Monsters and Trips

This is Kilo Monster, for those that are unaware of him. He's my boyfriend's dog that has become mine and if my boyfriend and I ever break up (which we're not, ever!) I am going to fight for custody of this dog because he will be miserable without me. This dog and I have been attached at the hip since Jamie and I first started dating. Apparently he was anti-cuddling and never wanted to be touched for very long and now that's all we do. We cuddle. He started hanging out with Sierra and now he cries like a bitch on the other side of the door when he's locked out. My boyfriend says I'm with him for the dog and not him. Which is not entirely true. I'm with my boyfriend for the dog AND his monster sized penis. God, he needs to get it right already if he's going to accuse me of such terrible things.

Anyway.

I'm leaving for a 2 week, guaranteed fucked up trip with my family to the east coast in 8 days. I sorta invited myself to mooch on to my parents trip because I have friends all over the east coast I want to see. It was originally going to be an east coast trip + trip to Madrid but it's just going to to be too hard to swing the two. I'm going back to Europe for my birthday, so that's fine. It's almost been a year since I've been to Madrid last. Time fucking flies. Then after purchasing my ticket I realized I will be without boyfriend and sleeping on friend's beds to get away from my parents and traveling by car for hours and hours all over the place, from NYC to Virginia and then back up and around again. The things I do to myself... And the reason why is simple. Food. I am traveling for food.

I have a few places that are MUST-STOPS that I will be fattening my liver with.

Melba's in Harlem. Known for their chicken and waffles. As seen on Throwdown.

Morimoto's in Philadelphia. Uh, owned by IRON CHEF MORIMOTO. This is his OG restaurant in the US. Ya. No need to explain anymore, do I?

Blue Duck Tavern in DC. My good friend Seamus recommended this place to me today, I immediately sent info over to my parents and we died at the menu. So, we're stopping here. Plus I don't want to hear shit from Seamus if I don't. Top 10 best hotel restaurants in the world, according to hotel magazine. We'll see.

Tony Luke's in Philadelphia. If Tony Luke doesn't have the best Cheesesteak sandwich I've ever had, then I will never trust Bobby Flay or Food Network again. Ever. I've been wanting to eat at Tony Luke's since I've seen it.

A Salt N Battery in NYC. After a very long, tiresome and unsuccessful hunt for Fish N' Chips in London, I'm hoping NYC has something better to offer. This place is known for it. If they fail me, I give up for life.

Junior's in Brooklyn. Supposedly best cheesecake in town. Yep.

Azucar Cuban Cuisine in NJ. YA. I'm going to be comparing everything to my abuela. We'll see about that.

... This is just a few. I have 30 more places to hit up.

I told my mom that in order to NOT gain a ton of weight, HELLO, I'VE WORKED FUCKING HARD FOR WHAT I HAVE, THANK YOU. ... We are splitting EVERYTHING. Literally everything. I am not ordering anything without sharing it with her and I plan on running every fucking day so long as it's not raining, I don't care how cold it is.

I guess that's it. I probably won't update until I'm either on the east coast or i'm back, unless something ridiculously awesome happens, because I'm a lazy pile of shit when it comes to blogging these days.

the rent is too god damn high.

Mouth Spoiled.

My life isn't all that interesting and I suppose that has been taken out on my blog. My blog has become a diary rather than ranting and raving. I have nothing to be upset about in my life, so I apologize for the lack of fun and/or crazy that has been missing for so long now. I'm happier this way. :)

This weekend, however, I feel like I should write about it. It's not so much interesting but more... how do I put this delicately... My mouth got fucked over and over and over and over again with delicious food.

