Love over food

I’m not sure how many of you have ever browsed my list of favorite blogs, but if you have, you may have stumbled upon Orangette, a blog about food. I found Orangette through Blogger’s Blogs of Note one day when I needed a little midday distraction, and I immediately fell in love with Molly Wizenberg’s writing style and recipes, even though I’m pretty much a disaster in the kitchen and would never attempt to cook one on my own.

Then, after about a month of reading Orangette, I started getting Bon Appetit magazine in the mail, courtesy of my unused and about-to-expire Continental Airlines miles. Again, I don’t really cook, but I do like to look at all the pretty pictures of the food, and one day, while doing just that, I was delighted to find that Molly had a column in Bon Appetit. (It is, indeed, a small world, er blogosphere, after all.)

Anyway, all of that to say that I am an avid fan of Orangette and Molly, which means I’m also an avid fan of Molly’s husband, Brandon, who she writes about from time to time, which is precisely why I was so enamored by today’s post about their wedding anniversary. Since I became a reader only recently, I totally missed the fact that the two of them met through the blog, a story that I happen to find completely and totally romantic. A few quick clicks here and there, and I had gone back in time from their first date to their wedding celebration (like little time capsules, these blogs), and I must say, it all made me sort of gooey inside.

So, if you find that your Tuesday is not going by fast enough and you’re in need of a little midday distraction or you just need a little love in your day, I encourage you to take a few minutes to read about the first date, the proposal, the wedding and the anniversary.

Enjoy!

Monday once again

100 boxes +
3 couches +
2 televisions +
2 beds +
3 coffee tables +
2 desks +
1 hot dog break outside of the 7-Eleven +
50 trips to and from the Uhaul +
20 sore muscles +
1 smashed finger +
1 bruised shin +
1 fried catfish dinner at South +
2 pitchers of beer +
2 bike rides +
9 friends at Cabo Cantina +
2 strawberry margaritas +
2 days of unpacking +
1 hamburger at Big Dean’s +
3 correct answers in the Washington Post crossword +
3 blocks walking to Von’s +
2 hours of The Breakfast Club =

One really long weekend of moving with some fun stuff mixed in.

Boxes, boxes everywhere

Today is officially my last day as a Manhattan Beach resident, and I’m SO EXCITED. My apartment is packed, and I’m getting the keys to the new place tonight. Tomorrow morning at 7 a.m. sharp, while all of you are still tucked warmly into your beds, I’ll be loading up a Uhaul truck, lifting pieces of furniture four times my size and moving my life from one city to another. I’m also going to try to fit in an Alan Jackson concert, some sausage on a stick and maybe, just maybe, a bag of cotton candy.

Tomorrow’s going to be a busy, busy day. That’s for sure. But as long as no one throws out their back or drops a fridge on their toes, I think I’ll survive.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Today's the day

Today is a big day for me. I can’t really tell you why, it’s not something I feel comfortable throwing out there into cyberspace, but I can tell you that today marks an anniversary that was a long time coming, a day I’ve been waiting for with restless anticipation. And now that it’s here, I feel like I can breath a little easier, like maybe, just maybe, something great is hiding out somewhere around the corner.

Mysterious, I know. But even though I can’t tell you all the details, I hope you’ll celebrate with me by raising your glass and drinking to the future.

Priceless

Plane ticket from Los Angeles to Spokane: $340

Derailer at Shooter’s on Coeur d’Alene lake: $15

Hanging out with John Elway: Priceless

Well, I’m back from vacation, and yes, I did hang out with John Elway, famed Denver Broncos Hall of Fame NFL quarterback and my boyfriend’s childhood idol. We were at Shooter’s having a Derailer when John (as we like to call him) walked up with his friend Paul and began talking to us about our day on the lake. We talked about boating, they talked about golfing, and before we knew it, John was insisting we try his very favorite drink, 44 North vodka on the rocks. So we did, his treat, and then there were toasts, pats on the back, and another round. By the time we left, we were tripping over our feet, half from the drinks and half from the excitement of hanging out with someone little boys write letters to.

When we passed them in our boat on our way out of the bay, John called out to us to enjoy our time on the lake. We called out the same and sped off to share the story with anyone who would listen.

“I used to write him so many letters and beg him to write me back,” my boyfriend said on the way back. “And I told him that if he was ever in town, he should stop by my grandma’s house on Grant St. because she was a big fan, too.”

I laughed and shook my head in awe. It was such a neat, neat thing to happen, and I’m so glad I was there to experience it with him.

Before we left, I asked if he wanted me to take a picture of the two of them, but he said no, and I suppose it seems fitting. Without the pictures snapping and the autographs being signed, they were just two guys sitting at the bar, sipping on huckleberry flavored vodka and shooting the breeze. And really, isn’t that what all of us "grown ups" would like to do with the people we once dreamed of growing up to be?

Five-day vacay

Tonight I leave for vacation for five days, so if you don’t hear from me for a while, that’s why. I’m off to a cabin on the Coeur d’Alene Lake in Idaho for some much needed rest and relaxation. To say the past three weeks have been stressful would be a bit of an understatement. Add up finding an apartment, going out of town every weekend, adjusting to life with a roommate, meeting all of my work deadlines and coordinating another move and what you get is a total wreck. My nerves are shot, my hair is flat and I’m crying at the drop of a hat. In other words, this vacation couldn’t come at a better time.

Eight more hours until I get to settle into my window seat, close my eyes and dream of warm days, chilly lake water and long boat rides…

I hope you all enjoy the rest of your week! I know I will.

