Thursday, November 14, 2013

Oktoberfest

Where has October gone?!? I feel like a broken record asking that question every time I sit down to add to this blog but seriously... who the heck sped the time up in 2013?!? The fact that I haven't unpacked my suitcase all the way in several months now is undoubtedly a contributing factor to this perceived sense that the world is turning more quicky than usual, and if I am indeed correct in this assertion then all is well with the world. Time may feel like it is marching on faster than I can guzzle down a glass of milk, but the time itself has been spent marvelously with good food, great friends, and the happy accrual of plenty o' airline miles. So to Father Time, I say "Ha! Thou hast not dulled my fun any."

So... October. This tenth month of our calendar year is one of my favorites for a variety of reasons, as I touched upon previously. For one, pumpkins. Pumpkin bread, pumpkin smoothies, pumpkin body scrubs, pumpkin pie, pumpkin lattes, pumpkin soup- that stuff is eeeeeverywhere. As a general rule, I am a happier person when there is pumpkin in my life, and October marks its seasonal debut. Secondly- fall wardrobe. Not that this makes me a particularly unique specimen of the female gender, but I find fall clothing options delightful. I get to dust off the boots, the scarves, the leggings, the cute coats and I love every moment of it. And for those of you non-Californians scoffing at me right now and telling yourselves that I couldn't possibly have any need for said items, just shut it. I get it- I live in San Diego where 96.7% of the time, the weather is most accommodating and wam by most standards. But despite what Katy Perry and the Beach Boys have led you to believe about SoCal weather, it is not actually sunny and warm 365 days a year over here. We don't walk around in booty shorts and bikini tops all day; it rains, it gets below 40 degrees, the wind blows and the sun does indeed play hide and seek for days or weeks at a time. Our cold may not be as cold as your cold, so you'll wear your North Face down-filled jacket while there's a significant chance my jacket was purchased from Forever 21. All I know is that If it's 40 out and its raining, I'm going to don my warm accoutrements and don't want to hear any lip about it. 

But back to the reasons October is awesome: so many birthdays! I have a dear friend or family member born on the 2nd, 5th, 6th, 10th, 14th, 17th, 24th, 25th, 26th and 30th of this month, then there's the 23rd which is my own date of birth. I like to make a thing of celebrating not just for the day but for the week or entire month if at all possible. I'm sure that sounds a tad prima-donna of me, but I promise it isn't. I don't expect the world to shower me with presents all month long or fan me with palm fronds, I just make it a point to fill the month with activities that I enjoy with the people that keep a smile on my face. I'll do the planning, you just have to accept the invite or tell me what airport to fly into and indicate whether you have a couch I can sleep on. 

That being said, Operation Birthday 2013 has been one of my favorite missions if not THE favorite. I have officially entered the last year of my twenties and I am happy to report that the "holy-expletive-I'm-almost-thirty" mania has not set in, at least not in a bad way. There is a healthy amount of goal setting and introspection being had, but I haven't signed up for an arranged marriage or made an appointment to have my eggs frozen yet. I did however spend every single weekend in October and a few select weekdays celebrating in one fashion or another. I've slept remarkably little, tested the efficacy of my kidneys and liver, consumed entirely too many calories and totally slacked on my usual gym routine. I'd do it all again in a heartbeat though, and here are some reasons why: 

October Week 1: Library Lust, Live Music, Love of Dance
- Several hours spent at the new Central Library in Downtown San Diego finishing some classic Agatha Christie, delving into some David Sedaris (and stifling my laughter whilst doing it), and adding to what I hope to be my first attempt at a published work, all while snuggled in a big, blue, comfy couch in the solarium/reading room with a panoramic view of the east village. Spotify mixes employed: "Strings" (classical jams and contemporary remakes), "Pensive" (make-you-think music), and "Invincible!" (girl power, inspiration, I'm-a-badass type selections).


I'm home.


Reminiscent of the Hogwarts staircases...


Dewey love.

