Maybe Change is not Sooooo Horrible

I am not a big fan of change. I do not like it when my shampoo brand changes the formula, when my favorite restaurant switches up the menu, or when my facewash updates it's label forcing me to scour the shelves that much longer just to find the now unfamiliar bottle. I especially do not like it when your best friends/ roommates move out and leave you living with strangers and a blank social calendar. I have always been averse to shake-ups big and small. Routine is good. And now I find myself in a world where I no longer have a steady Monday night date have no idea what time roommates predictably take showers. It's utter chaos I tell you! Over the last week I've started to come out of my shell. New can be exciting. By coming down from my anti-change squawk box I've started to realize what I have been missing out on. Like banana pie from tartine while I read my book in Dolores park. And american chop suey night with AP. I might not be ready to do something as crazy as stop eating cheerios for breakfast every morning. But I'm quite proud of the progress I've made so far.

Casting Call

The housing market is a bit ridic in San Francisco. We have a room up on Craigslist in our 4 bedroom no drama apartment and people are treating our posting like it's a Real World casting call. Potentials are stepping up their game. Gone are the days of a three line reply about yourself. I'm getting facebook pages, blogs, resumes, credit reports, and youtube video links. Everyone is brutally honest about there freaky habits and compulsive behaviors. Stuff I'd probably NEVER find out about. I think one girl even responded in the form of a Haiku? They're desperate desperate girls. The mania is slightly entertaining - someone just offered to sing and dance (literally). But come on folks, enough already!

Sweat on Ice

I love the smell of frozen sweat.  I know it's a weird scent to find pleasing.  It's up there with gasoline and bleach.  But something there is just something about that hockey rink aroma that really does it for me.  Not sure if it's the undertones of aged perspiration escaping from the pads or the fresh sent of chilled testosterone I prefer.  Maybe it's how the two combine into a more complicated musk.  Regardless, when I step into the rink I inhale a big lungful as if I was one of those ladies in the laundry detergent commercials admiring their handiwork. If you could bottle the dirty hot scent up and sell it at cologne I'd probably buy it.  Can't be that far off considering this is on the market.

All I Want for Christmas...

I've been asking for the same two things for christmas since I was five - a pony and a puppy. I'm now 27 and I don't have either. That's 22 years of disappointment. Realistically, I know a pudgy pony would not be happy in my tiny SF apartment. But a wrinkly little pug dog would love it! I make so easy for mom and dad. Pug for christmas = happy daughter. Verdict is still out for this year. Wouldn't you be happy if you found one of these little guys under the christmas tree?

Brit Brit

Watched the Brittany Spears MTV special last night.  Couldn't help but feel a little bit sorry for Brit Brit.  She's kind of like her development stunted around 15 years old.  She giggles, plays, gets frustrated, pouts.  I was really hoping she'd prove us all wrong.   Show us she's a pulled together fierce diva.  Instead she came off as distant and lost.  Sad really.  Brit Brit needs a hug.

Economic Stimulation

It's official. The smarty pants analysts are saying we've been in a recession since last December. I always wondered how my habits would change if the economy really slumped. Would I start making my own clothes, canning tomatoes for winter, hide my savings under my mattress? Sounds very cozy and little house on the prairie like. But no, I have been dealing by spending $$. I'm having an adverse reaction the thought of being thrifty. I'm spending more money on moi then ever before. I like to think I am actually contributing to the bailout. That it's really my patriotic duty to go but new cute motorcycle boots and cashmere cardis. What what.

Almost French

Mais Oui! I cooked a real frenchified dinner for my besties last night.  Decided to road test my skills from last week's cooking class in Paris. Success!  I recreated the coquille st. jacques in a saffron mustard sauce with basmati rice and green beens.  Of course there was lots of wine and cheese just in case, sacre bleu, there was a disaster in the kitchen.  Top Chef here I come.