Week 10-LA to the Bay

So I guess this isn't really about Buster either. It's about the future and I guess my future will involve Buster whether I like it or not. In light of the events of last weeks posts I had considered shipping Buster out to my ex's in Atlanta with no warning-just let a dog arrive on the doorstep. I'd do it if I wasn't so attached to him. It's nice to have a little furry thing when you feel pathetic and single.

My friend Ally was in town from Lake Tahoe the other day driving and we started talking over coffee (code for beer) and she said her and a guy she met in Tahoe (who happens to be a really hot, fit physical therapist) are talking about moving to Marin County to get more work. They both work in the fitness industry and given the current economic situation the country is it it's best to work somewhere that people have extra money to spend on luxuries like trainers and yoga classes.  Marin might not be the richest area in California but they spend like they are so I thought that seemed like a good idea.  She's my best friend and I haven't lived with her since Orange County 3 years ago and I'd love to again.

At the same time my former roommate Amy informed me that she is moving to Long Beach in the fall and that I should come be her roommate for a second time (which is perfect because she loves Buster). Hayley and Callan will also be moving to LA in January, and my friend Ian is looking for a roommate to live with him in Hollywood in August.  So it's a lot of options.

I also got promoted at Whole Foods and my super hot manger was telling me if I ever need a recommendation anywhere that he knows a ton of managers both in LA and around the Bay that he would for sure hook me up with.  And since I'm a nerd I know I'll end up in a master's program sooner rather than later. I can't stay away from school for too long.

But for now? My ex arrives in California on the 9th for a family wedding and wants to see me. Although I think that's code for wanting to see Buster. The only pictures he likes on my Facebook are of my dog, not me.  We were supposed to take a 2 week vacation in Santa Barbara together that I just may end up taking with Buster instead.  But Vegas for my birthday is a sure thang, Hayley will be staying at the MGM during the same time which is going to be perfect.  I'm going to Outside Lands, Los Angeles with Callan, Tahoe for the Fourth of July, and maybe even Seattle with my grandmother for a family reunion.  So life is good, Buster is happy, and I'M FUCKING DONE WITH COLLEGE!!!!!

Hayley at the Chrome Lotus

Week 9-Chrome Lotus, Santa Rosa, CA

This post has nothing to do with Buster. Except to mention that he was very upset about being left at home.  So if you're all reading this for is to hear about all the cute things I do with my dog then skip this week.

So Buster's previous owner, my now very official ex-boyfriend and I have been maintaining a pseudo-relationship cross country for just about a year now.  He was out here for most of last summer and I even visited Atlanta over Christmas break.  But last week some shit went down, some shit that I'd really rather not get into but all that's necessary to know is he broke up with me rather officially.  Which was kind of a downer considering that when I left Atlanta in January I had offered to move there to be with him and that's all I had really planned for my future. Which was stupid. Really stupid. 

All that's to say is that basically I'm a liar and when I said in the first post of this blog that me and Buster are looking for new places in Cali to leave that in my head I was thinking fuck California I fully plan on moving to Georgia post-graduation.  

But since he broke up with me that's obviously not an option because let's face it, why the hell else would I ever leave California? No man is really worth it if you ask me except Adrian Grenier and I'm pretty sure he lives in Hollywood so I don't have to leave either way.

Since I was wallowing a lot that week at the shock of it all and my future now extremely uncertain (let me just interject here that 10 days later it now makes me sick that I ever would base any post-collegiate plans on another person) and I was now very much single and alone on a Friday night I knew there was just one person I could call that could make me feel better about guy problems, mostly because she has had her fair share and maintains a completely flippant attitude toward most guys she dates. And that person is, of course, Hayley Marx. Who else? 

Hayley took me and my friend Ben out for margaritas in Santa Rosa, which was fine but not really distracting.  We walked around downtown until we got to the Chrome Lotus, Santa Rosa's 'club.' 