- Kelly Clarkson/Maroon 5 Concert with my cousin Alexis; scored tickets for great seats on Ebay last minute for an absolute steal, then spent the evening belting along to Kelly and crooning over Adam. Seriously though- "Since U Been Gone" never EVER fails to make me sing at the very top of my lungs, as if I have one iota of that woman's vocal capacity. I've actually embarrassed myself on at least 10 occasions on the freeway or at a stoplight singing along to this song; some people start singing along, others chuckle or just shake their heads. The first few times I think I blushed, but after that I stopped caring and even turned up the volume and car dancing. To hell with it= YOLO. Anyway, Kelly actually has several of these "ooooh girl, tell em!" anthems, many of which live in my "Invincible!," "Ache," "Rockin Out," and "Voices" playlists. "Since U Been Gone" is just the ultimate one (just ask the kids fom Pitch Perfect). As for Adam Levine... I need to devise a plan to see how Jagger-like this man's moves really are. Some might call me a creepy, stalker wanna-be homewrecker as I have a smiliar agenda for Liam Hemsworth; I prefer to think of myself as a diligent seeker of truth and curious fact-checker. Yeah yeah, he's engaged to some supermodel and whatnot, but let's not go killing my dreams just yet. I don't need forever with that tattoed white boy, I just really wanna love somebody, I really wanna dance the night away. 


Family by chance, (best) friends by choice.


Adam- call me. 

-Trolley Dances with Alexis; this was an amazing production put on by Jean Isaac's San Diego Dance Theater that I'm as equally elated that I attended as I am utterly annoyed that I didn't discover sooner! As the program I was handed puts it, "Trolley dances began in 1999 with a unique and distinctly urban concept: bring dance to the people using public transportation and introduce people to new neighborhoods and places." It is a part walking tour/part trolley ride to a handful of carefully selected landmarks in a given neighborhood/territoy where members of the dance company then perform an original contemporary piece. The version I experienced was in San Diego and started at Northgate Plaza before moving on to Chicano Park, the new Central Library in Downtown's east village, and ending at the Monarch School. The performances were en plain aire for the most part and smack in the middle of the hulabaloo of a regular Sunday afternoon. The Northgate Plaza performance drew interesting looks from passersby on their way to buy their carne asada and Fabuloso from Northgate Market who were clearly confused as to why a throng of people had gathered outside the Tocumbo Neveria to watch a handul of people dressed in white were positioning themselves oddly by the fountain; library goers were startled when they tried to use the south exit and encountered five or six casually dressed individuals rolling up and down the steps in seemingly slow motion. It was such an amazing experience; if you live or find yourself in San Diego, Riverside or San Francisco, I urge you to look into this. 


Northgate Plaza


Chicano Park


"Artsy" trolley shot.


Library steppin'


Touching piece danced to live choral music. gasp.

 
Hearts to the sun.

October Week 2: Diego to the Bay
- Friday evening was spent in Oakland avec mon ami Dustin. We dined on beer, wine, lamb burgers and harisa spiced steak at a venue named The Spice Monkey. We spoke of yoga, of Folsom, of high school days of yore... I sat in the most comfortable %#&@ing chair covered in cowhide and met his new plant which is apparently of Latin American descent. Best of all, I slept in a closet-turned-guest room that we called my little cupboard under the stairs. Livin the Harry Pottern dream, y'all. Oh, and I locked Dustin out of his apartment. Guest of the year award goes to....


Dustin's digs.


Lake life.

-Saturday morning I met up with one of my college BFFs Maya at Brown Sugar Kitchen for brunch. Sigh... proof that time does nothing to erode the strength of true friendship, folks! The beignets and chicken/waffle foodstuffs were delectable- light and sweet and savory and wonderful. I learned my girl is kicking ass and taking names, travelling the world and killing the game over at Oracle. Look out for this woman, world. She may look like a chipmunk and/or Keroppi the frog when she smiles at you sweetly and calls you "hon," but make noi mistake- she could buy you and sell you. 

 
Maya (my chipmunk) and the ghost of my face.

