Would You Believe? A Friday Fiver

1. Would you believe that ... I am ending the week with my to do list entirely done, except for the item that I need to call Shadalan because she and I seem to play endless phone tag. Endless. I don't know how this happened, because please believe that having a job and running a second business and starting another business and getting ready for a weekend in Denver and then a wedding and then three weeks on the Asian subcontinent is extensive, especially when you were on a mountain with no phone or internet for the previous week. I'm pretty happy.

2. Would you believe that ... this is the actual image from an ad running on Facebook:



And the text that accompanies this ad is "This is pretty gross, huh?". And it's for weight loss. Now, I don't necessarily think that being on the non-anorexic side of things is gross, though I do think that being a size ten and dressing like you're a size four is gross. You wouldn't see me trying to squeeze into a size zero because that size would be too small for my body and I would look fat and messy. But, you know, I can't decide if I find the ad offensive or not, honestly? I mean, I do not think that we need to be dogging on the overweight folks who, in actuality aren't overweight. However, I think we also go too far with the "love your body no matter what" mentality, and the truth is that most people are going to look at some nasty, white trash muffin top and think that it's gross. I might actually applaud the ad for it's honesty. I don't know. What I do know is that that may be one of the most brilliant ads ever because you can't not look at it. It's totally shocking, and I bet it shocks some people into purchasing, which is unfortunate because ...

The other thing I know is that putting a pink patch on your arm with some herbal supplements in it will not cause you to gain weight.

3. Would you believe that ... I'm going to Mongolia in about two weeks? I remember being in high school and dreaming that some day I'd see the world, and now we're riding horses across the desert in Mongolia for two weeks. Crazy, right? I am excited beyond belief. I need an extra camera battery. I need to find a cat sitter. I need to book a flight back from Pennsylvania for after. I need ... to relax about it and let it run its course.

4. Would you believe that ... that there is a bar in San Francisco called "Would You Believe." It's in Chinatown 3 and specializes in mixing Kaluha with ANYTHING. It is the Asian gangster dive bar of all Asian gangster dive bars. The night that shamus and Slappy and I were in there there were actually police trying to track down a gang leader, and only one person other than us who was white. And it is one of my most favorite places on the entire earth.

5. Would you believe that ... the rest of that Kid Rock album is actually pretty good? "How to seek salvation when our nations race relations have me feeling guilty about being white?" That's a pretty good lyric. "Rock and Roll Jesus" is a good song for what it's supposed to be doing. Yeah, I'm going to say it. I liked the album, just hated the single.

Happy weekend.

 

I Am Thankful for Mimosas

And so Thanksgiving was, as usual, fantastic. It was also, as usual, exhausting and full of cluster. But I am, as usual, very thankful for my wonderful friends and wonderful San Francisco ... and mimosas.

Wednesday, 7:30pm: A questionable call the evening before a three day gauntlet run in San Francisco is to have a dinner guest over. Right? Because then the things you are not doing between 7:00pm and around midnight or so include packing, sleeping or getting cat supplies ready. But dinner is lovely, and by the way there is a fantastic recipe in last month's Cooking Light for a holiday beef stew with Guinness and cranberry sauce. And it is amazing. And my dinner guest is the kind of super sweet dinner guest who shows up with flowers and wine and then offers to restore an antique picture of my grandmother that has some water damage, so that made me fine and content with not packing, sleeping or getting cat supplies ready in the evening.

Thursday, 4:30am: This is when you leave for the airport if you have a 6:00am flight on Thanksgiving morning. It sounds worse than it is in real life. I mean, it's early, but the airport is also peaceful. You're not battling crowds at check in or security or in the parking lots. You can grab a cup of coffee and sit and enjoy McCarrrean's free wireless. I mean, it's early. It means you haven't slept the night before, but it's got its benefits. That is all.

Thursday, 8:30am: This is when you arrive at Chez Halff and take a one hour nap, acting like that hour is going to make a difference.

