Just a Quick Poll...

Several years back my mom's good friend Alice got remarried. I remember one day after I moved out, my mom was talking about how she was bored now with an empty house. I told her she should call Alice to hang out. She said that Alice can't hang out in the evenings or weekends because that's when her husband is home and "she can't just go out when her husband is home". Years later, this conversation still makes me stop dead in my tracks and say "What......?". I never liked the mentality that once someone gets married, they have to sit at their spouse's feet, run every decision by them, and never see the light of day again.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not against married couples doing lots of stuff together. In fact, it makes me drool in jealousy when husbands and wives want to include each other in their activities. But something about not having a life outside of each other and giving up social activities because "that's when her husband is home" just seems soooo archiac.

When I got married, I never really gave up hanging out with my friends. We still go out dancing... to pig out at afternoon tea... to window shop in stores we can't afford... to grab drinks at new bars... Is that a bad thing?

Since my mom reads this blog and knows I've been hanging out with my friends more often lately, she schooled me and said I shouldn't be going out. That's what reminded me of the conversation about Alice.

Maybe it's just a change in thought from my mom's generation to mine. After all, there is about a hundred years difference there. Maybe I'm just being unrealistic in what most marriages are like. What do you guys think...? I'd really like to know.

(At our wedding rehearsal. Keith is down to business, as per usual. I am hamming it up, as per usual.)
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Weekend Recap!

So, lately I've been kinda down in the dumps. Rawnie decided to come check on me yesterday to make sure I wasn't on the verge of suicide* (*cutting my hair and/or going on a diet) and we ended up making a day of it like old bestie times.

We ended up going to downtown Ventura so I could relive my youth in the thrift stores. After grabbing a torta and liquado at the always delicious Taqueria Vallarta (go with the Vallarta Special, TRUST.ME.ON.THIS), we headed to the Coalition Thrift Store. This is where we spent most of our day.

It's been a long time since I really enjoyed a good thrift storing session. I used to LIVE in these mothball/ homeless man/ Jean Nate scented huts when I was in high school and I really love finding old thrown-away nonsense and turning it into my own special, badass piece of magic.

I'm kind of torn on how I feel about yesterday's visit. I found LOTS of great items that I would have happily snatched up in my greedy little "Oh you're looking at something I'm holding...??? Well. Now I'm definitely buying it." paws. Except in the years since my last visit, apparently thrift store pricing has gone through the mutha fuggin roof and it is now totally appropriate to overprice these donated charitable items. Do NOT get me started on the part the hipster craze has played in all this unless you want me to spit hate all over this blog.

Anyway, here are some highlights from the Coalition...

A beautiful "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" petticoat that is ALWAYS good to have on hand because you never know when that pesky 80's party/ ballet recital/ square dancing competition is going to pop up. I had my eye on this... but not for $37.

Always great for starting your own Kenny Roger's Roasters chain. At $9.99, this was a total steal assuming it works. I would have bought this, but I already own a real oven, convection oven, and microwave oven. And we all know just how much I use all three of those.

Speaking of real oven, feast your eyes on this. This stove was pretty rad in all meanings of the word. The inside of the door even had cooking times for various meals. I don't know how practical this stove would really be, but I mean, seriously... Who even uses these things nowadays...? And for $500? C'mon...

A Betsy Johnson prom dress for only $39! Another great find for next year's winter formal, which, btw I'm totes already planning for.

Rawnie spotted this coat probably as a joke, but it ended up looking pretty fucking dreamy on me. The only downside were the fur cuffs- they were super heavy and stiff, which does seem pretty gross now that I'm thinking about it... Oh yeah, and the price was a bummer too. $50.

Another solid pimp coat choice. This one was saying "Lookin' good, FoxyBrown!" in the front. But was also simultaneously saying "Holy shit, Kool-Aid man, ease up on the bench presses!" in the back. My Joe Namath shoulders nearly sent the threads flying when I hulked out in this leather lovely. I'm pretty sure this one was in the $50 range as well.