- Saturday afternoon I headed to Campbell to watch the Dodger game with my friend Clara who was briefly my roommate whilst living in Burbank a few years ago. We're both LA fans living in cities that aren't particularly accepting of our fandom, so we watched the game together and lamented the loss. Still, it was nice catching up. She showed me around Campbell and also showed me the world's teeniest sequined cheerleader outfit... for her dog Bella. :)


#BurbankPorvida

- Saturday evening was spent in San Francisco with my lovely friend Julie and habitual dance partner Carlos Marroquin, otherwise known as DTF (Yes, it means what you think, unless you live in Orange County in which case you might be thinking Downtown Fullerton. That's so not it). He got stuck with that nickname years ago after a hilarious inebriated conversation and I don't think I'll ever be able to call him anything else. Lucky him. Anyay, I learned a few things Iin San Francisco: 1) it's freaking cold there and parking sucks. 2) Julie's father works on the Kendal Jackson/La Crema vineyard?? The basket of mini-muffins is as good as in the mail. 3) Salvadorans looooove to say "bien a verga!" 4) There exists a thing called a Victorian punch bowl, and said bowl is most definitly too large for consumption by three people, particulary when two outta three of these individuals are females who don't drink much. 5) Victorian punch bowl comsumption by three overachievers leads to storefront photoshoots, Macarena dancing in the streets, and awkward shoving followed by name calling. It also leads to Spanish love letters and the coining of the motto, "Simple Bitches!"  although If you ask Julie, it's "Plain Bitches." Don't listen to her.


Simple Bitches!!


I was thirsty.


The DTF Double Fist.


LIGHTS!!!! Some place called Murio's where I annoyed people with my incessant photoraphy.


The following morning... Captain Amnesia. 

 -On Sunday, after a quick breakfast with DTF and Simple Bitch 1, I made my way to Santa Clara to see one of my bestest friends Carlos (a different one, not to be confused with DTF, haha) living that law school life. It was a gorgeous day, perfect for a tour around the campus of Santa Clara University. SCU is much small than I imagined but altogether very nice; the mission in particular was beautiful in its simplicty and interesting layout, and I loved the great panoramic views from the study spaces at the library (you're shocked, I know). Carlos showed me all the hot spots where the SCU kid go for the turn-up (Mondo's and The Hut, you may have heard of them) then took me around Downtown San Jose. We then made our way to Santana Row, which as he said it would, struck me as Silicon Valley's version of LA's Grove or Americana. We walked and talked (well, mostly I talked.... it's usually 70/30 with me, right sunshine?) before brunching on Singaporan-inspired cuisine. After that... I honestly don't know where the rest of the day went! I know we went to Campbell and had Swirls (i.e. sugar-headache molotov cocktails) at a place called Aqui while watching Sunday night football and engaging in more of the chit chat, then before I knew it, it was almost midnight. I guess time flies when you're telling all the funny cuentos and strolling down memory lane. 


Splendor in the grass. 


A view from the top. Of the library, of course.

October Week 3: Faves of America's Finest City
- Kicked off this weekend by attending what I was told would be a mariachi festival with my cousins Alexis and Amanda as well as my maternal grandparents. I flew down to San Ysidro on a Friday evening after work looking for the San Ysidro Multicultural Complex, which I imagined to be some large, magnificent edifice rife with Latin American art and culture. Alas, after spending several minutes driving up and down the street that both Google and Apple maps assured me was the right one, I called Alexis and learned that this "Multicultural Complex" was the run down little auditorium at San Ysidro Middle School (ballin'!) and the term "mariachi festival" was apparently code for "hey, there will be a mariachi band in the building for about an hour while followed by a 'serious band' comprised of a bunch of glorified Mexican wedding singers and you can buy tostadas in the back for a dollar."  It was really more of a gathering and board member recognition for an organization called "Hearts & Hands Working Together." They are a non-profit agency whose primary mission is “to provide food, shoes and clothing to the ‘underserved’ and ‘at risk’ individuals/families, and, refer them to other resources that will lessen the threat for them, in the San Ysidro Community." Wonderful cause, not to wonderful event organization. I did however get to hear a great performance of my favorite mariachi song (Cascabel) and danced to the cumbia jams with my Abuela for the first time since she beat cancer. Priceless.