Thursday, 9:30am: This is when you leave for Chez Kennelco. You were supposed to arrive by 10am, but you know that's hopeless. You say before you leave that no matter what time you get there, you are staying only for an hour because you need to nap before people come over for Thanksgiving dinner.

But then you get to Chez Kennelco, and you are having a wonderful time because Ken and Eleanor and their beautiful children are so lovely and so engaging. And it is sunny and warm outside and so Ken takes the kids out to play football and you get to spend your late morning sitting in the sun and watching kids toss a football in a perfectly manicured back yard on Thanksgiving day. And Eleanor is cooking in such a way that it is required that you pick fresh sage from her backyard garden, which somehow feels like the most appropriate Thanksgiving day chore altogether. And everybody has stories and it's warm in the kitchen and the kids are playing and it's all perfect. And you're a little bit jealous, except that you have to check yourself and remind yourself that your Thanksgiving is wonderful too. It's all good and perfect and delightful.




Thursday, 1:00pm-ish: Is when you arrive back at Chez Halff. You offer to help in the kitchen, and graciously Halff allows you to cut some brussel sprouts. But that is it! No working in kitchen de Halff. It's good that he, as he says, knows his limitations. Around 3ish, Rice, Michael and Ho show up.

And it's the best Thanksgiving in years.

Firstly, the food is amazing. The turkey is rubbed with sage and pancetta butter. Halff has made rich folk green bean casserole for me. There are pies, oh yes, there are pies.

And the company is spectacular. We laugh all night long. We play cards, which involves more laughing and the obvious realization that I can't count, as I'm the only one required to take notes to remember my score. Here is my favorite story of the night, as told by Michael:

"So I'm in the bank, and the teller is a cute girl, but, you know, I'm gay. And she and I are talking, and it's all like we like the same band and all, and we're both being friendly, you know? And so she says, 'Hey, that band is playing next week. We should go.' And I'm all like, 'Does she not realize that I'm gay?' But whatever. So I say, 'Sure. Can I bring my boyfriend, too?' And, no joke, she pauses, and then there's this huge sigh and she's all like, 'Suuuure. Siiiiiigh.' And I just keep on filling out my deposit slip. And she all keeps talking, and I swear to God what she says is, 'Mama told me. She said - you're thirty years old. Don't move to San Francisco, you'll never find a man. Mama told me.'"

Best.Thanksgiving.Story.Ever.





It really was so good. Every part of it. Thank you everybody.

Friday, 10amish: Is when shamus shows up for breakfast and Black Friday shopping. Breakfast, in case there hasn't been enough food yet, is homemade waffles with Halff's homemade cherry cranberry sauce over them.



Pumas are bought, and then...

shamus gets horribly, horribly ill. Horribly ill.

I'm just going to say that Friday is a day we will not recall. There is dry heaving. There is a need for Gatorade just to rehydrate what is lost. It's, well, not too pretty. I love you shamus! I do!

Saturday, 10amish: Is when you arrive at Chez Paul & Dex. It is also when the first round of the Jocelyn, Paul & Dex holiday tradition of mimosas served in huge pint glasses is served.



Holiday presents are exchanged. I get a bottle of Godiva Chocolate Liquor, which is as good a present as you can get. I text the following to Shimmy:

"Paul and Dex just gave me Godiva chocolate liquor, so we'll be drinking high end chocolate orange martinis at Bring the Naughty, Leave the Nice!"

To which Shimmy texts: "I love Paul and Dex."

Don't we all, don't we all.

We meet up with Dale for brunch at some mildly pretentious Castro brunch place, where we feel that the correct follow-up to mimosas is a bottle of wine.




Then we go back to Chez Paul & Dex where there is another round of mimosas and many, many hours of video game. And anime. Video games and anime. The afternoon pretty much looks like this from where I'm sitting.



And then we pass out. It's perfect.

Dinner is in the mall -- yes, the mall -- with lovely AshleighE. Here's a picture, taken specifically because we were in the Muni station and I said, "Hmmm. Soft lighting in here. This would be a very flattering place to take a picture of us.



