The Gaslamp District [San Diego, CA]

I snap a photo of the city with one hand as my body reaches to hurry back with the crowd and visiting Liz Lemon who’s a few steps ahead of me.  It’s a Saturday night in San Diego and we’re in one of my most favorite parts of town: The Gaslamp District.  

It’s a robust night with a crowd of beautiful people in their club best roaming the streets laughing amongst themselves or smiling at us as they walk past.  Bicycles toting passenger carts wiz past and one of them is blasting Kesha’s “Tik Tok” as the twentysomething girl occupant dances in her seat and the boys on the street holler if they can join her cart.  

Two plates of lobster come at us in view as Liz Lemon and I spy into the trendy restaurants as the patrons nimbly eat their sizzling Thai, Mexican, Irish, and American food.  All of the colors of the city burn bright with various music adding to the crowd’s excited mumbles about drinking, partying, eating, and many many exclaims of congratulations to the numerous brides-to-be out tonight.

We glide down 5^th Street stopping only once to get a bite at Ghirardelli’s Ice Cream and Chocolate shop whose sign is lit up on the outside like a marquee.  A chocolate expert greets everyone at the door, handing a chocolate square to each person.  The décor is 1930s ice cream parlor with tons of framed nostalgic posters of chocolate and of old San Francisco (where the factory is located).  The massive sundaes and floats come out in cylinder glass cups by waiters dressed in white.  Liz and I notice that a group of girls seated close to us are celebrated a birthday.  “I’d totally have a birthday at an ice cream shop,” Liz says looking at their delicious sundaes.  “Of course,” I say, enjoying my chocolate with rainbow sprinkles, “Why not?  It’d be awesome.”  A future birthday plan I wonder?  I finish my cone and off we go. 

 We pause a few times at interesting looking venues like The Tipsy Crow bar, Babycakes cupcake shop, and the movie theater which is ironically called Reading Cinemas, and once we pass by Croce’s jazz bar and restaurant we make immediate plans to return here for a double-date one day.  The rich jazz notes fill the air as continue walking down the streets of the Gaslamp into the night.

We discussed the inexplicable popularity of overpriced cupcakes and fondue as we admired the chic architecture of the high rises and lofts.  No matter how long I’m in the San Diego I can never get over how beautiful the city really is at night.  It’s an unusually clean and safe place city considering it’s the 8^th largest city in the United States, not to mention how the soft paint tones and hundreds of street lights make it one of the most beautiful cities I’ve ever visited.    

We ended up at the Convention Center where Comic Con will be hosted in a few weeks, which is right next to Petco Park where the San Diego Padres play.  Due to the arch of the streets, on game night glance down 8^th Street and you’ll be able to see straight into the park.  It was closed when Liz Lemon and I walked past, but the mini park (a grassy hill near the bleachers) was hosting Twilight: New Moon.  We could hear Edward discussing his moody immortality all the way few blocks down on our way back to the car.  

A good night in the Gaslamp.  And a real treat to be able to share it will a good friend. 

Review: Newbreak Cafe [San Diego, CA]

I’m staring at the ocean as the grey waves crash down its white crowns on the shore. I have a great view of the cars parked close by the rocks and a lone colorful kite flittering about ahead. It’s an unusually overcast chilly day in San Diego for late June and I’m absolutely loving it. I had the strongest urge for a cup of tea and blogging, thus here I am at Newbreak Coffee in the Ocean Beach section of SD.

It’s a sort of kooky place for this region where surfboards, Bob Marley, and marijuana tattoos are more prevalent than laptops and college t-shirts. Newbreak has managed to blend the beach culture with café clientele with warm orange and yellow hues, with surfboards and black and white photos of locals hanging on the walls. Several extension cords litter the floor for computer cords and there is a sort of hodgepodge of furniture, from new wooden stools, to bright plastic booths, to old wicker chairs. Some customers have tasseled hair or dreadlocks, some have dress shirts, some are barefoot, and some have leather loafers. And I’m enjoying my Provence Roobis vanilla tea with the bag hanging in the large white cup by a thin wooden stick.

The tea selection of this place could put any chain coffee tea store to shame. There are 42 different varieties of tea here, though you won’t find the selection list written down. Each tea is displayed in decorative glass jars adoring nearly an entire wall in the place. There’s a menu guide with various colored stickers on the jars equating to caffeinated, decaf, herbal, black, white, fruity, and many other permutations from countries like Japan, India, Sri Lanka, Himalayas, Kenya, Assam, and Nigeria.

The names of the tea are equally as fascinating, with Blood Orange Tea, Mango Mist, Monk’s Blend Tea, Island Coconut Tea, Formosa Gunpowder Green Tea, Maple Tea, Lover’s Leap, Egyptian Chamomile, and a few standards like Earl Grey, and English Breakfast.

There’s a healthy selection of breakfast and lunch food as well like salads and soups, grilled paninis and omelets, and morning bagels and pastries. The prices are a bit much for the area, as even a simple meal like cup of tea with a bagel and cream cheese will put you back at least $5.

Their prices might not be cheap but I can’t imagine their rent is either. After all, as I sip my now cooled Provence Roobis, tasting the full taste of vanilla (plus one packet of Splenda) I turn away from my screen for second and admire the real attraction of the place: the view of the beautiful and majestic Pacific.