Friday night my boyfriend and I went to Kiwami, owned by the Katsu-ya Group. This was hands-down one of the best sushi dinners I've had in a long time. This was more than sushi, it was fine dining and pure luxury in a nice date-night setting. We started with pan seared foie gras on top of kobe beef medallions. Perfect appetizer to start the evening. We ordered a bunch of sashimis (the best being the toro and the yellowtail), the spicy tuna on crispy rice was incredible, I ATE UNAGI which is saying a lot. I'm an equal opportunity eater and I always seem to end up with inedible unagi (eel, for those that dont know) so I've avoided it for years. This time it was more delicious. I don't see myself eating unagi anywhere else other than here. We had tempura soft shell crab with ponzu which was awesome. We also ordered seared albacore with shaved black truffles. Let's just say that I was in mouth-fuck heaven and I couldn't have been happier...

Then Saturday night came and somehow the BF and I ended up going down to the Grove with my parents to Ulysses Voyage, my favorite Greek restaurant aside from Papa Cristo's market in DTLA. Care of my parents we had lots of good booze and the consistently great food that Ulysses is. I think I've been to that restaurant 123098120938129083190 times and I will never get sick of it. Every time I go I leave happy, full and drunk, that's all I ask for.

Ranch Girl.

It's been a year and a half since I've been on the back of a horse. I forgot what it was like to be on a horse and just do whatever pleases you. I forgot how freeing that feeling is -- and I forgot how much I loved being around horses when it was just you and the horse and nothing between you. Today I got to feel that feeling again and I'm left with such an itch to ride continuously, but I know what's best for me --- for now -- and that's the occasional ride here and there.

My boyfriend has a ranch up old topanga canyon that's been in his family since the late 1800's. Fucking cool, right? Well, anyway, his uncle has 4 horses up there and today while we were up there for a family gathering, his uncle was trimming the feet on his arab mare (funny, his uncle is buddies with one of my old farriers) and i was holding her for him and we were chatting horses for a while. Then as he's done with her, he says, "ready?" and i'm like... Ready for what? And he says, "to take her for a ride?" lol. Of course I was ready, I am always ready. I mean, looking at me whilst in flip flops and nice jeans you'd think I wasn't... Oh, oh, but I was. and I did. Little brat of an Arab tried to test me and that didn't get her very far other than a heel in her gut which she wasn't too fond of. But then she realized she knew what I was doing, she gave up and we had a nice ride.

My boyfriend is cute. I saw him watching me ride from the patio area. I love that I could feel him smiling at me knowing I was happy. I love how we walk around his rugged ranch hand in hand. We pick grapes off the vineyards and eat them, complain that the avocado trees don't have any avocados ready, have staring contests with creepy cats with bright yellow eyes, sit on the ridge and watch the fog rolling in the canyons. I love being up there. I love that he and I love the same things in life. I also love that he grabs me by the face, tells me I'm beautiful and that he loves me.

Wanna know what I am? I am lucky, in love and couldn't be happier.

My eyes are emerald green when i cry.

I wish this picture could actually capture the true color my eyes turn when I cry. A camera phone during the bright of day just won't cut it. This is an older picture --- after one of my many meltdowns I've had over the past ... well... I always have meltdowns. My eyes get swollen --- from below my lids to the tip of my eyebrows. My eyes turn so brilliantly green that they could be mistaken for precious stones. I can't hide it, nor do I try to. I just don't like explaining why.

Sometimes a girl needs a good cry. Sometimes those cries come at completely inappropriate times, or are triggered by innocent things, but sometimes they're just necessary. There's no other way around it.

I have an ambivalent relationship with crying. Every time I cry I learn something new. Every single tear represents something. Whether it's about myself, someone else, life, it doesn't matter. Every time I learn I hold it and I never let go. I could probably recite every lesson learned for each tear I've shed in my adult years. Despite the growth in every last drop I hate knowing that I've had to cry to learn. I hate crying in it of itself. It's an ugly process. I mean, who actually looks good while crying? Who feels good when they're crying? HAPPY TEARS DON'T COUNT BECAUSE THAT'S NOT REALLY CRYING. Crying is from being stressed, overwhelmed, sad, broken, a lot of things but happiness is not one of them.

I cried recently. Unfortunately I learned things that I didn't want to learn. Now I'm here --- on my blog --- and even here I don't want to talk about it. Pathetic.