One would think that that day was full enough, and involved enough drinking, but then Paul and I head out to Trad'r Sams to have cocktails with Melis and Howie. By cocktails, we mean a Black Magic, which pretty much puts us on our asses. But Melis and Howie look amazing. Here's my favorite quote from Melis, who is clearly the most awesome mother in the world (and I mean that seriously - because she knows who she is and doesn't let the fact that she has kids change her core, even if it has to change her outward behavior sometimes).

Melis
You know, what we learned early was that, sure, you could get a baby sitter to stay until 4:00am and you could stay out, but no matter what you did, those kids were going to be up at 6:30am yelling, "Milk! Milk!" And the smell, too!

11:00pm: Is when you arrive back at Chez Paul and Dex and cram in four hours of sleep before calling a cab to leave for the airport again at 4:30am.

It was a perfect, perfect, perfect Thanksgiving. I love San Francisco. I love my friends. I'm thankful for at least two years where I could spend Thanksgiving there with them. I'm thankful, also, for mimosas.

Applesauce had a good time, too. And then he passed out drunk.

 

I'm Thankful That I Finally Had Time to Journal This

So, when last we left our fearless girl, it was Thanksgiving and she was going to San Francisco for some relaxation. And if you mean by "relaxation" encouraged high-volume drinking, expensive shoe buying and generally encouraged bad behavior, well, then, R & R it was for sure! There are actually A LOT of much better photos from the weekend on shamus' camera, including a little ditty I like to call "Jocelyn's Drunk Crawl: A Study in Three Photos." But that bitch won't send me those pictures, so you're all screwed. I've mostly broken this trip down by story instead of by day. Enjoy. I know I did.

Wednesday Day: Ashley OWNS shamus & Me
shamus and I spend the first part of the day on Wednesday with AshleyPooh. She's turning 21 this month you know, and she's already causing all kinds of trouble. What's most awesome about this is that even though shamus has a car, driving experience and money for gas, we basically harass AshleyPooh into driving us all over the bay area to run errands. "Hey, Ashley, can you drive us to Target in Daly City?" "Hey, Ash, they don't have a Trivial Pursuit board at Target. Can you take us back to Divis to go to Gamescape?" "Hey, Pooh, shamus needs to get his hair cut. Can you drive us to Bloomies and then stay there with us while he gets his hair cut? We can get some food." I really wish I could tell you ALL of the stories from the day, but she would kill me, so those can just be our special memories. Which is sad, because that shit is Funny. But the real reason I'm writing this is because we were all talking about how nice it is to hang out with Ashley now that she's an adult. And she's turned into a beautiful adult. I loved every conversation with her, especially the one that went like this.

AshleyPooh
That Escalade is HOT. I want one exactly like it, but black on black.

shamus
Girl, you work at Gymboree.

AshleyPooh
Temporarily.

It's funnier if you heard it. Look how beautiful she's grown up, y'all.



Wednesday Night: The Beginnings of Something Very Bad
Wednesday night is the first night I am introduced to Bart, who is a relation who is also not really a relation to Halff. He's Texan. He's a traveler, so we have that in common. Some would say he's pretty hot. But really, what this story comes down to is that it's true that you cannot put me in a room and expect for me NOT to flirt with single men unless I'm clearly in a position where I've been asked not to. And usually when I'm with shamus, I've been almost specifically asked TO do that for entertainment value. This story, so you know, is building so that we can get to Friday night. Work with me. It all starts with this exchange.

Bart
So, yeah. What's your deal? Are you in a relationship or not?

me
I mean, I guess I'd go with no. Yeah, no. I mean. It's a weird time in my life. But, sure. No.

(Awkward Pause)

me (taking it up a notch because I can see that I've lost him with my hedging and I need to ENTERTAIN)
Which, I mean, I need to figure out because I WANT A BABY LIKE FIVE MINUTES AGO.

