the daddy issues in my relationship

My boyfriend/KittyDaddy was at the doctor's recently and the doctor suspected something wrong might be going on with his heart so he was referred to a cardiologist. After several tests, the cardiologist deemed that Jesse was a-ok.

However, on the day of his lastest test, I was stressing out. That test was the most vigorous and the most telling. Being the pessimist that I am, I suspected Jesse might be headed for a pre-mature death and I was terrified. I love him so much and I don't know what I would do without him and I haven't given much thought to how I would function should something awful happen. I can't NOT have him in my life.

I've been feeling so happy and satisfied with my life lately that I'm expecting my world to come crashing down any second Why enjoy the happiness when there is impending doom?

The good stuff can't really last, can it? I'm sure my mom had no idea that her husband/my dad would end up getting cancer and dying before my third birthday. From what I know of that time (before the big C), everything was perfect in my mom's life--she had a husband she adored who was a loving father to two (with me on the way) smart kids with a roof over her head and food on the table. And then one day, my father, who had never smoked a day in his life, suddenly gets lung cancer and passes away within three years of his diagnosis, leaving my mom as a widow and a single mom to three kids.

I get a lump in my throat just typing this.

The thing is, three years prior to my dad's passing, my mom had no idea that her perfect life would suddenly take a turn for the worst possible scenario. Nearly 30 years later, my mom has moved on but she still has her moments. To this day, I know she still wonders what could've been of her life had my father hadn't passed (heck, I wonder that too).

So I've been thinking a lot about my dad lately as Jesse goes through these tests (he's ok, so far). In the interim, we've decided to start living healthier lives by eating better, snacking less, and exercising more. I hope to have a long, happy life with him but you can never be sure about these things.

As Jesse and I continue to talk about marriage and spending the rest of our lives together, I can't help but wonder when will the good times stop? I can't possibly be this lucky to have the perfect boyfriend, great friends, a loving family, the most satisfying job, and two perfect kitties (actually, Gracie's not perfect, now that I think about it).

I find myself so absolutely afraid of losing it all that I can't always enjoy how happy it makes me now.

DC and the transient nature of its residents

Today is my DC-versary. On this day 6 years ago, I left my family and friends behind and moved to DC, a city with no family or friends of mine. I knew no one and despite the fact that I was not alone in not knowing anyone, it took me a while to find friends. Sure, you can always find someone to go to happy hour with. Someone to drink your sorrows away with. But as far as true, honest to goodness, loyal peeps you can always count on to talk to when the going gets tough--yeah, those are very rare in this city.

My problem is that I find that one true friend and then the friend moves away. This has happened to me multiple times. Sometimes they're an intern and their internship is over and now it's time to go back to her real home. Or maybe it's a job as a contractor and the job is now up. Or maybe he decides to buy a home with the boyfriend whose job is taking him to another city. Or maybe she can't find a good job and has to move home where good jobs are abundant. OR maybe they just happened to apply and get into very prestigious PhD/Masters programs and therefore need to move abroad/to Princeton/to the Midwest. Yes, all of these have happened to me. The last one is the latest reason why three of my good friends are leaving me at the end of this summer.

You're probably all thinking, well, OC girl, you can totally maintain these friendships despite the distance. Yes, that's true. And with everyone who has left me and DC before, I have attempted to do so. In fact, the aforementioned intern is someone I still consider a great and true friend. However, that doesn't work for everyone. When it comes to friendships, distance doesn't necessarily make the heart grow fonder. In fact, distance is often a deal killer. Long distance friendships take work (right, Cali peeps?) and if only one person puts in the effort (such as what happened between me and the boy who bought a place with boyfriend in another city), then the friendship very easily falls apart.

Gone are the conciliatory drinks and coffee breaks ("I'm so sorry I've been so busy. Let's meet for drinks on Friday and catch up!"). Instead, unreturned emails and phone calls abound.

Although I am really happy that my friends are moving along academically (M with her Masters program and S and V with their PhD programs), I am really, really upset to see them go...all at the same time. It's this constant cycle of good people coming into and out of my life and, although I've tolerated the departures of my friends in the past, this time I want to put my foot down and scream, "NO!"

I understand that the revolving door of friendships keeps turning because people keep coming to and leaving DC. This city doesn't seem to be the place where one stays (unless you're in the military or politics or both) and settles and raises a family. In the long journey of life, DC is like a pitstop where one refuels or gets a tune up and then moves on to the next destination refreshed and re-energized. Why don't people stay for longer than a few years? This place isn't so bad. Yeah, I complain about it all the time (really, it's the weather and the people who think everything revolves around them). But it's still a nice place to be.

Sometimes I look at Jesse and what he's got and I'm jealous. Jesse has lived in Northern Virginia since he moved here from Charlottesville as a wee lad. Jesse has the same group of friends that he's had since elementary school. The group grew in size when they added new friends in high school and college. And still, all of his friends are all here, living in NoVA and still hanging out. A big group of guys (and a couple of girls) who grew up together and managed to stay friends through it all. Yeah, I definitely get jealous.

The truth is (and I know this sounds incredibly selfish) I just really wish my friends were here with me all the time that way I wouldn't miss them so much.

that macy's parade ain't got nothing on me

Thanksgiving is really not a big deal in my family. Christmas is a big deal and our birthdays are a big deal, but Thanksgiving? Not so much. Yeah, we do the whole turkey meal with mashed potatoes and stuffing, but I don’t make it a point to go home for Thanksgiving. When I was younger, Thanksgiving was just another day except we’d eat a large meal at the end of the day.