This is where my dreams turned into nightmares. This bike was SCREAMING my name. It called to me from the parking lot, it begged me to take it home. It was like God wanted me to have this bike. Except God didn't let the coalition know and they assidentally wrote "$189" on its sticker. Piiiiiiiiiiiiiiss. I know this bike won't last more than 2 days at this store and I'm even debating whether or not I should have shared this discovery with the general public.

After sifting through the stinky goodness, I ended up going with two decorative plates and a new lampshade, both for my room.

From the thrift store, we made our way over to a cute little (again, overpriced) boutique shop. They had the stupidest, most assholey looking sunglasses in their doorway and, like moths to a flame, Rawnie and I were sucked in.

These are the glasses Rawnie wears when she wants to be taken seriously on the poker circuit. (Nobody has a chance against these badboys- I'm talking to you, Phil Helmuth.)

I look like Cheech and Chong's illegitimate lovechild.

Our day ended not long after this photo because my torta/ liquado combo kicked into high gear and I turned into Rob Zombie and needed a nap ASAP.

I will leave you with a pic of my nephew, Hogan, who I just hung out with today. He is happy in this picture because I let him get away with saying naughty things like "blood" and "fart" and "knuckle sandwich".

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You Like-a-de Parmasaaaaan?

Me too!

I took this picture of tonight's dinner avec mother. There were other items to the meal- Italian sausseeg and broccoli- but this mountain of parmasan is really where the money's at.

One day I'll figure out where my bad eating habits come from... for now, I'll just eat my dinner.

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I Stole This.

My friend Junks just posted this on her page and I was moved enough to steal it.

Watching this video made me think... I'm half Mexican, half Colombian*, my bebehs BETTER have moves like this or else I'm gonna be pissssssssed.

It also made me think... That baby needs a diaper change.

*Throw in half Ajin for good measure.
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I Got a Lot on My Plate

So here's a quick story from last night.

Our doorbell rang. There were two young guys. The convo went like this:

TILTE: "hi."
Guy: "hi- is your mom or dad home?"
TILTE: :::silence:::
(did I mention I'm thirty...?)

Aaaaaaaaaand CUT.

I got a lot on my plate and I'm having a shitty day, so you'll have to deal with music videos for the time being.

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Weekend Recap!

Friday night my good mate* Michael came up from San Diego. I made my world famous Nascar-crockpot-chicken-n-potatoes (Side note: I doubled the spices and Italian dressing- it was much better). Unfortunately, I got a liiiiiiiittle bit of a late start on it, so dinner was actually served at 10pm. (That's how I roll- take it or leave it.) We each had a margarita with our dinner and ended up wizzasted before we'd even put our dishes in the sink. This may have been a recipe for disaster until my two canine monsters went all Michael Vick on each other and totally killed our 'rita buzz.

Our first stop was The Roger Room in Hollywood. This was a recommendation from a dear friend who sold me on it by stating everyone in there reminded him of me. Well, if you know me at all, you know the way to my heart is by sending me to a room full of TILTE clones.

I'd seen a few reviews online that said it's a tricky place to find. It's located on La Cienega, between Melrose and Beverly. You'll know you've arrived when you see the giant neon palm reader hand illuminating the voodoo priestess shop next door. The location itself is a plain, black door with the number 370 over it. I had no idea what to expect from this place.

Upon entering, I saw that it was clearly an LA hotspot because this tiny British shoebox was jampacked. I also learned that my friend who recommended this place clearly thinks I'm a lot cooler than I really am because everyone in there looked like a hipster version of The Hills. Michael and I totally lucked out because we spotted two open stools at the bar and quickly staked our claim.

The ceilings in the RR seemed low and it's pretty dark inside- feels a little like you're in the cabin of a boat. The bartenders all wear old fashioned vests and ties and there's a lot of hustle-bustle noise. It definitely had a vibe like this. We both made the mistake of ordering our "usuals"- Amaretto Sour and Vodka Tonic- before looking at the drink menu. BAD MOVE. From what I could see (the lights are very dim), they have lots of interesting specialties. One girl next to us got a drink that was topped with cucumber eggwhite foam. And the first drink on the menu was called The Pash (English slang- The Kiss). Aaaaaand, they even serve Pimms Cup!!!! If you've never had Pimm's Cup, the recipe consists of Pimms No.1, lemon-lime soda, a slice of orange, a slice of cucumber, and some mint. It's the official drink of Wimbeldon, and if it's good enough for Bjorn Borg, it's good enough for me.

