Ms. A left yesterday after a 4 day whirlwind visit. I haven’t had that much fun in who knows how long. It’s amazing to be friends with someone I’ve known since I was seven. Someone who was in my girl scout troop. Someone who knew me before I had boobs. That is a long time. Ms. A come back to me! TBU took many pictures of our cleavage and the bruschetta Ms. A made at 230 Saturday morning. Those will be up as soon as I feel like dealing with USB cables. Friday night/Saturday morning was so out of control that Ms. A has a facial bruise and woke up the next morning asking, Did you punch me last night? No, I didn’t punch you, but the ground did. She also inexplicably stuffed my dirty clothes in her luggage and hid TBUs contact case, which we discovered the next day. It hurt, but we had to laugh.

I had so much fun I feel the need to chronicle our time together for my own records, feel free to skip ahead, or not read at all. You don’t need me to tell you that.

Saturday, after a substantial amount of recovery time Ms. A and I headed to San Francisco where she had an appointment to look at the culinary institute. Her appointment was at 3:15. We left Santa Cruz at 2:30. It takes at least an hour to get into San Francisco city limits, let alone a specific location. We showed up anyway and dealt with a bitchy security guard. Don’t ask me why a culinary institute needs two security guards and a log book, just don’t. The tour guy who booked the appointment acted like it wasn’t weird that we showed up over an hour late with no explanation or signs of remorse. We asked for water and he told us he had grease stains on his shirt. I know, weird. The SF culinary institute reeked of desperation. I love SF and I would love Ms. A to be in SF but this place isn’t producing any worthwhile graduates. The restaurant was cool and used to be a concert hall. The tour guy with grease stains told us he’d seen The Grateful Dead there <wink>many times<wink>. I don’t doubt it.

After the culinary institute tour with the grease stained tour guy and bitchy security guards Ms. A and I went over to the marina to see her ex-boyfriend. Of course this douche would live in the marina. Honestly though, I was having a good time with him because he’s fucking hilarious. But he is really loud and he did break up with Ms. A for a crackass reason in a crackass way. Why were we hanging out with him you ask? I dunno, Ms. A was on a let’s be friends trip. She has since come down and sees the error of her ways. One of the things she complained about in the bathroom was the fact that he’s so loud and yells everything he says. It’s funny because I do too and she loves my ass. Although, our whole friendship is peppered with her shushing me and reminding me of our location. I’m a loud ass motherfucker. The only people who have never shushed me are Sir Chinko and X. The day one of them shushes me is the day I believe I am too loud. Till then everyone just has to deal. But he was being really loud, which means something coming from me.

After the ex-boyfriend mess we made our way down to whatever adorable neighborhood X lives in. I’m gonna call it the mission, because that’s a real one and I’m pretty sure that’s what it is. Plus, it has an awesome panaderia. I think that makes it official. We pretty much hung out. We drank wine, ate homemade bread pudding and we to Jay n Bee for some beer. It was awesome. Awesome. It was made even more awesome because technically there are two people living in Xs apartment, her and her roommate. But Xs homeless boyfriend lives there and they have a friend indefinitely sleeping on their living room floor. Then me and Ms. A show up and it’s officially a party. Also, by coincidence, their next door neighbors are two girls me and Ms. A went to high school with. We left them a note to come party but they never showed up. Katie?! Kelli?! What about Baron Pride?

I knew we were spending the night but I pulled a TBU and packed like a fool. Three pairs of underwear. Check. Makeup bag. Check. Paper bag as luggage? Check. Necessary toiletries? Oops.

Sunday morning we woke up refreshed from our night on the floor and headed to Napa so Ms. A could check out that culinary school. We were supposed to meet Ms. A’s ex in the marina at 10am (hey, he offered to be DD). We didn’t get there until almost noon. This was due to several reasons. 1) I went to Walgreens for a toothbrush. 2) It was Mexican Independence Day so we patronized the panaderia. 3) The permanent house guest got in the shower before me (she knew we had to leave!) and 4) The shower head malfunctioned so badly that it soaked my clothes hanging across the bathroom. They were my only clothes, so there we were, blow drying my wardrobe like factory workers. We were so late that we finally just left with my pants still damp and me wearing a long shirt. I did a Britney, y’all. (You know, that thing where she wears shirts as dresses and shows her mommy parts to everyone) It worked out fine and Napa was beautiful. We tasted wines and had a great dinner. TBU met us up there and it was good.