Thanksgiving took on a whole new meaning for me when I moved here a few years ago. My first few months in the city, I got by on the kindness of people whom I barely knew, people who opened their homes and their hearts to me—a lonely girl who knew no one in the city. This got me thinking about all that is important to me in my life. I started to truly appreciate what I had back at home—friends and family. However, I had started a new life in DC and I was beginning to see value in that too. I thought about how rare it is for me to tell people how much I love and appreciate them, even though I do, very much.

So I started my own Thanksgiving tradition. Every year, I think about what I’m thankful for and put it down on paper. And then I share my list.

• My family and friends being alive and well in 2007
• Being pneumonia free since the end of October!!!
• MY NEW JOB!!! DC’s got a new AIDS activist…
• Serena Rose, my 2-year-old niece who has the amazing ability to break my heart and make me smile at the same time
• Gary and Misha--my bicoastal hair team—for dealing with my hair’s multiple personalities this year.
• Coach and all of the Coach stuff I’ve received this year which I totally love.
• My dear, faithful blog peeps, without whom I probably wouldn’t be keeping a blog
• The blog for being the cheapest form of therapy ever…oh and for getting me on Slate and CNN.
• Ted (still my bartender) and the door man at Millie and Al's who always remember me
• The Dems taking control of Virginia! Woo Hoo!
• Law and Order: SVU marathons on USA network
• Annie and Smarticus for making me think and engaging me in debate
• Shama, Jeff, and Victoria—The Cool Kids—for keeping me sane at work and helping me gain a sense of perspective when I need it most.
• Josh, Shama and Roo Roos for providing excellent references for me. I couldn’t have gotten that job offer without you.
• Gwen Stefani for going on tour this year and putting on an awesome show.
• Bill and Beth, the most welcoming Hokies I know
• My mom and sis for putting on an awesome birthday party for me
• Kattie, my sweet and thoughtful soul sister (and the original DC drinking buddy) who took the time to come out to San Francisco so I wouldn’t be alone on my birthday (and ended up getting sick because I didn’t know I had pneumonia until after my birthday).
• My shrink for helping me understand me
  
• Shell, who recently graced me with her presence by coming to visit. I’m glad we’re starting a new drinking tradition although I’d love to play our Super Mario Brothers drinking game again some time.
• Project Runway for finally coming back!
• Aditi who always understands and listens and gives the best advice.
• Lisa, the only Bruin I associate with. I know we haven’t seen much of each other this year (and now you’re in Japan so we won’t see each other soon) but you’ll always have a special spot in my heart
• Jesse who still gives me butterflies every time he looks at me.
  

To everyone on the list and those who are in my heart but unnamed, I love you and appreciate you. You make my life wonderful and lucky and worthwhile. I hope that I have shown you the same love and kindness that you have shown me over the years. Even though I may not call you back right away or email you as often as I should, I want you to know that you are in my heart always.

Have a fabulous Thanksgiving!

my very cali birthday

My trip to California started with a stop in San Francisco. I had a great view from my hotel.

Here's a plane landing. It looks like it's landing on water.


Here's another view.


On Friday, I flew down to LA and spent the rest of my trip in the OC. My Saturday was spent babysitting my niece and watching college football.

I managed to do both in this picture.

That's the USC/Notre Dame game on TV. I taught Serena how to say, "Boo Irish!"

Speaking of USC, what was initially a joke turned out to be the real thing. My family threw me a very Trojan party.


This is the cake my sister made. Yes, she decorated it herself.


I started to feel like an 8 year old, what with all of the decorations and all. So, after dinner came the obligatory present opening. Here are some highlights.
A scarf from Aditi.

A necklace Lisa made for me.

A Coach make up bag from Aurelio.

And Jesse didn't make it out to California for me so he Fed Exed one of his gifts in time for my party...

Which was appropriately a USC visor and t-shirt, perfect for the Homecoming Game we're going to in two weeks.


Finally, my friends started making their ways home.



It was a great birthday. Can't wait for my DC birthday party tomorrow!

come out, come out where ever you are!

When I moved here, my first friends in DC were all gay men. The most welcoming of them are two guys that I affectionately called, The Boys. I met one of them at work. His name was Ryan. And we were both stuck at the Crap. The other Boy was Charles and he was Ryan's partner. They lived together in a cute basement apartment on the Hill. And when I finally found a place to live, I became their neighbor.

Words cannot express how grateful I was to The Boys for taking me under their fashionably designer wings. They showed me the ropes of living in the city, a place I would eventually begin to accept as my home. So when I had no place to go for my first Thanksgiving in DC, I was not surprised that Ryan was nice enough to invite me to spend the holiday with his family near Richmond. I accepted without hesitation. I had no doubt that I would feel comfortable with Ryan's family.

Late Thanksgiving Eve, on the drive down to Colonial Heights, Ryan decided to drop a bombshell. He said, "There's something I should tell you before we get to my mom's house. They don't know I'm gay." Whaaaa? I was confused. This guy wore designer clothing, even if that meant he couldn't pay rent that month. And he had been living with his partner for quite some time. So, I asked, "Why?" Ryan replied, "Well, they're not as accepting down here as they are in DC. And they think Charles is my roommate They might suspect, but they definitely don't know."