I didn't try Michael's drink, so I can only speak for myself when I say THE.AMARETTO.SOUR.WAS.NOT.GOOD. It was waaaaay too sweet and tasted like I was drinking Tootsie Roll juice. But they did put a cool mixer in my drink that looked ezzactly like a dental mirror.
Like I said before, big mistake not going with one of their signature items. And the drinks were on the pricey side- $21 for two drinks. Now here's the question... Would I go back again...?

Yes because if anyone wants to be a hipster version of The Hills, it's me.

From there, we headed over to my faaaaaav place, Beauty Bar (if you click on that link, I suggest turning your volume down- for some reason their music is always blasting). According to their calendar, we were there for "DJ Evil One, spinning rock, pop, disco, hip hop, electro and classics". Whatever it was, it was all over the place. It wasn't their best night, but it definitely wasn't their worst. Worth Noting: Take cash unless you plan on having multiple drinks. The drinks are cheap and the credit card minimum is $15.

I love this pic because it looks like we're at some cheapo club in Mexico. Wrong. We're at some cheapo club in Hollywood.

I don't know who this girl is, but I told her to smile and she did. Two thumbs up in my book.

That guy making the face was starting to brawl with some other dude- he was yelling "YOUR GIRL HAS BIGGER BALLS THAN YOU!" Apparently, I thought that was especially funny.

Michael at his finest: Hanging out near the grilled weenies.

Saturday, we made breakfast. This was my first time making turkey bacon and I decided to go with Butterball brand. I've recently discovered I love turkey bacon- love the taste and the fact that my chin doesn't instantly erupt into 500 zits like it does with regular bacon. Anyway, we pretty much annihilated it in the frying pan, turning into a volcanic magma strip of coal. I ended up giving it a go again on Sunday morning and it came out muuuuuch better.

We spent the day doing vigorous laps in the pool. And by vigorous laps, I mean we beached ourselves on the steps and never moved.

Michael's glorious entry:

My glorious entry:

All in all, another great weekend.

*Michael, I only referred to you as "my good mate" for the purposes of this blog. In reality, I still hate you and hope you choke on your bean burrito.

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Ponchos Restaurant

I'll admit, I've kinda strayed from the food part of this blog. To make it up to you, this post will be about food and only food.

Yesterday for lunch, I was feeling like a liquado, aka Mexican smoothie time. I'd recently discovered an old menu for a Mexican restaurant that had been left on the doorstep a while back. I knew exactly where it was located- right in between a run down muffler shop and the corner where all the day laborers shoot the shit. This place wins on location alone.

I studied the menu thoroughly before I left the house in order to eliminate stupid gringa time at the ordering counter. When I pulled up to the restaurant, I realized there were only two parking spots for this place. ::::sads:::. Lucky for me, only one other car was there. :::not sads!:::

I went in and ordered a mango smoothie (faaaaav) from the young girl at the counter. She went to the back to check the stocked fruit, then proceeded to break my heart by telling me they only had strawberry and banana left. Ughhhhhhh. I went with a strawnana combo, despite my eyeballs making a love connection with the bubbling horchata machine. I ended up ordering a sope, which I've never had before (Totally wierd, I know.) and a chicken soft taco. The whole meal came to around $8. The poor counter girl forgot to charge me the first time around for my smoothie, so she had to ring it up seperately. Then she got all frazzled and gave me too little change. When I pointed it out, she looked flustered and then gave me twice as much change. Bless. I corrected her math- which, by the way never happens- and waited in a booth for my food.

I couldn't wait to get home to try my precious liquado. :::taste::: Um.... :::another taste::: Ummm... not so good. Maybe it's because it wasn't my usual M.O. (mango delight), but it just wasn't my kind of smoothie. It tasted like strawberry, banana, and milk only. -Like it was missing that secret, special, magical, Mexican ingredient that's usually in these badboys. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't horrible, just nothing to write home about.