"Mariachi Festival"


Abuela will cut you.

-Saturday was a pre-birthday day of fun with Alexis and Amanda wherein we spent the day doing a few of my favorite San Diego things. We had Greek for lunch in Hillcrest (mmmmm, gyros), then went to Baked Bear in PB for a delicious dessert (funfetti cookie sandwich with mint chocolate chip ice cream = mouthgasm). We took a walk out onto the pier, which was Alexis' idea, when quickly walked back when Alexis started hyperventilating over her fear of heights. I tried to be helpful by jumping up and down on the pier next to her, which some of you will think was cruel as it makes the pier shake and scare her further. I was only trying to help cure her fear! Gees. Anyway, next we cut back to Liberty Station where we enjoyed a fruit & cheese platter and some delightful wine at Wine Steals. We wrapped it up with a drive down Harbor, my favorite drive in San Diego. To enrich the experience, we blasted M83's "Midnight City." This is my "zen" place- this drive calms me, it invigorates me, it comforts me all at once. There's just something about the lights, the skyline in the distance, the water, the Coronado bridge... it is beauty. Alexis shares my affinity for this drive, so we find a way to fit it in even when it means taking the long way home. Sometimes, you just gotta. 


My birthday present from Alexis and Amanda: it has a cape!!!!


Hillcrest is funny.


Oh yeah... I live in a gorgeous city.


My rare, unpremeditated smile says it all... perfect day.



Terror on the pier. That Vanessa chick was such a jerk for jumping up and down on the pier like that.



October Week 4: Dinners, Parts I and II 
- Birthday Dinner Part I was spent with my three #1s- my mother, father and brother. My birthday is an especially happy occasion because it's only one of a handful of times a year when I can pick one of "my" restaurants, one where in addition to wine, there are things like "braised," "bechamel," and "white wine reduction" on the menu, where pancetta, goat cheese or pine nuts are staples and there is at least one thing on the menun that sounds appaling but tastes like divinity. My father is a simple man who likes simple food like sandwiches and Rubios, and my brother thinks anything culinarily interesting "equals chorro." But on the anniversary of my birth, I get to pick and more importantly- no one makes a face. So: I picked Bencotto Italian Kitchen in San Diego's Little Italy. Twas delightful! in addition to the charm of my either authentically Italian or talented thespian server Giada, the Nebbiolo was delicious and the house-made tagliatelle with the summer sauce was perfection. Plus I was served a cute little tiramisu with a birthday candle in it, and that sh*t was decadent as hell. Aaaaaand they have good lighting. SCORE. 


Mother.



Father.


Brother.


Winer.

- Birthday Dinner Part II was spent with a lovely group of females; you've heard of Daisy, Karina and Jasmine from other blog posts, and I was also joined by Jamy, Heather and Cristal. For this meal, I drove up to LA since my 7am flight the following day was out of LAX. I chose 041 Bacaro in Culver City, an Italian eatery with Venetian influence thatb we stumbled across on a food tour (p.s.- Secret City LA food tours is a great time, look them up!! BYOB party plus plus amazing, lesser-known LA eats. What's not to like?!?). So.... really, I would have been happy with just the lighting. In case you haven't picked up on the obsession, I go gaga for interesting lighting fixtures. I have a particular affinity for chandeliers, and this place serves 'em up big and bright. But in addition to tripping the light fantastic, the food was molto bene. There was meat in a butter sauce, there was a chopped panceta, date and gorgonozola salad, there was gnocchi and branzino and all sorts of mouth-watering deliciousness. The only thing better than the taste bud explosion (and tasty dessert treats from Porto's) was the laughter. It was that amazing, racuous, incontrollable laughter that nourishes the soul and flexes the abdominals, the kind that makes you look crazy unattractive in photos and cements itself in your brain and heart as a treasured memory. I learned that I've been doing myself a disservice in not "washing the top," a shortcut to fabulous second-day hair without washing your entire head of hair. I also learned the many uses of baby powder and its effectiveness in avoiding what I'll just call inter-rack moisture. And on that note, I will take another sip of my wine.