At that point, a light bulb went off in my head. "Does your family think that you're bringing home a friend or a girlfriend?" I asked. Ryan answered, "Ummm...I think I said 'friend'." Oh great.

We arrived at his mom's house and were greeted by his cousins--all female. They were incredibly pleasant. We walked into the house and I could smell all of the typical Thanksgiving aromas. I saw all of the food that was on the table and noticed (for the first time ever) that deviled eggs were part of the holiday food offerings. Interesting.

Eventually, I met Ryan's mom. She was a gentle woman, a cancer survivor. And she was incredibly happy to see me. She took a break from cooking just to talk to me and get to know me better. After a long chat in the kitchen, Ryan abandoned me and left me alone with his mom. Ryan's mom took me into another room in the house (a study of some sort) and pulled out a photo album. She began to show me pictures of Ryan as a little boy, pictures of his older sister, and her extended family. I heard tales of their family history. Ryan's mom really wanted to make me feel like part of the family.

I began to feel like a fraud. Like I was the family's last hope that Ryan wasn't gay.

Still, the decision to come out was not mine to make, but Ryan's.

The following year, Ryan's mother became incredibly ill. Her cancer had come back with a vengeance. She eventually passed. Ryan never had the heart to come out to her.

However, Ryan eventually came out to the rest of his family. They've accepted him and his partner with open arms.

Today is National Coming Out Day. Please do consider coming out to those you love and who love you back.

You might be surprised by their capacity to love you just as you are.

friday brain dump: separation anxiety edition

I dropped Jesse off at the airport today for his weekend trip to Phoenix. I’m feeling physically and emotionally ill right now. But here goes:

• While at the gym yesterday, I picked up the latest issue of Cosmo to read (I would never actually pay money for an issue). In it, they reported on a poll they did and (among other things) it revealed that 65% of guys have dreamed about their wedding day. Granted, Cosmo is not exactly THE source for trusted relationship research. However, I refuse to believe the majority of guys have dreamed about their wedding day. I’m sure Jesse hasn’t.

• Also in the same poll, 35% of women don’t always practice safe sex. What? Are you kidding me? Come on, people! Unless you’ve discovered a way to become personally immune to STIs, you can still get infected. And just because someone looks like they don’t have a disease doesn’t mean they really are clean.

• For the longest time in our relationship, I have always considered Jesse’s XBOX and his XBOX 360 to be the “other women.” I could be naked in front of him, calling him to bed while he’s playing and he’ll still tell me, “Another minute!” But we finally found something me, Jesse and XBOX can do together. The game is called Bioshock (and yes, it’s a single player game) but I just love watching him play it. Bioshock is like a really good science fiction, mystery book you can’t put down. If XBOX is invading your relationship with your man, give Bioshock a try.

• I miss Jesse so much already.

• Whenever I’m feeling lonely because Jesse has gone away on a trip, shopping makes me feel better. Just so you know, Banana Republic is having their big Fall sale right now.

• You all know how much I hate being alone. And I thought I would have to spend the day of my birthday alone while at a conference for work in San Francisco. Then my friend Kattie came to my rescue and will be flying up to SF to keep me company! Words cannot express how grateful I am that she is doing this for me. Luv her!

I’m outties, peeps. Have a wonderful weekend. This weather is supposed to be nice so if you spend it outdoors, be sure to use sunscreen! If anyone is at Crystal City Sports Pub on Saturday night, come visit me on the third floor. I’ll be watching the Trojans play Wazzu.

Fight on!

friday brain dump: incriminating evidence edition

Last Friday, I allegedly went to the Little Black Dress Party, hosted by local “meh” station HOT 99.5. The alleged intention was to catch a glimpse of Perez Hilton, who equally fascinates and repulses me. I’m fascinated by him because he has somehow become the type of celebrity that he constantly bashes on his site. He repulses me because he can be unnecessarily crude, like when he insinuated that Christie Brinkley’s daughter was too ugly to be a model. However, the guy always seems to get the scoop on what’s going on in Hollywood. And seeing as that I come from a place where the latest celebrity drama would be the leading story on the local news, I can’t help but seek out the latest gossip.

Also, I allegedly went to the party to possibly catch a glimpse of Nicole Richie. I’m having a hard time believing she’s pregnant. The girl was so skinny before her alleged pregnancy! Don’t you need a menstrual cycle to get preggers?

Anyways, I may have allegedly seen Perez, but I definitely didn’t see the Madden Brothers, who were performing an acoustic set (and the reason why I thought that Nicole Richie would be there since one of the Madden brothers allegedly impregnated her).

The pictures below may or may not have been taken at the site of the party.
Yes, I dragged my boyfriend. He handled it well.


Here I am being silly with my friend.


I can’t believe I just admitted to going to that party. Oh well, at least I had a great time with my friends.

Have a fabulous weekend all!

the stupid things girls do

A long, long time ago, in what feels like a previous life, I had a thing for a boy named Steve. And then he broke my heart. So what’s a college senior living in L.A. to do in order to get over said broken heart? Well, the girl gets her girls together and they go bar-hopping on Sunset Blvd, L.A.’s version of Adams Morgan. Nothing like a whole lot of alcohol to numb the pain.