When I got to my house, I felt like it was Christmas morning. Was this going to be a fucking badass bowling set (Yes, Chris, I still remember bowling down the living room floor) or something lame like a math coloring book??? First to be opened, the sope. Okay, for anyone who doesn't know what this is (ahem, me), the counter girl described it as a fried tortilla topped with beans, your choice of meat, lettuce, tomato, and sour cream. Soooo, what's the diff between that a tostada? I'll tell you what the difference is. This tortilla is thick- I mean, like as I was eating it, I thought it was an Eggo waffle. And it's not actually a tortilla at all. It's made from cornmeal, so it's closer to a gordita. Aside from not really knowing what it was that I'd ordered, the quality, flavor, and size was great! It was perfectly seasoned, no grizzly bits in the meat, and the lettuce/ tomato looked bright and fresh.

Next, onto the chicken taco. The chicken was shredded and topped with a little bit of Jack cheese (could have used more) and shredded lettuce, and the whole thing was resting on a corn tortilla. It had a very mild flavor, a bit light for me, which is why I think it needed more cheese (as most things do). But for anyone with a devil's spawn gut (I'm talking to you, stomach), this is a great order because it's plain and mild and will fill you up.

So overall, I think this was a positive experience with Senor Poncho. I would order both of these items again, I would be willing to try other items on the menu, and I miiiiight even consider trying the mango smoothie.


So, some of you may remember back in April I met up with Chrystal and Danielle for a drink at Profile. Well, it looks like I may have been some good luck for this little diamond in the rough because the other day I happened to drive past it and guess what! It was a totally different restaurant! That's right, my review was the kiss of death for this place! Wow, I knew I had some pull in the industry, but this is just ridiculous. I was driving too fast to see the name of the new place (I only had enough time to do a quadruple-take), but I'm 100% sure it's no longer being known as Profile.

Ok, remember that one time I said this was going to be about food and only food? Well, that was a little stretching of the truth. I have one quick little nonsense for you.

While stopped at a light the other day, I spotted this angel sent from above.

(Click to enlarge)

That's right. He has a book with a giant, white cross on it and is waving it directly.at.me. He must have heard about my Profile review.

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Time for a Weekend Recap!

Saturday night I had plans to meet up with Kim and Melody, for a totally caj dinner at Dargan's.

Kim and I split the fish and ships because they are The.Bomb and they come in huge portions. If you're in the Santa Barbara/ Ventura area, I strongly suggest ordering them here. The deep-fryness is superb and not heavy or greasy. It's seriously my faaav thing to order here, although I did try a bite of Mel's corned beef and cabbage and have since added it to my To-Do list.

(The pic is kind of dark because the lighting in there is on the dim side. -Which, coincidentally, is usually the best lighting for my face.)

Highlight from Dargans:

(Melody pretending to pose for a pic when I'm really trying to get a shot of that awful dress.)

After dinner, we walked through downtown.

(Waive ya hands in the ai'a, if you's a B-of-A playa)

(Melody and I are models on our spare time.)

The night was young and we felt like cutting le rug, so we ended up at Candlelight. (Ok, after looking at that site I feel a little embarrassed to say I went there...) Melody spotted a friend who was there with a private party, so they totally got us in FOR FREE. (Yeah right, she probably follows my blog and got us in because I'm a total celeb.)

So the last time I was at Candlelight, I didn't get a true representation of the place because we went for dinner, we were outside, and the inside was booked for a wedding. This time I got to see what it was all about. They had like 3-4 different DJs (none of whom were spinning 80's or Indie, so it loses a point for that) and the place was PACKED. Kim and I wormed our way next to this one DJ who looked like a sweatband-wearing, whiteboy version of one of the Gotti kids. He was playing a remix of Rod Stewart's "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy" and Kim and I proceeded to go apeshit because that is the best song ever- FACT. At that point I could see our tween DJ giving himself a mental high-five.

This is on my short list of songs titled "Songs That Should Play Everytime I Enter a Room", along with Benny Benassi's Satisfaction.)