TBU managed to score us some free VIP passes to this. So on the way back from Napa we casually strolled into the VIP area and watched the Modest Mouse set in great comfort. Then we left as casually as we came. That’s how you roll when you have VIP passes.

Monday, was more wine tasting. Bonny Doon Winery stopped serving framboise in chocolate cups because it’s not environmentally friendly. So Ms. A and I thought we could make chocolate cups ourselves. It’s harder than it looks. Our version required us to enjoy them over the sink. Still fun though. We went to Target and I bought the jacket I am wearing right now. It’s a faded turquoise corduroy in the style of a Members Only jacket circa 1984. Who knew Target would be so cool? I am going to populate my closet with cheap Target clothes. After Target we met TBU at Armida for more wine tasting and because we are members we get free tastings along with our guests. I love that place. Then we went out for sushi and it tasted especially good because I was wearing a new shirt and there was good company.

Ms. A left yesterday morning and I was sad that she wasn’t here when I came home from work. I love me some Ms. A. We had such a good time that after Saturday and Sunday our only goal for Monday was to eat three meals and drink some fucking water. I’m pretty sure we met our goals. That’s what adulthood is all about, setting and reaching attainable goals. Goals like sustaining life. We forget to do things like that because we’re too busy being obsessed with each other.

This has got to stop. I’ve got to go to bed.

PS Brittanie, yes.

[tags]The Marina, The Mission, 16 de Septiembre, San Francisco, Napa, Bonny Doon, Target, wine, wine tasting, can I call you my bitches?[/tags]

I spazzed out on myself and spent like, 3 hours reading my blog posts in reverse chronological order. Previous! Previous! Lately all my posts have a phrase that goes something like, so I’m pretty drunk right now. Which, is so unattractive. And I was like, Why am I at least 2 drinks in every time I write a post? And it made sense because I write when I have some extra time. And I drink when I have extra time. It’s not that drinking=post. It’s more like a scheduling conflict. I don’t drink that much. Just on the weekends, which I’ve extended to include Fridays. And occasionally on Tuesdays. Not normally on Thursdays but tonight I had a couple glasses of wine. Special occasion, I swear.

So not to be all Look at me! Look at me! but I got an iPhone and if it had an iCock I might iSuck it. Suhreallyously. I’ve resisted all Apple products for 24 years, until last Saturday when I just couldn’t take it anymore. I use it as an MP3 player with skills. I don’t think I’m supposed to talk about it but I’ll say I don’t have an AT&T contract or a sim card. If that makes no sense to you then you’re not a geek and good for you.

So, Ms. A is coming into town tomorrow and I am super uber excited. We’ll be in San Francisco on Saturday to get a little X time and mayhaps some Sir Chinko. Sir Chinko are you reading this? Call me. Hey if you’re in SF you should come hang out too. I need more friends. I want to do a monthly hang out with all 9 of my readers. That would be fun. It would be like Kevin Rose at Digg, but less ultra hip doucheyness. That guy thinks he’s so fucking hot and if he weren’t such a poseur he’d totally be my type. Viva skinny white guys with dark hair! What does he care though? He signs boobs all day. But Kevin Rose, you should know The Millionizer sees through you. If you wanna meet up though, we could keep it on the down low. You’ll be on the Brandon Flowers plan.

Alright now. The Millionizer has to study for her biology class. It’s true! The Millionizer is taking her pre-reqs for UCSF. Donations for grad school appreciated.

Many tits and ass, love.

[tags]Kevin Rose, Digg, iPhone, self-awareness[/tags]

You know how when you wake up in the morning and you’re perpendicular to the norm, or your arm’s asleep, or you’re in a pool of slimy spit, or your eyes are glued shut, or a host of other horrible scenarios? Those are signifiers of a bad day. I woke up this morning to the fear of those things. Just as I was bursting forth into consciousness the wind was sucked out of me and I was simultaneously afraid of being perpendicular and having wet my bed. The involuntary fear of physical signifiers has got to be more fucked up than the actual signifiers. That’s not a bad day, that’s like a sign of having mental health issues. Because really, they’re just signifiers, they only mean what you want them to mean. And the worst thing that happened today was having to admit that I kinda like what Urban Outfitters is trying to sell me. Gah, how have they so succinctly commodified the hipster identity? Hardcore research and analysis, that’s how.

[tags]Mental health, moratorio irak, iraq moratorium, Urban Outfitters, hipster identity, what’s hipster?[/tags]