OMG.


My loves.


Ebony and Eggshell.


We heart the vino, and cheekbones.


Jamy demonstrating proper powder application.


D plus V.


Oh... my.

-After very, very little sleep, I woke my butt up at 4am to get ready to fly to Boston... that trip gets its own blog post. 

Saturday, September 21, 2013

How I Spent My Summer (non)Vacation: July edition

Buenos Diaz!! So.. yeah. Where the heck did summer go?!? One minute all the kids and teens in the city were running from campus singing "Schooooooool's oooooout foooooor summerrrrrrrr!!!!' and the next I was standing in line at Target with a bunch of tweens buying One Direction backpacks and sparkly headbands. My commute time has doubled, the seasonal margaritas are being pulled from the menu... yep, it's official. Summer has drawn to a close.

I admit I'm nowhere near as sad about this as most people are; I am a typical girl (if I'm to believe a certain green-eyed buddy of mine) in that I love, love, love the fall. The boots and jackets come out, the weather is perfect for snuggling up with a good book or movie, and most importantly: there's a pumpkin explosion of yummy treats available at a retailer near you. Oh, and there's my birthday too. Fall = awesome, and don't you deny it.

This summer however was pretty great on my end, and I am indeed sorry to see it go. I stayed quite busy! In fact, last weekend was the first one in which I did not leave town since mid July. My suitcase was never really unpacked the entire time, it was kind of great. Allow me to try and recap it all from the slew of blog entries I have drafted and unpublished, starting with the month of July.

I kicked off July with a trip to Riverside to visit my cousin Johnny, his wife Loleta and my adorable toddler nephew Johnny Eli. So first of all- let me just clear the air here. I was raised in a Mexican household, and so to me, family structure is as follows: the people that made you are your mother and father. Any other kids they made are your siblings. Their parents are your grandparents; their siblings and sibling's spouses are your uncles and aunts (tias and tios); your tia's/tio's kids are your cousins. Eeeeeverybody else that shares a bloodline is a tia, tio, or cousin. That's it- simple. When all y'all start asking me if someone is my first, second or third cousin  and how many times removed- you've lost me. I bring this up because Johnny is my mom's cousin's son, so many of you like to point out to me that he isn't my first cousin and his son isn't my nephew. Know how I feel about that?


Johnny is my cousin, his son is my nephew. So zip it!

Back to my story: these are three of my favorite people in the world, and my little weekend trips with them are quickly becoming some of my fondest memories. Our routine is pretty standard: we play with the little one, Loleta and I might go get our nails done or else run a few quick errands, then we head back to their apartment for more toddler play before putting him to bed. Once he's slumbering peacefully, the adults share a yummy dinner and some laughs. My cousin Johnny is actually Pastor Johnny, so I admit that I was a liiiiiiittle nervous when I came up for my first visit about two years ago. I mean, I'm no heathen or anything, but there's something about being in the presence of a pastor that I think would cause many people to feel like they needed to be on their best behavior. Yeah... I relaxed about 15 minutes after walking through the door. Johnny is (still, as he was in our youth) the funniest guy, and his wife is an absolute sweetheart who I count among my closest friends. In fact I might like her better than you, Johnny. Sorry dude. And yes, they are people of God, but they're regular people! They have silly couple's arguments and watch Scandal like the rest of us. And they brought this little tyke into my life, so they're automatically awesome.


I concluded this weekend with a day trip to Temecula for wine tasting with two friends. We drank lots of wine and enjoyed a yummy lunch- perfect conclusion to a great weekend. 