Have you ever heard of an Adios, Mother F***er? It’s a bright blue drink that’s designed to get you really drunk in the shortest amount of time possible. I used to drink it all the time when I was in college and luckily stopped drinking it when I moved here. The first couple of times that I requested this drink at a bar in DC, the bartender would look at me with confusion and ask, “What’s that?” I guess the recipe hadn’t made it across the country yet. Anyways, the night I tried to get over Steve I had quite a few Adioses.

At some point in the evening, we went down to Saddle Ranch, a restaurant/bar on Sunset that has been shown on TV many times for its famous mechanical bull. In fact, if you are a Sex and the City fan, you’ll recall that in Season 3, Carrie and the girls escape NY for L.A. (in an episode titled Escape from New York) and Miranda rides the mechanical bull at Saddle Ranch and her button-up shirt pops open to expose her bra.

Yeah, so there I was with my friends, drinking on the patio trying to forget about Steve. My main concern was that this guy still wanted to be my friend. It wasn’t enough that he went back to his ex-girlfriend. This foolio still wanted me in his life too. I was confused because Steve's friendship consisted of some more-than-friendship behavior. So, as I drank away to gain some lucidity on the subject, my friends came up with a brilliant idea. They thought that I should do something truly daring, something that would show Steve that I was enjoying my life and didn’t need him to have some fun. My girl friends insisted that the best way to show Steve my new perspective on life was to ride the mechanical bull. In my drunken stupor, I said, “Sure, let’s do it.”

We left the patio and entered the bar where someone was riding the bull. After a few seconds of buckling and jostling on the bull, the rider was thrown off. He gingerly got up, clearly in some pain, and a new victim entered the ring. Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling so ballsy. “It’ll be so much fun, Liz,” my friends said. “You’ve got to do it. You’ve got to show Steve that you’re fine without him.” For some reason, this logic made sense to me. I downed my drink for a boost of liquid confidence. I went up to the counter to sign up to ride the bull. I was going to ride that bull and show Steve that I didn’t need him to have a good time!

When I told the lady behind the counter that I wanted to ride the bull, she gave me a sheet of paper that I needed to sign. I looked at it. The font was small and barely legible (and I didn’t need glasses to see back then). I scanned the form for anything I absolutely needed to know about riding the bull (I don’t’ know…like tips on how to stay on). I was able to make out the words, “not responsible for injuries…including paralysis…and death.” Hmmm…was I signing my life away? Did Saddle Ranch assume that I was sober enough to make such a decision? Granted, these questions were all afterthoughts. After all, this form was the only thing keeping me from my destiny of riding that bull and proving to the world that I didn’t need a man to have a good time. (Later in life, I realized that my vibrator could make this statement for me without having to risk my life).

Finally, it was my turn. I waved goodbye to my friends. They cheered loudly. I got on the bull and the guy who strapped me in (and by strapped in I mean, loosely put a band of leather—which may or may not have been attached to the saddle—around my waist) told me that I could only grip the saddle with one hand and then he gave me a tip. He said, “Relax, it’s just like sex.” Ummm…riding a bull is just like sex? Perhaps he assumed that I was into bestiality.

Suddenly the bull came alive. He buckled and jostled and felt nothing like sex. My legs held on as tight as I could and every second I was on the bull, I felt as though I was going to be thrown off. While listening to my friends cheering my name, I closed my eyes and my short life flashed before me. I thought, after all of this hard work, I will not be graduating college. I thought, I’ll never fall in love. I thought, I’ll never have a guy give me a real orgasm. I thought, I will never have kids (which at the time wasn’t a scary thought). And then it was over. I opened my eyes and realized two things—I was still on the bull and, as a result, I was in a great deal of pain.

I woke up the next morning incredibly sore. I went to the bathroom, pulled down my undies and freaked out. As a result of the previous night’s bull riding, I had bruised my lady bits. I had no idea I could bruise down there. The whole area was black and blue.

The following week, I went out to Sunset with my friends and Steve and I met a boy who kissed me right in front of Steve. Eventually, the bruises on my lady bits faded away and Steve became a distant memory.

Fortunately, I survived probably the stupidest thing I had ever done. However, I don’t regret it one bit.

why labels are pointless

I have often wondered about the need to label people. Is it human nature to group people in categories to better understand them? For example, I can be labeled as a Latina, Mexican, Chicana, Mexican American, Hispanic, etc. But none of those labels define me. I am much more than all of those labels suggest.

I didn’t realize this until this weekend, but I had given my hairstylist a label. I labeled him as gay. A lot of my friends can be labeled as such even though I know they are much more than just gay. However, Gary really tested me.

For as long as I’ve known Gary, he’s preferred the company of men. When he first started doing my hair, he was a hardcore party guy, going out every other day, meeting new people left and right. Gary was the life of the party everywhere he went and guys were attracted to him like moths to a flame. Obviously, he relished the attention.

Gary and I have known each other for over 4 years now and he’s grown up a lot in that time. He doesn’t go out nearly as often as before. He saves his money, although he does make the occasional extravagant Prada purchase. But he’s calmed down a lot both personally and romantically. He’s tried to stay away from unhealthy relationships and he is making better choices in his life. I’m proud of him for his turn-around.

