Forever 21 was most successful. I spent $96 on 6 lovely tops, including a Snoopy one he insisted I get because, "It's Snoopy! He's amazing." Alright, just for him for being such a great, patient sport while I shopped.

I was done after Forever 21 and it was dark and chilly out so we headed back to the car. I said we could go for a milkshake at Millions of Milkshakes (because what else could match such a happy feeling other than a fluffy puppy?) But Friend texted me asking where I was and told me to come back for girl's night. I figured what I was doing was better, but I had agreed to spend the night with Friend and Roomie. I said I'd better just head back and he said okay. We also agreed to go explore Bristol Farms the next day (today) since I'm very curious about it.

When we reached his place and it was time to part, I got out and went around to stand at the driver's side. We hugged and I got in. "I'll call you tomorrow," he told me. "No you won't." "...Okay, I won't?" he asked. "Well, you just always say that and you never do." "But I usually text you." "Yeah, but I take 'call' as [phone]call." "Ah, okay, then I will contact you tomorrow." "Okay," I smiled. "Okay, see ya." He shut the car door and waved.

I love the way he looks at me now, like my well-being is so very important. He just wants me to be all right and not miserable.

Shop Day Food.

Ugh, I have momentarily woken up from a groggy sleep to remember today's food diary. So here it is.

4.24.10

1 Chocolate Peppermint Stick Luna bar

1 Salmon teriyaki with shrimp and vegetable tempura, miso salad, white rice

1 half peanut butter-honey-cinnamon sandwich

A few sips of lemony drinks

1 pint water

Well this is pathetically short.

A Half-Eaten Food Diary

I haven't eaten dinner yet and I have no idea what I will eat or that I will be able to type this once I have eaten considering it's 4 minutes from 8 pm. So here is what I've eaten so far.

Fri 4.23.10

1 Caramel Nut Brownie Luna bar (I wanted chocolate, ok?)

2 TJ vegetable egg rolls

(a couple fork fulls?) of roommate's tomato-vegetable soup with pasta

1 glass mango, raspberry, strawberry w/OJ smoothie

1 bag of plantains

1/2 glass of pink lemonade

Still have no idea what dinner will hold or if I'll even see SF today. Sigh. Another day of uncertainty.

It's That Time of the Blog...

So guess what? About an hour ago I decided to start a food diary (if that's not impulsive, I don't know what is). I figure it would be pretty beneficial to keep in mind that, like, a bigillion people can read what I've eaten, so I better not be writing down 4 Snickers bars and a grande peppermint frappe (insert vomit splash here). I don't think I'll write down the calories but I can guesstimate with packaged foods. I'll start with what I ate yesterday and return this evening with today's report.

Thur 4.22.10

2 pieces of toasted potato bread drizzled with clover honey and dashes of cinnamon

1 glass of homemade raspberry, pineapple, and strawberry w/OJ smoothie

2/3 small bowl of TJ's spicy polenta with spinach, peas, and tomato in a tomato basil sauce

2 Hershey's kisses

1/2 glass of TJ pink lemonade

1.5 1-pint bottles of water (I'm a water whore)

1/2 glass of TJ iced tea and lemonade (I like anything lemony)

1 small bowl of shrimp stir fry

So that's what I ate yesterday considering how oddly sleepy I was feeling for no apparent reason....

Christina Hendricks, Congratulate Your Husband For Me.

If this lady is coming towards you on the sidewalk, even Jesus would do a double take. Yeah.

A Lot Can Happen In A Week.

I'm such a text whore. Damn technology for making life easier yet more complicated at the same time. It's because of text messaging that I spent two days not speaking to SF because he knew I wasn't feeling well yet he never sent a "how are you?" text till after I got better. Bastard. Thus came two nights of hot tubbing with my buds, a trip to Trader Joe's for some luscious clover honey to pour atop potato bread and sprinkle with cinnamon (better than a doughnut, I swear to God), reading Cosmo for tips I was never going to remember, and Target shopping for new bed decor (oh my God, it's Shabby Chic!).