(here, we cut to shamus' face, which is contorting because he can see where I'm trying to take this - especially since he's aware that I so did not want a baby five minutes ago).

Bart
Well, I mean, you don't need a man for that anymore. I mean, unless you're looking for that - for the husband and the family. ARE YOU LOOKING FOR THAT? I CAN'T TELL IF YOU'RE LOOKING FOR THAT.

me (thinking "awesome, i'm so going to win and turn this into something PERFECT by the end of the weekend")
I sure do! Who doesn't want that! What girl isn't looking for that?!

Remember all this, because Friday is awesome.

Wednesday Night: The Continuation of Something Very bad
By which I mean that by the end of Wednesday night I had gotten so drunk and messed up that I literally passed out face down on a couch. And there was a boy (who was not Bart) who found that hot. And when this was discussed with shamus, his response was "WHAT IS WRONG WITH STRAIGHT PEOPLE?" Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving: It's a beautiful thing
Thanksgiving morning was spent drinking coffee and playing cards. Then we all cooked. I learned how to cut brussel sprouts (which I kicked ass at) and how to make crostini (which I didn't kick ass at). Then there is this frantic and crazy rush to try to find extra beverages for the evening in which Halff is for some reason surprised that I'm running all over San Fran in my pajamas, which is surprising since I've never not done that. This is a day better told in pictures. So enjoy.


It was warm and friendly in the kitchen.



The turkey was not warm and friendly to start...


But Halff caressed it into caring.


And then he got REALLY dirty and stuffed it.


And shamus looked pretty.


And Avery & Janet made drinks.


If you looked at this picture, you would think I rocked that crostini.

The Halffingtons show up for dinner. Janet & Avery show up for dinner. Janet & Avery bring a cocktail kit to make some kind of deadly apple cocktail. And they make it Avery-style (which in case you've missed the last 8 or so years of my life means strong enough to knock a girl unconscious). And it's so wonderful to see them and they make me wish I were there to over-drink with them all the time, even though when I over-drink it seems like they're just drinking the right amount, so go figure. And this is where the photos of "Jocelyn's Drunk Crawl: A Study in Three Photos" would go if you all weren't screwed by the fact that I don't have the photos.

And here is how Thursday night ends:

Me
Hee hee - Bart, you should totally hear the Christmas ring tone on my phone! It's so cute! Hee hee!

Bart
Okay! What's the number! I'll call you!

Me
It's xxx-xxx-xxxx! Oh NO! Look how you have my phone number now!

(cut to shamus' face, which is glowing with joy)

I slept well that night and was amply thankful.

Black Friday: Don't TOUCH my Pink Puma Ballet Flats
But why would you go shopping on Black Friday, you ask.
a. Halff wanted some games for the wii
b. I wanted some shoes
c. We're AMERICAN

We start in the Puma store where I and fifty 17-year-old-Asian girls all want the pink Puma ballet flat. My battle to overcome the girls and secure a pair of the highly coveted shoes would be the story here, if the story weren't really shamus trying on a seemingly endless array of shoes, identifying that they weren't wide enough AND that they looked exactly like a pair that he already had and then still standing there debating whether or not to buy them. I TOLD you we were American.

Then to EB Games where Halff and fifty 17-year-old-Asian boys AND some REALLY disturbing 40-something white guys all want the same eight available wii games. The story here would be the battle to acquire games if the story weren't really that shamus took the singularly most awesome picture of me and Halff ever taken while we were in this store. SORRY YOU CAN'T SEE IT.

Then Bloomies where we looked at lots of plate settings for the boys and lots of holiday party dresses for me and I was horrified that my favorite dress was a Marc by Marc Jacobs because that stuff is CRAP. But it was, and there we are (and yes, boys, I did get that dress when I got home).