I was sitting in his chair while he trimmed my hair this weekend. I had just finished updating him on what was going on in my life. Because I was over talking about my drama, I asked Gary to let me know what was up with him. He said, “I’m dating someone. Someone different.” I asked, “Really? How so?” Gary said, “Well, I’m seeing a girl.” My jaw dropped. Incredulous, I asked, “You are? Seriously?” Gary replied with a chuckle, “Yeah, I am. I’m growing up and looking to settle down. I’m not getting any younger.” Now would be a good time to tell you that Gary is my age. Still shocked, I asked him, “How?” What I really wanted to ask was “How is this possible?” Gary replied, “Well, I knew that she was into me. I’ve known her forever. And the other day, we took it to the next level.” Hmmm…I had trouble processing this information. How could a life-long gay man just flip a switch and not be gay?

After confirming that alcohol had nothing to do with this hook-up, I asked him, “How serious is this?” He answered, “We’re taking it one day at a time.” I still wasn’t getting it but I wanted to understand. So the 20 questions continued. “Ok,” I said, “What if another opportunity presented itself, one that was too good to pass up, would you take it regardless of whether the opportunity is a man or a woman?” Gary replied, “Yup, it doesn’t matter.”

Gary then proceeded to reiterate the sentiment that he is getting older and feels a need to settle down. He wants to get married some day and maybe have children. I started to get the impression that he was with this girl because of these societal pressures, both of which are not easily granted to gay men. Perhaps he wanted to take the easy way out.

Finally, I spoke my mind. I uttered the words that I had been thinking the whole time he was telling me his story. I said, “But you’re gay!” With a maturity that I clearly had not yet attained, Gary answered, “I’m not ‘gay.’ And I’m not ‘straight.’ Why can’t I just be me? I’m just being Gary.”

I sat in his chair and nodded my head. He was right. For some reason, I felt the need to put Gary in a box labeled ‘Gay.’ Gary has the right to be with whomever he wants to be with and I am certainly not in a place to judge. Besides, he’s my friend. I accept him as who he is, whether this is a phase or not.

After a moment of contemplative silence, Gary stopped and looked at me in the mirror intensely. Then he said, “Let’s hope this doesn’t affect the way I do your hair.” We both laughed heartily, dismissing the stereotype that all good stylists are gay.

Mine just is who he is.

how saturday became the best pre-anniversary/gay reunion EVER

Remember my bitchy post on Friday? The one where I whined and whined about how Jesse and I would need to share our pre-anniversary celebration with his friend’s birthday? Well, turns out Saturday ended up being all about us (and all of my favorite gays).

We met up with my boys Dave and Enzo for pre-parade food and drinks. We were in the mood for the margaritas so we dined at La Frontera on 17th on the patio. Unfortunately, we were not seated under an umbrella, so we were melting as quickly as the ice in our margarita pitchers. After lunner (lunch + dinner), we claimed a spot to watch the parade. Soon after, we were visited by my favorite party gay, Jason (the friend that brought Jesse and me together), and we settled down to watch the parade.

Jason, Jesse, and me…reminiscing on that fateful day 3 years ago


Mayor Fenty shows his love for the gays (random photog got in the way of my shot)


The be bar school bus seemed to be a popular hangout


The Freddie’s Beach Bar float was soaking the crowd.


Support from the PFLAG-ers makes my eyes teary every year


The Remington’s boys are always a crowd fave.


The Results Gym float celebrated the upcoming opening of their new location on Connecticut and L St.


How cute are the Zipcar peeps?


Speaking of cute peeps…here are Jason and Jesse…


And my boys, cuties Dave and Enzo


Finally, to wrap up my gay reunion, here I am with my boo, Rene, who finally got to meet Jesse


Three years later and we’re right back where we started…

AND he still gives me butterflies!

We didn’t quite make it to the birthday party (which had a little something to do with my tripping on the sidewalk and scraping up my leg pretty bad). Instead, Jesse and I went home and he bandaged me up and took care of me.

Even though I’m still in some pain because of that fall, it was still the most fun I’ve had at the Pride Parade since I met Jesse.

For the full set of pics from Pride, please check out my flickr page.

where did all my straight guy friends go?

I’ve always considered myself a guy’s kind of girl. Thanks to my love of sports, I have almost always had something in common with every straight guy I meet. It is usually this love of sports that leads to a friendship—hanging out at baseball games, debating the size of an umpire’s strike zone over drinks at a sports bar, taking bets over who will win the NBA finals, etc. Occasionally, it led to drunken groping and make outs after said ‘friendly’ outings. But when the next day shone a sobering light onto the situation, we assumed our friendly positions and all was right with the world again.

I even managed to give one of my exes a shot at being a friend. Normally, when a relationship ends, I want nothing to do with that boy and am perfectly fine never seeing him again. But for whatever reason, my most recent ex Jeff thought that, because I had been such a good friend during our relationship, he didn’t really want to lose that. By some miracle of God, we managed to stay friends.

However, my friendships with straight boys took a nose dive over something that happened to me almost three years ago—my relationship with Jesse.

The changes were subtle at first. During the first few months of my relationship with Jesse, I would talk to my guy friends over the phone and eventually the topic would change to our respective love lives. The guys would tell me about whom they were dating this time and I would tell them about Jesse. I assume that they thought Jesse and I wouldn’t last long. I wasn’t known for my long-term relationships back then.

Despite their assumptions, my relationship with Jesse blossomed and became so much more than I ever could’ve expected. This apparently was not a good development for my friendships with the straight guys. Somehow, overnight, the changes became obvious. Instead of going through some small talk before asking me about Jesse, they would get straight to the point. Conversations would start like this: “Hi, how are ya? So are you still with that guy?” Before I would wax poetic on what a great boyfriend Jesse is, the guy friends would say they had to get off the phone suddenly for reason X, Y, or Z. Apparently they had never heard of subtlety.