One White Russian, a Strongbow, an Apple Martini and a Vodka Cranberry later, we ended the night at Jimmy's Slice for dinner #2. Now, for those of you in the Ventura area who have already discovered this gem, WHY HAVE YOU NOT TOLD ME ABOUT IT SOONER??? It may possibly be the residual alcohol talking, but this was the BEST slice of pizza I've ever had. I.AM.NOT.LYING.FRIENDS. I've been thinking about it's dusty, pillowy crust nonstop since Saturday night and I'm already wondering when I can get my mits on another slice.

The whole night ended up costing me a whopping $24. You are impressed, I know this.

Sunday, Danielle and I had plans to save the world one cookie at a time, by attending No Cookie Left Behind. But, because funds were low, we were starving, and the last sale mostly consisted of Vegan baked goods (only the Earl Grey cookies were worth my donation), we decided to go porkout on some hot dogs at The Greasy Wiener truck instead.

Danielle went whole hog with her wiener, topping it with bacon, mustard, relish, sauerkraut, onions, diamonds and pearls. Since this was my first time, and because I'm on a diet, I played it safe with bacon and cheese.

Ok, so here's my eval of The Greasy Wiener. At first, it was DEELISHUS. I devoured the first 1/4 of it. But once my blood sugars started going back to non-hangover status I realized it wasn't really that great. The bun was good quality, nice and soft. The fries were really, really good- they top them with salt and pepper. But the wienies themselves were the kind that have kind of a hard, chewy casing. I.Don't.Like.Those. That truck would have gotten big thumbs up from me if they were serving Hebrew Nationals. Anything else just won't do. Also, the cheese sauce was starting to cool and dry over and it was kinda grossing me out.

I feel bad saying such unpleasant words about my Greasy Wiener experience because the owner is actually a REALLY nice guy who even came out to talk to us. (Greasy Wiener guy, if you're reading this- switch to Hebrew Nationals and I will re-evaluate!!!)

After the wienerfest, we headed across town to Lark for cupcakes. Somewhere along the way, we saw young Sean Penn circa 1982 riding his skateboard along side our car and our conversation went a little like this:

Danielle: I like his style.

TILTE: Yeah, he's hot.

Danielle: Oh, he has a "No on Prop 8" tattoo on his face. He's not our type.

TILTE: Wait. I thought No on Prop 8 is what we wanted... I'm confused.

Danielle: No, I mean I think he's not our type... He's not what you want.

TILTE: I want him to give me a massage........ I don't know what you've been talking about.

On the way there, I snapped these babies:

Want to speak American??? Call this guy!

Welcome to the land of milk and crazy.

Finally, we made it to Lark. Danielle and I each ordered one of the Berry Shortcakes, and I got a plain vanilla for Keith (which is STILL sitting in the fridge...) If you're in the LA area, it's definitely worth your while to stop by- only $2.50 for the lightest, fluffiest cupcake you will ever meet.

Also, I love their little seating area because it has the furniture of my dreamz.

(Turquoise velvet sofa, mustard yellow footstool...) :::drool::: You can't really tell from the photo, but the wall decor is actually flattened out cupcake liners and tiny paper doilies that have a big, round, orange pushpin in the middle of each one. It's sooo cute. (One day, cute decor... one day...)

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God Save the Queen.

Is everyone ready for the big match this weekend...?

(Note: Keith nearly spat in my face when I made the mistake of mentioning hanging the United Kingdom flag)


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I Practically DIED Last Night.

I've had this shit awful sinus headache or migraine or brain worm for the past four days and last night it almost killed me. For serious, friends. I was reduced to TEEEEARS, it was so bad. To make matters worse, I have a lying bastard of a thermometer who lied to my face and said my temperature was 98.5 when it was clearly at least 126.

I was also sick to my stomach, which I assumed was from my brain worm.

