Jul/092
Taco Tuesday
Last night, after going to the opening of a high end tattoo shop (story tk on Bitchbuzz) that was sponsored by Hpnotiq, the older cousin to Alize, a drink I'd previously only had at a strip club, I spied Yelp to tell me where I could get food. I had to walk across 22nd street to go meet my cousin at Mr. West, a "lounge" (to me, it is a club, but what do I know about these things? Nothing.) and I filtered my results to be within 2 blocks and with only one dollar sign.
From there, emerged a pizza place with the name Giant Burrito. I was skeptical, but a reviewer from San Francisco gave it high marks for its tacos, so I took the plunge. I asked for the "taco de la casa," which had all three meats: al pastor, pollo asada, and carne asada. It also came with guacamole, onions, and of course, cilantro. The lady asked if I wanted "chile" and duh, of course I did.
About 5 minutes later, I was handed a pile of meat on top of two warm corn tortillas with a lime on the side. No pickled vegetables, but I could deal. I liked it so much I ordered another. I smelled like onions for the rest of the night, but I didn't care. All week, I had been yearning, in a way usually reserved for guys who don't like me back, for a piece of California. And then I tasted it.
I'll be back home someday.
Dec/072
New York, I love you, but you're bringing me down.
The world doesn't want me to go to the East Coast.I have tried, twice now in two months, to make a sojourn to the Tri-State Area and both times, have been stopped by forces in my life and now, by forces in other's lives.
The world is saying to me: Stay in California. Say "hella". Put avocado and sprouts on everything. Toast your bagels. It's a freeway, not a highway. A hooded sweatshirt and a light pea coat is perfectly acceptable outerwear in December. Pizza should have as many toppings as possible. Don't walk too fast, don't talk too fast or too loud. Say "hella" another 10 times in 5 minutes - feels good, doesn't it?
And you know what? It does. I am yours now, California. To do whatever you want to do. Like most things worth having, I'll lose you when I'm good and ready.