I am now down to two straight guy friends, neither of which I speak to with great regularity but when I do, I don’t mention Jesse unless they specifically ask (we don’t speak often because one is busy with med school and the other is busy with work). I also don’t volunteer any details about our relationship. I satisfy their curiosity with, “Yeah, things with Jesse are awesome and we couldn’t be happier” and follow up with an unrelated question to turn the attention back on them. I’m not sure why I’d rather keep any Jesse stories to myself other than the fact that I suspect that telling them may spell the end of our friendship (actually, I only suspect that of one of them as the other one will be my friend no matter what).

So how did I lose all of my straight guy friends? I’m not quite sure.

My best friend Lisa dated this guy that she had been friends with. Our first indication that he might have a thing for her came when he gave Lisa his theory on friendships between girls and guys. Essentially, he claimed that girls and guys couldn’t be friends. If they happened to be friends it was only because one of them had unrequited feelings for the other and had no choice but to be friends as they couldn’t have a relationship. When Lisa told me this, I spit out the Coke I had been drinking. Why? Because I had always believed that guys and girls can be friends for reasons other than unrequited love/interest.

Despite what I’ve always believed, I can’t help but wonder if Lisa’s ex is right. I don't think of myself highly enough to assume that my guy friends had a crush on me. But it seems incredibly odd that they all bailed after Jesse entered my life. Is that just a coincidence?

At least I still have my gays...

ugh…I’m never drinking again…until friday

Way back in the day, when I was a DC intern, I met and became very good friends with Kattie (who just so happens to be a loyal blog peep). Kattie and I spent that whole summer shopping and drinking (I think I’m still paying off that credit card debt). So when Kattie arrived on Friday for a visit, I knew exactly what we would be doing—shopping and drinking (in that order).

On Saturday, Kattie and I decided to pay our favorite bartender a visit. Ted (from Millie and Al’s) has been my fave bartender for awhile, but Kattie has decided to adopt him as her own. I may have mentioned this before in this blog, but when I was in grad school, my friends and I would go out to Adams Morgan every weekend and I got to know Ted really well during that period. I certainly don’t go out as often as I used to but Ted (and the Millie and Al’s doorman) still remembers me and never fails to treat me and my friends well.

Because we wanted Ted’s undivided attention for awhile, Kattie and I headed out to Adams Morgan pretty early. We were seated at the bar by 8:30, right in front of Ted. I figured that once the bar started getting really busy, Ted wouldn’t be as attentive. Lucky for us, I was wrong. Ted was still good to us, making sure our glasses were never empty. And whenever the giant Jell-o Shot Light Bulb went off, Ted gave us shots first. Needless to say, by midnight, Kattie and I were very, very (ahem) ‘happy’.

kattie and me looking happy as photographed by ted

By the time we had unintentionally garnered the attention of these older lawyer type guys, Kattie and I were ready to go. I asked Ted to close the tab and when I got it, I noticed that a number of drinks had been omitted (perhaps accidentally, but I know it wasn’t an accident). One of the lawyer types grabbed the credit card slip from me and said, “Oh let me get it for you guys.” I was in no condition to argue against the possibility of getting drunk for free, so the lawyer type called Ted over and said he would pay for it. Ted, being the considerate guy that he is, looked to me first to see if it was ok, and I shrugged my shoulders. The lawyer type gave him money and the tab was settled.

I then saw the lawyer type give Ted a tip. He tipped Ted 10% for our bill. I was pissed. Sure the lawyer type didn’t know that Ted had been good to us all night, but I didn’t think a 10% tip was acceptable. I grabbed a 20 from my wallet (which was almost 50% of our tab) and called Ted over. Trying not to slur my speech, I said, “In case I get hit by a Metrobus tomorrow and lord knows that is definitely possible considering all the people that have been hit by a bus lately, I want you to know that you are the best bartender in DC.” At this, Ted grinned very sheepishly (it was so cute). Kattie added, “I came all the way from California to see you.” As Ted was thanking us for the compliments we were showering him with, I discreetly slipped him a 20. I said, “That guy clearly didn’t tip you enough. Seriously, dude, you’re awesome. Thanks for everything.”

Right before we said goodbye, Kattie asked Ted where he would be Sunday night in case we wanted to go out. He gave us the details and we told him we’d see him tomorrow.

I’m not quite sure how we got home that night. I recall a guy escorting us through this park on our way to the Metro and then some weird guy on the Metro talking to us and then getting home and crashing. I was pretty useless on Sunday.

And unfortunately, we didn’t get to see Ted Sunday night. I don’t think I’ll be drinking again for awhile.

my name is OC girl and i'm a poker-aholic

It all started very innocently, during last year's super bowl. We were all bored and none of us were really all that interested in the game (we were far more interested in the drinking and the snacking). So someone suggested that we play Texas Hold 'Em poker. I didn't know how to play but Jesse suggested that I could learn quickly. We played for the fun of it (meaning there was no money involved) although I imagine it was more fun for others than it was for me because I was too nervous to make a move. However, as the game progressed, I got bolder and somehow I ended up winning. Beginner's luck, I guess.