Feeling funky

I’m in a funk today. I’m in one of those moods where all you really want to do is cry and feel sorry for yourself, even though you’re not exactly sure why. And as I sit here, trapped in my cube, and thus trapped in my funk, I keep thinking about all of the things that would surely get me out of this funk if only I could do them, things like:

Running as fast as I can out of this cube and down the sidewalk into the sun.
Eating a fist-full of peanut M&Ms and not counting one, single calorie.
Drinking a giant glass of frosty milk with ice.
Getting a 60-minute back massage.
Curling up on my couch and watching reality TV all day.
Going on a no-limit shopping spree.
Laying on the beach for hours and hours and hours.
Taking a long, hot shower and crying it all out.

What sort of things get you out of your funks?

Cheers, to us!

What better way to celebrate a new apartment than with pizza, beer and a free dessert??

2 official Santa Monicans + 1 dinner at CPK = the first of many good times to come in the sandy city of Santa Monica!

Have a good weekend, everyone!

You eat it.

I think I may have stumbled upon the best lunch-on-the-go ever: bagels and hummus. While the combo may sound a little weird at first, I assure you, it’s fantastic. My current favorite: toasted onion bagels covered in onion and chive hummus.

Try it. You’ll thank me.

Moving on up

Sorry that I’ve been gone lately! I promise I haven’t forgotten about all you loyal blog readers, it’s just that blogging has suddenly fallen by the wayside in my frantic race around town to find a place to hang my hat out of fear I’d be living in a hotel come July 31st, and today I’m proud to report that I found one! I got an apartment! And not just any apartment. No, that wouldn’t do. I found the most amazing, beautiful apartment in the whole wide world. Ok, maybe not in the world, but definitely in my price range.

Hard wood floors. One and a half baths. Two bedrooms. Dining area. Dishwasher. Microwave. Big windows. Overhead lighting. Ceiling fans. A mere six blocks to the beach. And two parking spaces.

Yes, folks, I said TWO PARKING SPACES.

Sigh. Almost feels like I’ve died and gone to heaven.

The only (tiny) downside is that we have to buy our own fridge. But there seem to be some pretty affordable ones on Craigslist so I’m not gonna let that get me down. Plus, we’ve been talking about splurging on one with an ice maker. AN ICE MAKER!

Oh yes, I’m definitely moving on up.

To the west side.

I said, moving on up (moving on up), to the west side, to a deluxe apartment in the skyyyyy!

Sing with me now!

Moving on up, to the west side, we've finally got a piece of the pie!

A year here, a year there

It’s that time of year again: time to move! During the two years that I’ve lived in California, I’ve lived in three different places, and now, I’m about to be on to my fourth. While some people long for the one place they can settle into and call home, I sort of like moving around every year. It gives you a chance to live in different parts of this grand city of Los Angeles, find new neighborhood restaurants and coffee shops and get to know all the nooks and crannies a little better. (Not to mention my two favorite words: re decorate!)

When I first moved here, I lived in a teeny tiny studio all by my lonesome in Pasadena. Then, as I made friends, I moved into a three bedroom house a few streets north with two other girls. The next move I made was to a one bedroom apartment in Manhattan Beach where for the past year I’ve tried desperately to make the horrendous brown carpet work with my thrift-store home furnishings. And now, I’m looking for a two bedroom in Santa Monica, a place where both my sister and I can call home, and I really couldn’t be more excited.

It’s weird when you think about moving in L.A. Because the city is so big, it seems like everyone just stays inside their little communities most of the time, only venturing out for special occasions like birthday parties and anniversary dinners. For this reason, there are favorite restaurants, shops, parks, bars and malls that I’ve abandoned over the years when I’ve moved that I’ve never gone back to simply because they’re too far away. It seems sad, and it makes me want to be more diligent about frequenting my favorite haunts. But then again, if I hadn’t abandoned them for the convenience of my new little community, I would never have found the new favorites that I’ve come to love even more.

I guess what I’m trying to say is there will always be another mall with a Forever 21, another restaurant with the best happy hour and another bar with the WSU game on every Saturday. There will always be another favorite. And with a year here and a year there, you have a chance to get to know and love each and every one.

It’s all so exciting! Wish me luck on my hunt! Santa Monica, here I come!

Have a great 4th of July weekend everyone! I’m off to some camping in San Diego!

Side part

I went to the salon yesterday to get my hair trimmed, thinking everything would go as it normally does. A little snip snip here, a little snip snip there, and I’d walk out looking like the same old Charisse, just a little neater. But boy was I wrong.

Yesterday, at 3:30 p.m., I walked into the Ultra Lux salon on Aviation Blvd. with a left-side part.

And at 4:15 p.m., I walked out with a right-side part.

Now while this may not seem very monumental to some of you, it surely is to me. I’ve been parting my bangs on the left side of my head for as many years as I can remember. They naturally go that way now. I don’t even have to comb them. But I suppose with years of parting on one side comes years of damage to the hair on that side, and after fifteen minutes of my stylist begging me to switch my part and give my hair a chance to recover, I relented. After all, it can’t be that different, I told myself.

Well, people, it is. It’s a very big difference, and a difference I’m not sure I’m completely comfortable with just yet. Regardless of the fact that it creates this nice swoosh-like thing on my forehead that my sister and boyfriend both assure me is uber stylish, I just can’t shake my fear that it’s a little too Donald Trump. (And it doesn't help that I sort of feel like I have a small, furry animal resting just above my eyes.)

When I walked outside to go to lunch today, the wind blew and I could feel my bangs racing back over to the side where they feel most comfortable. When I grabbed them and hauled them back over to the side that is their new home, I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for them. Change is hard sometimes. I should know. I'm the one wearing it on my forehead.