I think I spent every other weekend in July in either LA or Orange County. I kicked it off with a trip to Huntington Beach for a beach clean up. The event was organized by my job's philanthropy committee, and God love 'em for trying, pero..... all I know is I got up at 5:30am on a Saturday to drive an hour and a half and go clean a really clean freaking beach. The event included all members of my division in our Southern California group plus any significant others and children; so please, if you will, envision 150 of us trolling this beach searching for trash with all of our might, and by "searching" I mean desperately looking for something besides seaweed. We walked and walked, cursed when we thought we'd spotted some litter that turned out to be a stupid seashell, got geekishly stoked when we came across the remnants of someone's water ballloon flight and fought over the shredded pieces of latex... it got so sad that my boss's daughter suggested we ask the regular beachgoers and picnic people for their trash. I mean, we were there for a beach clean up and all I had to show for it after an hour of scavenging was a few torn water balloons, a bottle cap and a stick that I threw in to make my trash bag heavier. I knew they'd weigh all the bags at the end and broadcast how much trash we'd collected. My bag was pretty pitiful, the stick was very necessary.

In any case, the trip was well worth it as my buddy Carlos drove down from LA and met me afterwards for dinner. The countdown was on for him to leave for law school in a little over a month, I'd soon be losing my coffee buddy! See, I use to bug him to meet up with me every time I drove to or through LA, it had become a bit of a tradition that I knew I'd have to let go of soon. We'd usually meet up at the Starbucks on Western and Slauson to sit around, laugh and talk about random nonsense. He'd have a soy latte, I'd have a passion fruit tea or iced coffee; he'd crack me up with his tales of galavanting around LA with his guy crew which many of know as "the squad" and I'd vent to him about whatever family or work issue was on my mind that week. These little chat session would soon be a thing of the past, so I was glad to spend some time with him in Costa Mesa where we met up. 

Shortly after my weekend living that OC life, it was time to head up to LA for the Legends of Summer tour; I could hardly contain my excitement- JT AND Hov?!? How could I not attend? I was initially a tad peeved when I discovered the show was on a Sunday, but it worked to my benefit as I made a whole LA weekend of it; I was working in Orange County that Friday anyway, so I made the drive up to LA after wrapping up my work day and spent the evening with my BFF Daisy. I said it then and I say it now like I say all the time: I love (and miss) LA. My evening with Daisy was a great curbing of my craving. We had dinner and drinks at an adorable and hidden gem called The Second Story tucked inside the Hotel Belamar. What a great little find! I was already sold when my drinks were a)strong and b)two for one, but the amazing lighting fixtures sealed the deal for me. Pretty lights are one of my obsessions.


Anyhow, we dined on this amazing cider-brined pork chop with a side of blue cheese mashed potatoes and some delicious apple salad then headed to a cute bar that's just trendy enough to attract a couple of hipsters but not enough to make you want to slit your wrists at the so-called "LA-ness" of it all. This venue is the one I described in my last post when I revealed what a terrible wing-woman I am. Ugh. That idiot guy and his warm salty nuts are still on my nerves, and that mess happened weeks ago.

The following day I met up with Carlos once again for a bite and some chit chat. And because we're uber classy individuals, we threw in some Twisted Tea as well for entertainment (never heard of it? Look it up. Only for the grown and sexy). After some good conversation and the best eggplant ever, his cell phone went off with an important message from The Squad. The text read something like "Where you at? Roll through, there's mad bitches!" I laughed and bid him adieu shortly thereafter then curled up with a good book for the rest of the evening. I was now down to just a few weeks before his big law school departure so I was glad to see him even if only for a little while. 

The next day was spent blissfully in the warm Pasadena sun... i picked up my girl Karina and we made our way to the Rose Bowl for a pre-concert picnic on the lawn of some unlucky golf course. We picked up a couple of five dollar footlongs and some mini-bottle of Barefoot wine then soaked up some Vitamin D sitting next to my Altima couple on the grass. We hid what bottles we couldn't finish in time in our cleavage and made our way into the arena, then bought a lemonade, pounded it, and dumped the bottles' contents into the plastic cup. We sipped on our White Zin happily and impatiently waited for the show to start.

Keepin' it classy.

With our stunna shades on. Hers are a few hundred and quality, mine are crappy $8 versions and were purchased in Costa Rica by the beach. 

"It's pink lemonade, honest!"