Finally, yesterday morning, he texted me for the third time in 12 hours and I could feel his concern due to my silence. So I sent back, "I'll see you tonight." He agreed. We hadn't seen each other in 3 whole days, which is monumental when neither of us are doing anything special other than school. I got to his place at 8 after spending time at my friend's apartment watching TV with my laptop on my lap, crunching through half a row of Saltines (which are horrible for you, btw) and downing organic root beer (Mmmm). Instead of knocking on SF's window like I usually do so he can come out and open the locked main door for me, I followed two girls into the building and walked straight through his door figuring he hadn't locked it. Later he told me how much it scared him.

I knew immediately that I was stuck in a sort of meek, stagnant, pissy mode that would be tough to get out of without some seriously impressing moves from him. So I waited for said moves, anything. Unfortunately he wasn't in a particularly romantic mood, which is my favorite. Instead he expelled a sort of sleepy dumbness since he was exhausted from building sets at school for 12 hours straight. Understandable. I didn't want to get in the way of his sleep, but at the same time I'd driven there for a reason. Must. Make. Progress. Anything to make me feel happy about being in this relationship again.

But, my dear readers, I'm sad to say that epiphany never happened. We got half way there at some points, but I never felt the urge to stop and realize how great we were for each other. And yes, I am sad about this.... Actually I'm more frustrated than anything. I'm not exactly looking forward to the day I come through and destroy our relationship nest with a chainsaw. I've never broken up with anyone before and I'm determined to make this work just so I won't feel like a failure. But, I must say, if that feeling of content fails to return (at all), something more drastic must be done. I can't stand the emotional distance right now. It's the suckiest feeling ever.

Being Called "Baby" By Strangers Pisses Me Off.

So yesterday morning I woke up at SF's apartment around 11 and had to make a quick run to CVS down the block. I was already aware of the usual throng of Mexicans that usually linger outside the Home Depot right across the street from CVS looking for work (I'm half Spanish so stop clenching your eyebrows, you'll get wrinkles). I was in a jean jacket and creamy orange denim shorts, which were not all that short, but I don't wear them often anyway. I think it was the tacky tangerine flip-flops (not mine) I slipped on since I was not in the mood to sit on the kitchen floor for 10 minutes lacing up my vintage black boots. I neared them with inner caution, just wanting to get passed them as quickly as possible so they could stop staring at me, which they were without shame. Hate that. Strike one came from a younger guy sitting on the curb saying, "Hey lady. Bye," as I sped passed. Ugh. Two seconds later a guy walked passed and said, "Hey, baby." Dude, really? I look fifteen for Christ sake. I should've allowed SF to come with since he offered but I was too quick out the door. Definitely regretted that decision.

After grabbing what I went there for, I walked around the back to avoid passing their wandering eyes again. I would enjoy being a girl more if I could wear my shorts in peace. Am I right? Is common courtesy really that difficult?

A Public Apology to My SF: I Am Still Starry-Eyed for You. Regardless.

Dear SF, you'll have to excuse my recent and unexpected retardation over the passed 2 days, and sporadic days before that, for that matter. You'll have to understand that waking up an exhausted girl at 11:30 PM to go to the midnight screening of Kick Ass had its risks (especially if she's never heard of the thing till the trailer). I don't want to be a zombie around you, so I apologize for the lack of organic romance I've hindered.

I promise you cause a little hot lamp to turn on in me whenever I'm around you, you really do. In fact, I hate it when reality sinks in, what with our separate schedules we try to sync together as comfortably as possible, or even when it's not that comfortable for that matter.

