Buenos noches, adoring fans.
Sorry I’ve been neglecting you lately. If you feel personally affected by my disappearance, find me in person and I will give you a level 3 hug. If you’re unfamiliar with the hug scale (I don’t know why it confuses everyone if they seem to understand the Richter scale or Scoville scale), then it breaks down as follows:
Level 1: awkward 1-armed hug
Level 2: goodbye hug I give to someone I’ll probably see later on in the day, or (at most) the next day
Level 3: genuine “I haven’t see you in years, I barely recognize you with that beer belly and mom arms” hug
Level 4: my pants were on fire and you ran 5 miles to retrieve a fire hose in order to put it out
Level 5: strictly reserved for Tom Brady and Tom Felton… yes, this is that special “adult hug” that your parents awkwardly told you about in middle school.
So if you think about it, a level 3 hug is a pretty good bargain in this situation, considering you don’t actually have to gain a beer belly or mom arms in order to receive one. But before you all start hunting me down like a prized deer in the middle of a famine, please give me a few moments to explain to you why I’ve been so negligent.
You see, I blame it all on my dear friend Christina Ly. Please send hate mail to http://www.itschristinaly.com/ because after all, it’s all her fault. Let me elaborate:
First of all, we make plans to go to SF and she shows up at my house with two dozen donuts. WHO DOES THAT?! Not to sound ungrateful, because I’m not, but there goes every ounce of productivity I had for the rest of the week. You know how on TV (or maybe in real life, but not MY real life), when a couple finds themselves alone in a room with a desk, sometimes they’ll swiftly sweep everything off of the desk with their arm in preparation from some awkwardly passionate lovemaking… on a desk?! Okay, well in my mind, I swept my calendar clear of all the paperwork, cups of pencils/paperclips, and desk snacks in order to make room for some passionate donut-eating. Okay, that sounds a little weird now that I’ve said it aloud, but you know what? I don’t care. Sometimes it does get a little awkward how much I love donuts. Especially if they’ve got sprinkles on them.
Okay, new hypothetical scenario. You know how TV shows have people dreaming about rolling in piles of cash? Made famous by Indecent Proposal? I’d do that to the box of donuts. Much less awkward, right? Ok cool. Thanks Demi Moore for helping me out of that pickle.
So back to the story… Christina had the balls to bring me a million donuts. But we leave them at my house and head to San Francisco where she has a job interview and a coffee meeting with a potential employer. We grab lunch at this Mayan restaurant where no one seemed to speak any English and there was a 50 year old man walking around with just a guitar and his mariachi voice. It was AMAZING. So good, in fact, that my body somehow pulsed with such excitement that it caused my phone to overdose on electrical impulses and die. Usually I’d be heartbroken that my phone is dead, because 1) I had a bunch of witty tweets I wanted to send out and 2) I wanted to be one of the first ones to check into this rare gem of a restaurant, but my heart is so elated from the culinary orgasm that I forget to smash my phone against the wall and instead pretend I’m Anthony Bourdain.
We continue trekking around SF to meet up with my brother (you can find him at http://www.dinhternet.com/) who has invited us to a mussels cooking competition. In case I haven’t revealed this to you before, my absolute favorite dish in the world (besides my mom’s Bun Bo Hue) is moules et frites. It’s just mussels and fries. I had it for the very first time in this tiny little shack in Paris when I was 14, and from then on my dad used to cook it for me every year for my birthday. Nowadays, my boyfriend has taken over that tradition since my parents have moved back to Minnesota. I don’t care who makes it, I freakin’ love it. So you can imagine how excited I was to eat a bunch of different styles at this event!
We get there and as you can imagine, my panties immediately dropped. That’s a real figure of speech, right? I hear it a lot on TV, so I hope I’m using it right. Everything was delicious. I went back for seconds, then thirds, then camped in front of tables as the chefs coolly prepared the mussels on the other side and started asking me a bunch of questions like “haven’t you already been here 5 times?” and “jeez, aren’t you full yet?” I’d like to think it’s just because I have a memorable face.
Anyways, it then struck me that I should probably write a post about the panties-dropping mussels and include some pictures, but as luck would have it, my phone had previously died earlier that day and I was too distracted by Christina’s g’damn donuts to grab my DSLR, so I had to ask her to take photos for me on her phone. A week of nagging later, she still hasn’t been able to send the photos to me (probably too busy baking me more donuts) so today, I decided enough was enough, and I went to stalk the chefs from the event on twitter for photographic proof. I tried to choose the ones that capture the atmosphere of the event: even though it was at a relatively upscale French restaurant, there was a lot of fun and excitement in the air. The chefs were all young and very unique and even moreso talented, and the hilarious MC didn’t hurt, either. Anyways, here are the photos!
(I hope @chefJenish from The Grand Cafe doesn’t mind if I stole them…)
So yes, that is why it has taken me so long to update this blog. Sorry it took me 1047 words to get to this point, the real beginning of the entry.
To sum up the night: I persuaded Christina to go from hating mussels to loving mussels. I also got to witness a 7o-year-old lady drunkenly tell my brother that he and “his wife” (aka ME) that we’re a beautiful couple. For the record, I did clarify the situation and immediately explained that we were siblings, at which point she started grinning and telling me I have a super sexy brother. AAAAAAAWKWARD.
But for the record, my brother IS quite adorable, as you can see for yourself:
AND HE’S SINGLE! SO HOLLA AT ME, LADIES.
Anyways, onto the second half of the reason as to why I have been MIA, I’ve been in a weight loss competition with my family for about 6 months now and just recently got a little more serious about weight lifting. I hate cardio, so I pretty much lift whenever I work out. Since the other contestants have gotten much more serious about the competition, I’ve also tried to step up my game, and now I find myself doing the same things in my spare time:
- flexing and checking myself out in the mirror
- mixing protein powder with my blender ball
- telling my roommate we’re going to get super ripped while laying on the couch and then putting off going the gym until midnight
- mentally eating lots of healthy snacks but in real life eating donuts
- wishing I had Kerri Walsh’s body
So, as you can see, there’s been very little time leftover for these entries. It takes a lot of time to summon this much wit!
Some days, I get tempted to scarf down an entire pizza and then not be able to write because there’s pizza sauce all over my keyboard, but somehow I find the strength to refrain myself from doing so. It helps a lot that my brother sends out emails every morning, trying to keep us all motivated, whether it be a question about what positive thing we did that week, or a youtube clip from a motivational speaker… my favorites are always the photos, though (mostly because I tend to read them when I first open my eyes and my brain isn’t fully capable of comprehending words quite yet), so I thought I’d share a few with you today, in case you’re also in need of some motivation.
Sometimes they’re pictures of ridiculously muscular people (muscular to the point where you wonder how small his junk must be after all that steroid use)
Sometimes they make me ridiculously envious
But most of the time, they make me laugh
I hope this excessively long post makes up for the fact that I was gone for so long.
Just blame it on the mussels/muscles.
(See what I did there?)