Black Friday: The Conclusion of Something Really Bad
It was almost a better ending than I'd hoped for. First, we meet up at Rose Pistola for dinner with the Halffingtons, including Bart. I begin the evening with two lemon drops made with limoncelo. I then proceed to order butternut squash soup but insist that they take the marscapone off the top because I'm totally counting calories (see note about about double serving of sugar-filled cocktail). The soup, of course, is bland without the marscapone and in contrast to my rich liquor drink, and I kick the night off by taking four spoon fulls and then saying to the waitress (and to shamus and Halff's horror), "Take it back. It's just not good." Yes, I did. Oh yes.

Bart
So, if I came to Vegas, could I stay with you?

Me
Insert dead silence while my face twists into contortions of horror and totally being offended like you've only imagined.

shamus
Insert dead silence while his fact twists into a contortion trying to control the rolling laughter that's dying to come out of his mouth.

Bart (trying desperately to make a save from a dropped ball)
I mean on your floor! On your floor!

Bart's Mom
Insert sound of laughing at his horrible attempt to make a save here. Literally. His mom was laughing at him!

Me
Of course you could! You just give me a call when you're ready to come up! I've always got floor space for you sweetheart!

Yes, I did that people. Because it was Thanksgiving, I was not in anything even close to being able to be called a relationship that would prohibit me from going for "material", and that would have been a good story if he would have come up to visit during, no joke, rodeo week.

And then we saw Borat with Mr. Ho Lin. I wish I hadn't loved it the way that I did, but I'm AMERICAN.

Saturday & Sunday: I'd like a mimosa with my mimosa, please. And I'd like a Daniel Craig with my bedtime, please.
Saturday I hit up (I Love) Paul Jack and Dex. We head to lunch where we immediately supplement lunch with mimosas. Listen, I'm just going to start out with photos so you can see where this day went.





See those big old pint glasses in those photos? Those are empty mimosa glasses. Also, those are not the first, second or even third round of mimosas in those glasses. We only have a couple photos here. Wanna know why? I was too mimosa-ed out to operate a camera.

I have no stories. I have no stories because it was a perfect day in which we did nothing. By did nothing, I mean we watched science fiction dvds and talked and drunk dialed some folks and then literally laid in bed while Paul did animation on a teddy bear model and we all went "OH HOW CUTE" every time the teddy bear moved its arm. I kid you not. That was our day. And I LOVED it. I was a happy girl. I hope that Paul and Dex adopt me soon. I can behave like a small child without having all the same neediness of a small child.

In the morning on Sunday, after church and dim sum, both of which I attended in my pink Puma ballet flats which were not broken in and created huge blisters on the back of my ankles, we braved the crowds to go see His Hottness Daniel Craig in Casino Royale.

And so Daniel Craig would take off his shirt, and (I Love) Paul Jack would grab my hand and squeeze it because it was a significant moment. Then (I Love) Paul Jack would gurgle.

And Daniel Craig would emerge from the ocean wearing nothing but boy shorts, and (I Love) Paul Jack would grab my hand and squeeze it because it was a significant moment. Then (I Love) Paul Jack would gurgle.

And Daniel Craig would be naked and tied to a chair and all sweating, and (I Love) Paul Jack would grab my hand and squeeze it because it was a significant moment. Then (I Love) Paul Jack would gurgle.

That movie kicked ass.

And then we went to Origins to whore for bath product. And then (I Love) Paul Jack and Dex bought me a beautiful meal with a fantastic bottle of wine and we told funny stories about Napa trips and I never wanted to leave San Francisco again.

But I did that night, after taking a nap with my head in shamus' lap while Halff played with the wii and I said again that I never wanted to leave San Francisco again.

Except that it was warm in Vegas and dumping rain in San Francisco. Except that after I got back to Vegas, all kinds of good times were waiting for me. Except that we all know that if the reality was that I was supposed to be back in San Francisco, I'd be back there right now for sure.

I left more Thankful than I was when I got there. I left ready for December, armed with some now-well-broken-in pink Puma ballet flats, a selection on a holiday party dress and five pretty solid days of my version of rest and relaxation.


Applesauce is thankful too.