April 15, 2012

15 Apr

Well I’m not going to lie — it’s been really hard to blog while I’ve been out here in SF. There’s plenty to blog about, but my social life is just SO HOPPIN’ out here that I barely have time to write about it — that is the irony. No really though, I have never been so active in my life. I knew SF was going to do this to me…… I don’t feel quite like my lazy ass self out here — I am actually doing stuff after work that doesn’t always involve happy hour (but that does usually involve drinking), I am meeting new people on a weekly basis (unheard of), I am going to events left and right (what), and the worst part of it all — I am waking up at 9am on the weekends on my own free will.

(………………………………………….. no words)

What has my world come to. In contrast, in NYC a few years ago, I once got so lazy and was sleeping through so much of my free time that I went to see my doctor to see if I had a mild form of narcolepsy or perhaps a thyroid disorder that was making me so fatigued all the time. The results came back perfectly fine, there was absolutely nothing wrong with me, and I couldn’t have been healthier — which led the doctor to conclude that I was simply a really lazy human being.

Anyway, that was a really long-winded way of explaining why my blog has come to a halt. It is BACK with Easter, when I went to LA with K&D and had a ridiculous time last weekend.

Of course as soon as we make our way into LA, the first thing we go desperately in search of is some really good Mexican food. As amazing as SF food is, they come nowhere close when it comes to Mexican. Between K and I, we’ve lived in LA, NYC, Texas and Mexico City — so we’re pretty confident we know good Mexican when we’ve had it. Anyone who thinks Mexican in the Mission beats any of that is just plain wrong. K/D and I went to La Golondrina, where we had homemade guac, some of the best margaritas on the rocks I’ve ever had, and really good mole:

La Golondrina Mole

With a really full stomach and some serious diarrhea brewing in all of us (totally worth it), we clenched our ass cheeks and continued on our way to the OC, where D’s friends were throwing a BBQ, otherwise known as a rager. While the BBQ hot dogs and burgers were really good, what I got super excited about was seeing bottles and bottles of two liquors that I recently became very fond of — Jack Honey and Red Stag by Jim Beam. While some of us played beer pong, others chugged Jack Honey on the rocks and concocted new shots like Red Sprite (clearly meant to sound like Red Stripe, but is actually Red Stag with a tiny splash of Sprite). While one girl tried to fool herself into thinking she could actually beat the N brothers at beer pong, others like myself yelled sexist comments in my drunken stupor like- you girls need to just stop being feminist and accept the fact that you’re all awful at beer pong, and at driving, and pretty much everything in life.

I’m half jk. I don’t really think that, obviously not, because I did beat a guy on this night at some 1:1 three-cup flip cup, although he may or may not have been ambiguously gay, so maybe that doesn’t count. Nevertheless, I did come to my senses after 2008 that my beer pong skills have deteriorated exponentially, which I partially blame on my early-onset Parkinson’s that causes my wrist to violently shake when I’m about to release the ping pong ball.

None of us are really sure how late we stayed out drinking on Easter eve, but all I know is that at one point I did have a brief panic attack over what a mess I would be the next day at Easter supper with D’s entire extended family. Luckily, in the middle of the night, I sleep walked into the bathroom, projectile vomited all of the hot dogs, burgers and cole slaw that I had eaten that day (cleanly into the toilet, of course — I never miss), which was all tinted pink from all the Red Stag I had consumed. Flushed once. Nope, here I go again. Projectile vomited a second time, flushed, vomited a third time, flushed, and then a fourth time. It was the most food I had ever thrown up in my life. As my poverexia has gotten better over time, my alcoholimia/drunkolimia just keeps getting worse and worse. It seems I unintentionally suffer from a variety of eating disorders, none of which are actually related to my wanting to lose weight.

The good news is, the next morning I woke up feeling like a million bucks. I ate the leftover burgers from the BBQ for breakfast before we headed to D’s mom’s house in Anaheim for Easter brunch and supper. When we get there, it was like Thanksgiving. It was the most food I had ever seen on a single table in years.

Easter

The best part was — every single dish was a meat dish. That’s how I like my meals. You think something is a vegetable dish — like green beans — but then D’s mom scoops to the bottom of the serving bowl and is like, “See, these green beans have lamb!” Here are some collard greens — with chunks of beef! This is pot roast! This is pork with pineapple! Shepherd’s pie! Meat pie! WHAT. MEAT PIE?!?!??!?! This was the best thing to have ever happened to me. It was like a scene out of My Big Fat Greek Wedding: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HnjWZT3yWWc

I got a bajillion times more protein in me this weekend than I had the previous weekend. So happy. Here was my dish — I went back for seconds.

My Easter Meal

You would think we were full — but we had to make room for dessert obviously.

Easter Dessert

It was the best Easter ever. To conclude the amazing weekend, you would have thought we didn’t need to eat for a week after that meal, but the next day we went to D’s fav place, Zankou Chicken, for lunch before we headed back up to SF. The minute I get there, I get this weird feeling like I’ve seen this place before — also from the way D talked about it like it was literally the best Palestinian chicken place in the country. Best Palestinian chicken place………..

Curb????? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Co_BhTxgWys

Indeed. Apparently Zankou is what they based that episode on. I was completely star struck by this place.