You can be quite nerdy, which is fair since you very gentlemanly warned me time and time again, as if allowing me to prepare for certain spontaneities in the future. Hence the heightened enthusiasm for Kick Ass (which is so appropriate considering its amazingness) and the sad fact that you won't be able to see Mel Brooks at a film festival next week, to which I indifferently replied, "You'll live." You'll have to remember I had just walked about 20 blocks around Hollywood and Rodeo Drive (climbing trees in Beverly Hills, I might add, and chasing Jay Leno's car a whole block down the street screaming at him) with friends and was utterly pooped. No energy for matched enthusiasm whatsoever.

I'm sorry I get scared of Supernatural so easily and every other scary movie you're into and make you turn it off, I really am. I wish I didn't, but I'm not careless enough to not get scared.

And then I'm sorry for the days that have no explanation, when I'm merely stuck in a quicksand of moodiness with no way out but a few hours of distraction (meaning doing whatever the fuck I feel like doing).

This is my consent for you to not change anything about you, and thank you for putting up with me (since you thanked me for putting up with you, which is not as hard as you might think with those green eyes of yours).

It's a Bird! It's a Plane! No, It's Effing Kick-Ass!

I must admit, the first few words out of Aaron Johnson's mouth irritated me. Not what he said, but the way his voice strained to a high pitch between his pillowy pink lips. It reminded me of play-doh squeezing through a spaghetti strainer. Quite girly (a conscious decision, obviously). Then twenty minutes went by and I forgot about it. There was dazzling cinematic history blinding me instead.

There are no spoilers here, I promise: I am quite impressed and surprised by Dave's (Kick Ass kid) honest justification as to why he wears a green scuba suit equipped with two latch-on baton-hit-sticks (as I call them) on his back. He does not scowl the city looking for wrongdoing or impish fun or because he's bored or to impress anyone, it is merely because the kid has realized he and the rest of the world would much rather stand by safely while someone gets mugged than jump in and help. And he does not want that to be an owning characteristic any longer. He wants to be that one guy that actually gets the job done, even if he risks getting laughed at. Bravo, sir. "Like all serial killers know, eventually fantasizing just doesn't do it for you anymore." Right on.

His first close-contact with a superhero act does not go as planned. It gets him in the hospital, as it should, where half the bones in his body are replaced with metal ones and some nerve endings are shot to hell. But he's back at school a few weeks later regardless.

His second attempt back on the job has small intentions. He leisurely strolls the streets in full scuba get-up looking for a lost cat named "Mr. Bitey," asking pedestrians if they'd seen the feline. An innocent cat hunt eventually sends him face-first into the type of crime he was actually planning on fighting against to begin with in the parking lot of a shady diner. Three gangster assholes beating the living daylights out of one unarmed sorry fellow. Bring on the green batons. An enthusiastic Asian boy in the diner sees this (clustermuck of what is now two against three) and starts filming on his cell phone. Who is he? "I'm Kick-Ass!" he tells the boy. Huzzah!

The video winds up on YouTube (shocking) and is the most-viewed video on the Internet. Kick-Ass gets nationwide coverage on the news with nary a hair of arrogant ego atop his head. He is humbled.

Enter Big Daddy and Hit Girl. Now let me be the first to announce: Welcome back to the conversation, Nicolas Cage! The man was born to play the father and sidekick of his potty-mouthed, knife-skilled daughter, played to the extreme by 12-year-old Chloe Grace Moretz. I'm pretty sure her first fight scene introduction caused a few mother's jaws to drop at the sight of a small girl saying the C-word with intelligence and purpose (but rightfully so, I might add). It sent the audience in a victorious uproar, what a football stadium would sound like after a touchdown. Bad-assery accomplished. And then some.

I honestly think there is not one, but several climaxes in this film towards the end. Kick-Ass's duties continue to build in importance and tension and obligation once Red Mist (Christopher Mintz-Plasse) comes willingly to his side, but not for the right reasons. I must award Christopher in his first role as a guy I want to have raped in prison for his conniving ways to help his drug lord father get a hold of Kick-Ass so he can literally execute him on live television. The bad guy of all bad guys is convinced Kick-Ass killed half his fleet of men and attempts to stage him into a trap with his son's help as Red Mist. That anger isn't just you, it's the hate-o-meter rising.