22 Party Tips

Time to party, eh?  Love it.  As I’ve attended a party school for college I’ve been lucky enough to enjoy my share of parties as well as host several myself.  Yes, all parties are different with various vibes and tribes but I do think that there are some essential party tips for any occasion, whether that’s a huge blow-out or a sporadic kick-back.  So here are my 22 Party Tips!

1.) stocked toilet paper.  When I mentioned this one to my girls they exclaimed “Yes!  Oh my god, it’s so damn annoying when there isn’t tp.”  When I mentioned this to my guys they said “I’ve never noticed”.  Fellas, if you’re hosting a party, us girls WILL notice.  Thank you.

2.) set your alarm for 11:50pm.  Cops and noise violations come knocking at midnight.

3.) music.  I know I know, this one seems pretty obvious but the main focus should not be that music is playing but that the music accurately reflects the mood of the event.  Hip-hop may be perfect for a dance party but not exactly the tone for a tea and scones party.  This should be obvious, but hey, it’s a biggie.  I’d also advice to start a playlist with current music, then a fan favorite every 10 songs or so such as popular songs from back in the day like “Hot In Herre” by Nelly, and don’t forget to add some of your off-beats favorites in the mix every 15ish songs or so like Black Carl’s “The Wolf”.

4.) ping pong balls.  While you’re buying the booze don’t forget the trademark plastic red cups and a few ping pong balls.

5.) the triangle method.  Almost everyone comes to parties in groups. Now, in a perfect world everyone would want to come to every party but occasional if there’s a group of say, 3, there could be that 1 person who doesn’t want to go and can then influence the other 2 to not attend.  Thus instead of getting 3 extra people at your party you have 0.  That’s where the triangle method comes in.  The triangle method if you’re a party-goer: if you want to go say you want to go, convince at least one other friend to confirm going with you, then have the two of you convince the skeptic third, creating a triangle of influence.  If you’re a host: If you have two friends you want to come but they’re on the fence about it tell person #1 that person #2 is going and tell person #2 that person #1 is going and thus you act as one end of the triangle to get those other two to attend.

6.) lie about start time.  For a large party tell people it starts at 9pm if you want your first guests to arrive at

On being 22

 

Today I walked away from the sea.  Today I walked up my street past houses I’ve never seen, running my fingertips along fences I’ve never touched.  I’ll be living in San Diego for the next couple of weeks in a part of town that smells of ocean salt and smoke.  My boyfriend of 3 ½ years lives here and every month I drive the 350+ miles to the edge of the coast to see him for a weekend and once a month he drives to the middle of the desert to see me.  I made the rash decision to live here again this summer and leave behind work and possible internships to enjoy time at the sand and my boyfriend’s skin.  But today I am in a contemplative mood. As I walked down the street today past those houses I’ve never seen, running my fingertips along those fences I’ve never touched I thought of what it meant to be 22 and living a life I could have never expected.
 

I suppose that what’s most striking about this age thus far is how nonchalant it crept up and has lingered into a state of being.  For every birthday since I was…forever I’ve either been tremendously excited (13, 16, 17, 18, 20, 21) or annoyed (14, 15, 19), but this is the first year I’ve been oddly neutral.  

What 22 means to me as a concept

I think of 20, 21, and 22 as the “baby twenties”, as in, old enough to cool and trendy but young enough to still get away with shit.  At 23, I don’t know, I just see it as a number where one should have at least some idea of what they want to do or, at the bare minimum, have the balls to be who are even if they don’t have a clue yet.  A 23 year-old is someone is a little life on their bones and

The sacred art of eating a pop-tart

So it's a little past 3:16am and I'm enjoying a cherry pop-tart with some milk while listening to DJ Diplo techno, and it has me thinking: does everyone have a "method" while eating a pop-tart?

I always start at the bottom, nibbling on the toasted flat edge.  From there I try to scrape the bottom jelly part with my teeth to leave the frosted top part untouched.  Usually I can only do this sections, but I think crunching into the top sans the jelly is a lot sweeter of a treat then the bottom.  Next I bite into the edges of the rectangle, which is a nice break from the frosting and center.   Last is the top edge with the cherry frosting coasting it, which is the absolute best part of a pop-tart.

I've eaten pop-tarts this way for as long as I remember though it wasn't until 3:22am a little bit ago that I realized that this is probably coo-coo.  Goodnight, folks.

The street in Arizona that leads to OZ

Lombard Street, Rodeo Drive, Bourbon Street, Telegraph Avenue, Pennsylvania Avenue.   Anyone says the names of these streets and there is an instant connotation, perhaps even a memory.   Around 11:52pm last night My Friend In the Purple Dress and I were driving down my favorite street in Arizona, the blase unassuming construction part of University Drive.

It was the very first street I drove down when I moved here from California.  My Charming Fellow and I had driven 13+ hours straight from the Bay Area to Phoenix and when we got here that August night it was in the high 100s despite being past 2am and it was pouring warm rain.  We were tired, cranky, and this was my new home.

That first impression will always be how hot, flat, and strange this desert place was and that nagging trepidation about living here.  Could I manage to live here for 4 years?  Was this the right school for me?  Would my months-old relationship survive long-distance?  Was it going to be a party school?  It was both nerve-inspiring and exciting.