I'm not quite sure at what point I became addicted but Jesse was definitely my enabler. We often played heads up just for the fun of it (still no money involved). And he even showed me some of the best poker sites on the 'net. We watch the World Poker Tour and Celebrity Poker Showdown whenever they're on TV (the Celebrity Showdown is definitely a favorite and hopefully Bravo will bring it back any day now).

My addiction to poker was held in check for the most part until one day, the worst thing happened. I found a Hold 'Em game for my cell phone and downloaded it. So now, whenever I wasn't at home playing online, I could play poker on my Metro rides to and from work. Pretty soon, I was playing poker on my phone all the time, even while out with friends. I even have a random bump coming out of my thumb because of all the time I've spent playing. Now my cell phone was my enabler.

I had shied away from playing with money because I'm not really the gambling type. Whenever I've been to Vegas, I've gambled simply because everyone I was with was gambling and I didn't want to feel left out. But it pained me to lose my money and come to terms with the fact that I would never see it again. The last time I went to Vegas I came out even and I considered that a big victory. However, I did show some restraint in Atlantic City, which I've only been to once (when you've been to Vegas already, Atlantic City is really no comparison). Jesse and I went there during the early stage of our relationship when all of our dates involved travel and a hotel stays. I really wasn't impressed with Atlantic City (for the exception of that helicopter tour Jesse and I took which was really romantic) but Jesse likes to gamble so I did what any girlfriend should do when her boyfriend is gambling--support him, cheer him on, and hope to be his good luck charm (and my body was showing signs of my addiction).

A few weeks ago, Dave and Enzo hosted a poker night at their place (my first stop on my 2007 poker tour). Enzo was eager to use his brand new, official looking poker chips. And I was interested in finding out how money would change my game. I was pretty nervous. After all, it had been so long since I had played with a group of people and now we were adding cash to the mix. Four hours of poker playing and beer drinking later, I came out in 2nd place and shared the pot with the 1st place winner--Dave, who definitely took advantage of his own beginner's luck. I realized two things that night. One, I love playing with people. It's so much more fun than playing online by yourself (or on your cell phone). And two, money doesn't change my game at all (but my heart does beat faster every time the blinds are raised).

This past Saturday, Jesse, Dave, Enzo and I were invited to a poker party (second stop on the tour). All in all, 15 people showed up to play so we did a tournament style game with two tables and two rounds of poker. The boys and I had a lot of fun. It was a little nerve wracking to be one of 3 girls there, but I had my boys to keep me company. The total number of players alone was enough to make me nervous. But in the end, I won second place at one of the tables and I won back all the money I had put in.

The next day I tried not to think about poker. It wasn't easy especially since Jesse found a new online poker site and started playing in tournaments (great, first it was the XBox and now it's poker). Me? I just can't wait until the next poker night (President's Day weekend).

And I'm itching to play and counting down the days...

Me and the gang at the first stop of my 2007 poker tour

Photo courtesy of Dave, who unfortunately isn't in the photo.

my first porn experience

Last week, I tried to jump on the bittorrent bandwagon and I downloaded some software to my computer. When I opened the application, I was shocked and appalled to see ads for porn along the left side of the window. In fact, it was disturbing (my Catholic guilt rearing its ugly head). I didn’t want to see ads for porn while downloading my music.

As I was downloading music with the software for the first time, I noticed that it was taking a very, very long time. And every time I opened the window to check out the progress, they were there. All those ads for porn. Women in underwear. Women touching themselves. Yuck. I decided then that I wanted off the bittorrent bandwagon.

My only other experience with porn occurred the year after I graduated USC. My old roommies and I decided get together for my birthday. So on a chilly October evening, we met up at E’s apartment in La Palma. E was one of our neighbors at USC and a boy we hung out with frequently (hang out with = drank a lot with). It was E’s idea to get drunk at his place and then go to Knott’s Scary Farm (it’s normally Knott’s Berry Farm, a random little amusement park in the OC, but it gets converted to ‘Scary’ during the month of October; also this is the ONLY time of year to go Knott’s). So, we proceeded to drink at his place and then we packed into this little car to head over to Buena Park. Right before we left, E’s cousin and roommate at the time showed up saying he was going to invite some of his buddies over to watch a movie since E was going to be out late. E was cool with that.

When we finally got to the front of the line (just to park!!!) at Knott’s, we discovered that the park was sold out and only people who had bought their tickets in advance could get in. Unfortunately, we hadn’t thought that far ahead. So, in my drunken state, I begged E to drive us to get some good drunk food and then head back to his place. After all, the booze was at E’s place, not Knott’s (clearly I wasn’t too disappointed about not going to Knott’s). Tiff, J, and E were cool with that.

Upon arriving at E’s place again, we noticed that E’s cousin’s friends had arrived…all 6 of them. Suddenly E’s two bedroom apartment seemed really small. I had one more drink and headed over to E’s bedroom to talk to Tiff privately. I have no idea what we talked about because I passed out in the middle of our conversation (I have an inkling that I was complaining about Jeff, the loser boyfriend who cheated).

I’m not sure just how long I was passed out in the bed. It must have been awhile because when I woke up, I wasn’t alone. Tiff and J (both females) had joined me and they were all sound asleep on E’s bed. I wanted to go back to sleep but I was overcome by the desire to drink some water. Quietly, I exited the room and headed over to the kitchen.