I must warn you, there is a substantial amount of fat, juicy gore and eeriness enough to satisfy your movie violence needs. It even goes into overkill to the point where I had to look off screen at some points. My bellybutton actually sank backwards. I was saturated with, Oh, God, please no... ugh... just-just stop. Plenty of realistic looking war wounds and bruises to make you wince with sympathetic pain. You can actually feel your cheeks buzzing with every brass-knuckled punch to the face. But, hey, I mean, if that's your thing....

On another note, the overall soundtrack is perfection. I immediately bought the thing on iTunes the moment I returned home. It's hard guitar melodies mixed with synths and drums and the perfect escalations here and there to get your heart swelling ten times its size.

I give this movie a solid "Eff yeah!" and would indeed compare it to other marvelous comic book films like The Dark Knight (yeah, I said it). I invite you to enter into the amazingly operatic world of Kick-Ass without an ounce of regret.

I Love You, Liz.

She makes me smile. One of my many girl crushes.

30 Things I Love About Myself, Inspired By TheFrisky.com

So a writer at TheFrisky.com wrote a fabulous article about 30 things she loves about herself. This struck me because usually you see 30 things I love about blah blah and it's never someone writing about herself. Brilliant idea! At the end she suggested everyone do this, so I am merely being a soft pushover and saying, "Yes. I will participate in such a feminist act."

1. I am a total animal person. Anything with fur. Even hedgehogs.

2. It's hard for me to think, really and truly, that someone is physically ugly, even though I hear it all the time from friends.

3. I find Brad Pitt-looking boys to be boring to look at. Imperfections are what catch my eye.

4. I can draw like frickin' Da Vinci.

5. I can write anything I want with gusto and clarity and fantastic ambience.

6. I love using big words. Words fascinate me.

7. The fact that my hair is naturally reddish and wavy (it's dyed a medium auburn right now).

8. No acne! Victory!

9. The way my alabaster skin looks pinkish and smooth every morning.

10. My hands and feet are the opposite of freakish.

11. I can identify a car by looking at its headlight.

12. One of my best friends lives in Japan.

13. I've been to Japan! As well as Puerto Rico, Mexico, Canada, Spain, Italy, and France. I will be adding to this list as much as possible.

14. The fact that I consider fast food to be beneath my standards.

15. I don't like to wear a lot of make up. I very often just go without nary a coated eyelash. Otherwise I feel like there's something on my face I must take off immediately.

16. I haven't drunken a regular soda (or any soda) in longer than I can remember because I am aware of how much 40g of sugar actually is and that aspartame gives you cancer (it does!).

17. I care about the environment and encourage everyone on the planet to either by a hybrid car or travel by horse, which would be pretty freakin' cool.

18. I have never dropped out of a class despite my many, many doubts and realizations that it is quite difficult.

19. I believe reading books can make you more intelligent whether you know it or not, resulting in better vocabulary and grammatical structure while speaking.

20. Sometimes I prefer soundtrack music with violins and gongs and trumpets and real instruments as opposed to synthesized radio music. It's much more natural.

21. I definitely do not want my mother spending more money on me than she should because I believe parents should reward themselves as much as they reward their kids.

22. I know for a fact that if you do not have a boyfriend, you are not considered "alone." So suck it up and enjoy grocery shopping and working out by yourself for once!

23. No one should deprive themselves of the God-given gift of sweets like cupcakes, gummies, and ice cream because I sure don't.

24. My awesome wardrobe and fashion sense.

25. I love trying new foods even if they have a funny name or look weird. There's no point being narrow minded.

25. I don't have a love/hate opinion about anyone I've never met--aka celebrities.

26. I read the last Harry Potter book in 4 days.

27. A few years ago I had a great desire to speak French, so I spent two months teaching myself the language. It worked.

28. I wanted to go to film school, and actually did it.

29. Sometimes my dreams actually happen.

30. I know when enough is enough.

I too encourage people to do this list, or at least think about it.