At first, my stomach was just a little upset. And then all of a sudden it started to RAAAAAGE. And I don't mean like when I say I'm gonna "rage" because we all know that just means "take a nap". My stomach was burning and churning and bubbling and was all kinds of hellish barfy. I was miserable. After about an hour of fighting with this ruler of the dead and lord of the nether world, it dawned on me... Earlier in the day, I had started taking these new supplements. Supplements that had been advised by three different people (no, not doctors, just good friends, ok???) for problematic stomachs. Supplements that go by the deceiving name "Probiotics: The Good Bacteria." Now, I'm not doubting the validity of these little pills. In fact, I'm sticking with my new regimen after speaking with my local nurse practitioner (Dr. Internetz) and learning that probiotics can sometimes be harsh at first because they are cleaning out all the evil, no-good intestinal squatters. My advice to anyone who's thinking of trying probiotics: Do it. Just be prepared for a nasty, glowstick-waiving, middle-of-the-desert rave in your stomach, followed by asshole explosions.

Anyway, the combination of my two ailments totally wiped me out and I ended up sleeping in until 11am. When I finally peeled my eyelids back, I was greeted with this:

Kosmo making himself all cuddly wuddly in my arms. He haaaaaams it up when I stay home from work.

I felt much better this morning, but I was still on alert because this stupid MFing brain worm is tricky, you see. He's also a late sleepr and usually kicks in around 3pm. To ensure this little bastard had packed up his wormy bags, I made an appointment with a chiropractor. (I hadn't been sleeping very well and was waking up with Christopher Reeves neck).

Chrystal had told me before that her chiro includes a massage with every adjustment. Hm... Is this creepy or delightful? Since I can't afford a real massage AND adjustment, and since Chrystal is generally a trustworthy source, I decided to give him a shot. He ended up being totally legit and had a female massage therapist who gave me like a 20 min rubdown before the actual doc came in for the crackalackin. I was very happy with his services ($45 for initial visit, $35 every other) and am currently raising the roof for Dr. Thomas at Dumetz Chiropractic.

Also, his office is located conveniently right across the street from a great little Italian market that has deelishus desserts.

Giant.Lemon.Tart. I couldn't resist.

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The Pool is Officially Open

(This is Justin's splash and totally not mine. Despite taking years of summer swim lessons, I never learned how to dive because it scares the diarrhea out of me.)

This weekend, we kicked off the beginning of summer by inviting a few friends over to enjoy the finer things in life (swimming pool and Rock Band).

Despite it seeming like it was 1,000 degrees, it was actually just perfect for taking a dip.

Biscuit and Kosmo made a special guest appearance, Kanye West style, when jBusch accidentally let them out of the laundry room. They cleaned up all the dropped Ruffles and were quickly escorted back to the house.

My eyeballs got sunburnt.

Keith barbequed burgers and hot dogs and I made my party staples, onion dip and margaritas. We also served Peroni* because Justin is Italian and we like to make our guests feel at home.

Melissa brought cupcakes from SusieCakes. I had half of a coconut one and it was gooood. The frosting was heavy and sugary and instantly gave me cavities on teeth #28 and #29. (I worked in a dental office for 2.5 years. Don't test my teeth numbering skillz.)

We downloaded new songs for Rock Band and I was extra pumped to get my rage on. I strongly suggest downloading:

Electric Six - Gay Bar (This is not the actual video. Instead, I linked you to Joel Veitch's viking kitty/ angel puppy version. SoKute!)

X - Los Angeles (Let's get down to rock bizniz, here.)

Hot Hot Heat - Bandages (This song always reminds me of the summer I spent at Hueneme Beach with Kim. We were so young... and cute... and tan... and in shape...) On a non-related note, the lead singer of Hot Hot Heat is so ugly he makes my eyeballs jump out of my skull and run in front of a speeding car.)

White Stripes - Fell in Love with a Girl (This song always makes me want to RAAAAAAAGE. While maintaining my cuteness, of course.)

Justin and Nate ripping some vocals (Nate is doing his best Alfred Hitchcock impression).

Keith on drumz. NOT.Confident.


If anyone is considering starting up a band, I'm totally ready. I have luggage and I'm willing to tour. Just let me know the dates, so I can put in a request at work.

*Not to be confused with Pup-peroni

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