I very groggily entered the kitchen. I could hear E’s voice, asking me, “Hey, you ok?” I replied, “Water, please.” E said, “Let me get it for you.” As E was pouring some water for me, I noticed a strange noise—a moaning sound and it was definitely not coming from someone in pain. I turned to face where the moaning was coming from. As my eyes began to focus, I saw E’s cousin’s friends watching the movie he picked. And it was definitely no Hollywood blockbuster. It was porn. A guy and girl just going at it. And there were the boys, just sitting there drinking beer and eating popcorn like it was a normal action adventure flick. What the hell?

I’m sure the expression on my face said it all. I stood there for a bit, perplexed, and I furrowed my brows in confusion and walked back to the bedroom with my glass of water. I heard the sounds of muffled laughter as I closed the door. I immediately woke up Tiff and told her what I saw. Tiff’s reaction: “Really? That’s so lame.”

The next day, none of the guys explained themselves. E didn’t even say anything. E was never one to pass up the opportunity to make a joke and clearly this was a good opportunity. But he failed to make a humorous remark about the incident. They all probably thought that I was so drunk I’d forget about the whole thing the next day.

But it’s been 5 years since then and I’m still confused. Why did all those guys get together to watch porn? Were they looking for tips? Were they taking notes? Did they discuss the movie afterwards? The plot? Its highlights and low points?

I still don’t get it. It's still so lame.

scenes from the Cali Xmas Tour ‘06

Here are some pics to give you guys an idea of what Jesse and I did while we were in Cali.

On the Day after Xmas, Jesse and I went out to dinner with my friend Kattie, who looked fabulous as usual. We headed over to Downtown Disney in Anaslime and ate at the Jazz Kitchen. We gave it 6 thumbs up! Great food for a reasonable price. And the beignets were amazing.


The next day, Jesse and I explored Santa Barbara County. It was a first for the two of us. We took the scenic route through the Santa Ynez Valley which enabled us to take some great pictures at Lake Cachuma. For the record, it was very, very cold that day as wind gusts were expected to reach record speeds and rain clouds hugged the mountains.

This shot of the storm clouds over Lake Cachuma could practically be a post card!


So, the reason for the scenic route on such a chilly day? The wineries of the Santa Ynez Valley! Here I am looking very cold at Gainey Winery .


Did I mention that my mom and sis invited themselves along for this trip? Here is a picture of them looking pretty in pink in the Buttonwood Farms Wine Tasting room.


The following day, after getting my hair done by my colorist (red, red, RED!), Jesse and I met my boos Jered and Aurelio for dinner at Cheesecake Factor. I normally shun chain restaurants, but I hadn’t been to Cheesecake in forever. I’m glad Aurelio suggested it.


The following day, Jesse and I visited the Getty in LA. If you love art, then the Getty’s definitely for you. If not, you should still go to take in the views! Here is a view of the coast from the Getty.


Here is a view of LA from the Getty.


Here’s Jesse. The LA skyline is off in the distance and downtown Westwood is clearly visible on the right.


The Getty Institute, the Gardens at the Getty, and Brentwood


The following day, Jesse and I went to Laguna Beach for brunch. Laguna isn’t really about rich kids and what they do for fun. There’s a beach too (and actually Laguna is known for its art community).


Sana’s wedding was on our last night home and I just had to take a break from getting ready by playing with my niece, Serena Rose. Can you believe she just turned two?


Here’s Jesse and me, right before leaving for the wedding in a picture I call “our prom picture.”


It was such a great week that I was actually very sad to leave home. But it was especially hard to say good bye to Serena, who has finally stopped being shy around me!

how about we just pretend we were never friends?

Have you ever run into someone from your past and pretended not to know them? That happened to me this week while on the Metro. One morning, I was fortunate enough to get stuck on an Orange Line train that held at each station in Arlington for at least 2 minutes. While at Clarendon, J.W. came on my train car.

J.W. (name withheld to protect the jerk) and I became friends while in the same prerequisite public health class at GW. He had just moved here and didn't really know anyone. At the time, I had been in DC for a few months and totally understood where he was coming from. We became friends, drinking partners, and study buddies. J.W. seemed to have a lot of drama going on in his life for a boy--life aspirations, cancer, and a very needy girlfriend. They were doing the whole long distance thing, which was not good for her high-maintenance self.

Night after night (and day after day for that matter), I listened to J.W.'s problems. Often, I offered advice but most of the time, I just listened. I got the sense that J.W. didn't really have THAT kind of friend in his life--someone who would listen and not judge and just be there. I lost a lot of sleep just "being there" for him.

One day, I became the friend with the drama. It was right around the time of my birthday and I had the biggest family drama going on. It was also midterm time, which came with it's own stress-inducing abilities. I needed a friend. Badly. So, I turned to J.W. Suddenly, J.W. didn't have the time to deal with me. And he was definitely too busy to just listen. And during this incredibly stressful time in my life, I realized who my real friends were...and J.W. wasn't one of them. When he finally decided he had time to be my friend, it was a week later and other friends had helped me through the drama. I told him to take his "friendship" and stick it up where the sun don't shine. I rid myself of his toxicity.

So, two years later, we met again on the Metro. He got on and I immediately turned my back. I could see out of the corner of my eye that he had seen me. Moments later, I was brave enough to turn around. After all, I had matured some since then. Perhaps we could be civil with one another. Or not. He avoided my gaze. At Foggy Bottom, I passed by him on my way out of the train car, with my head held high.

I sincerely hope he's doing well (see? I have grown up!). And I really hope that he treats his friends the same way that they treat him.