Grocery List (aka what I grabbed at TJ's)

1 bundle of celery (for peanut butter)

1 package of frozen vegetable egg rolls (the best)

1 jug of TJ's iced tea and lemonade

1 bag of TJ's chocolate-dipped macaroons

1 box of frozen battered halibut

1 bag of frozen pasta mixed w/vegetables

1 bag of frozen shrimp stir fry (fantastical)

1 package of 2 frozen bean and rice burritos (1g of fat yo!)

1 box of dried apple and raspberry snackage

1 bag of reduced fat cheese puffs (put "cheese" and "puff" together and I'm down)

6 different-flavored Luna bars

Marvelous.

The Devil Appearith-at the Kick Ass Premiere??

It was going so damn well. I was there with three friends, one of them my sweeter-than-sweet roommate. We were in a small yet concentrated mob stationed at the side of the red carpet, behind a parked RV for the news anchors and photographers. We struck up conversation with two dazzling young guys from Connecticut. The premiere started. Finally, after over an hour of standing to reserve our space. First it was Clark from Hot Tub Time Machine (yet people were yelling "Mark!!" like idiots). Then came Evan, yet I have no idea who he was.

My (new boyfriend? I'm not sure what to call him) Special Friend joined us late after school. He literally ran over from the school across the street. At one point, he offered for me to get on his shoulders. I wasn't up for it at first because I'd rather not have him loose balance and then I face plant onto concrete. But he convinced me. I was five feet taller than everyone else (bow down, minions!). Everyone on the red carpet could just look over and see me. Including Nicolas Cage (blonde?!). SF had been yelling out random phrases since he arrived with his naturally projective voice, so it definitely traveled. I hadn't noticed Cage's arrival, but SF shouted, "I'm sorry you had to sell your house!" To which a paparazzo a few feet in front turned and barked, "Stop shouting stupid comments! It's rude! Show respect!" "What? No, I...no...." Everyone went quiet. "You've been saying stupid comments the whole time. Shut up." "But..I said I was sorry.... You're the one barking at everyone...." I wanted to curl up in a corner. How the hell did we walk into this? I was practically in shock mode, completely unaware that my mouth was agape as I hovered above everyone in the crowd. No, no, no! Dammit, I should've noticed Cage standing 10 feet away earlier, maybe it had to do with that fucking blondeness atop his skinny head. No wonder ass-face snapped at my SF. I'd never heard anyone say that to someone so kind. If only he knew him, he just happens to have an odd sense of humor, that's all! I could hear his voice drop three octaves too quiet, to a miserable low of sorrow. It's moments like these that make me despise Hollywood. Nice Star Trek hat, jerkoff!

The Gloriousness of Trader Joe's.

I am one of the healthiest teenagers I know, which is both sad and eye-opening. I respect food too much. I forced my mother to read a four-page-long French menu at the Farmer's Market one morning while she visited from Texas. Even though we weren't going to eat there ($13 appetizers), I saw her scan it and then look away. "Read!" I snapped. This wasn't a McDonald's or science-lab chain restaurant. It was a one-of-a-kind cafe with chefs pickier than the Project Runway judges. This was grilled cheese with ham with an extra layer of cheese on top so you had to use a knife and fork to eat it, along with a garnish of thyme. Tiny strawberries that were so red inside they stained your clothes and tasted like cherries. Glass-bottled Evian from the heavenly French Alps. It's the same emotions tied to having a boy crush. That's right: I crush on food.

The first time I bought shrimp stir fry at Trader Joe's, my face lit up at the sight of a packaged sauce that actually froze when you put it in the freezer. Oh, happy days! It was better than I expected: juicy baby shrimp, crunchy veggies, aldente egg noodles. Perfect. Why can't everyone have the same expectations from their food? I demand to know!