Suddenly, I spotted a couple dancing and singing out of the corner of my eye. I did a slight double take when I realized who i was looking at; it was Twitch and Allison from So You Think You Can Dance making their way to their seats. This is when I learned that I can never ever ever meet a "real" celebrity. I used to think that if Mr. Liam Hemsworth, Michael Ballack or other sexy light-eyed celebrity sauntered over to me, I'd be able to keep my cool. I didn't think I'd suddenly know how to flirt and land anyone's phone number, but I thought I'd maybe pull off a flirtatious hair toss or even an effortlessly witty comment. Let me be the first to say I was dead ass wrong. WRONG. Soooo wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong aaaaall over the place. Wrong to the umpteenth power.

I dorked out so hard! when they walked by me, I reached out and clutched poor Allison's thigh like I knew her or something and blurted out some rapid-fire nonsense about me being both of their biggest fan. They smiled and thanked me graciously, but it would have been well within their rights to call in a security incident. They shook my hand and headed to their seats, and only then did I finally get it together. Did I just clutch that girl's thigh?! Did I enunciate? Why hadn't I asked for a picture?! I soon felt better and simultaneously worse when about a hundred other people figured out who they were and accosted them for photos and autographs.  I sat there outwardly criticizing these mongrels for bothering these nice people when all they wanted to do was enjoy the concert like everybody else, but inside I was jealous and chastising myself for lack of gall and abundance of awkwardness. Karina finally had enough of my sulking and grabbed my phone from me to request a picture, and her timing was impeccable as the couple had stood up from their seats and was standing in the aisle next to me indulging another fan. I apologized for my awkward behavior earlier and they were once again gracious with me and were happy to snap a pic with me. All's well that ends well, I suppose, but I learned a valuable lesson: if I ever meet any of my hardcore celebrity crushes, I WILL get arrested. Someone please bail me out. 
          
Thank you. Just... thank you.

The concert itself was epic, trite as that partcular description has become. I honestly questioned what the quality of the experience would be because of the venue. I've seen JT at the Staples Center and that experience left its mark on me for several weeks, but that was an enclosed venue with great acoustics, lighting and staging capabilities. This time we were en plain air and at the Rose Bowl, and while I was clearly aware that these two artists are megastars and not some indie rock band promoting their first EP, I was a little skeptical. Those fears were soon assuaged but quick! The show began once the sun went down and thus began a two hour party. My quads were on fire the next day from all the dancing and my throat was hoarse from singing (read: yelling) along to JT and Jay's greatest hits. That was possibly my favorite element of the show- I love me some Magna Carta and 20/20 but laaaaaaaawd was I happy to hear all those older jams. Their sets were intertwined so I was swaying to selections from Justified and FutureSexLoveSounds one minute then BOOM! cuts from the Blueprint albums and Reasonable Doubt. 


And if the show itself wasn't enough, the people-watching was an absolute riot. Picture a Venn diagram: in circle A we have the JT fans, in circle B we have the Jigga faithful, and then we have the overlap in the middle. It would appear that the majority of those in attendance would fall into that overlap area, but there were of course a substantial number of individuals there who were strictly As or Bs. This lead to comedy for me. I got to observe uber-glam stiletto-clad diva types dripping in jewels and eyeshadow and groups of pre-pubescent tweens all sway awkardly in place during Jay'z songs and pretend to know the words. It was like watching one of those Japanese flicks dubbed in English where the timing is jus a few seconds off, only the characters were wearing Seven jeans or "Your Boyfriend Thinks I'm Hot" t-shirts. On the opposite end of the spectrum were the packs of manly men, thug types, and husbands/boyfriends posing under the guise of being there only for Jay. Those stood up and went buck when Big Pimpin' came on and then tried soooo hard to pretend they weren't enjoying the sh*t out of My Love when Justin took back the mic. We all had a good time, even if some pretended not to. 

If I go on, this entry will become a novella, so I'll end it here. I'll leave August's shenanigans for later in the week. 

Wishing you a happy Sunday Funday and hoping my Chargers please please PLEASE pull off another win,
Vanessa