Now I'd heard things about the Chrome Lotus--that is was full of bros, and bro hoes with tons of tattoos and fake eyelashes and fake boobs and fake tans and basically a really trashy place full of not very intelligent people.  So naturally I decided to go in.  We looked ridiculous because we all had dressed to just go to dinner, not out dancing-"I don't normally wear jeans to this type of event," said Hayley to the doorman, and we got there at like 10:15 or some other equally and ridiculously early hour so naturally we looked retarded.  

But it got better, and let me just say thank God I brought Ben because I was exactly zero fun that night. I was driving and usually when I drive I drink anyways but my brother had gotten into a drunk driving accident the weekend before that had really shook me up so I wasn't about to do that. And the thing is that I REALLY don't feel like dancing when all I've had in my mouth is tonic water.  

I will admit that the place got pretty crackin and it wasn't all bro hoes.  Vanessa Villafuerte even made a very drunk VIP appearance as we were leaving which was kind of awesome.  Hayley found a black guy she had been stalking at the mall to dance with and I parked my sober self by the front door and read FML for about a half hour before Ben and a guy he had found to spend the night with dragged me out to the dance floor and started grinding me from front and behind.  So I did end up dancing and having a little fun.  Ben hugged me and said 'I love you,' before disappearing into the crowded sweaty dance floor with Elton or whatever that guy's name was. I forget but I do have a picture of Hayley dancing all up on him.

Buster

Buster at the beach

Sonoma coast

Week 8-Bodega Coast

I've always loved water. I have a weird obsession with drinking more of than the average human, taking 30 min showers, love doing the dishes and staring at the washing machine as the water spins around. I love watering my yard and splashing around in the muddy water with my bare feet. I'm obsessed with aquariums and sea life and mermaids. But more than anything I love the ocean and swimming. I learned to swim at 4 years old.  My parents, coming from Southern California near the ocean, taught me and my brother to swim before we could even speak properly. I was on a swim team all through junior high and most of high school and even though I wasn't fast I loved it. I'll swim in anything-a pool, lake, the Russian River even when the e-coli content is the highest in history. But mostly I love swimming in the ocean.

When I lived in Orange County me and Ally (my friend since we were 1 year old) would go to Huntington Beach almost every single day.  Ally was never as comfortable in the water as I was but even she would run with me from the bike path, across the beach while flinging our shoes and shorts off and then straight into the water without stopping.

There's just something so natural about being in liquid. Maybe because we spend the first 9 months of our existence in water, but isn't swimming the best feeling in the world? It's the best physical therapy and exercise.  And it's so relaxing.

You can't hear, smell, talk, or see very well. You can do amazing things with your body that you can't do on dry land.  You're weightless. And you're alone, in that huge ocean, just floating, becoming part of something so powerful and amazing.

The beaches in So Cal are my favorite for swimming but there is something crazy and wild about the ocean in Nor Cal. I rarely get more than my feet in the frigid water up here. But one day so many years ago I was with my first boyfriend and best friend. I don't even think we were dating yet. We weren't planning on getting into the water but we were both fish in another life, it was like a magnet was pulling us in and we couldn't say no. We dove in, slamming our bodies into the waves, pulling our jeans up every time we surfaced for air, the salt making our eyes turn red.  But we couldn't stop laughing and smiling. At nothing really, it was so simple and innocent.  People walking past were laughing at how insane we were to get into 45 degree water full clothed.  I'm sure we looked insane but we didn't care.  Later we shivered on the rocks in the weak sunlight trying to get warm because we didn't have any towels. He gave me his sweatshirt to wear and bought me fish and chips. It was a good day.

All that's to say that somehow I was bestowed with a dog that hates the water. He can't swim like many of his race and ethnicity and it kinda sucks. The weird part is he LOVES the actual beach, the sand, so we drive out sometimes and he runs as fast as he can down the desolate coastline. It really is a lot more lonely than Huntington and the OC beaches. Somedays it's so empty, we are almost the only ones out there. There aren't any cities or businesses nearby, it's just you and that ocean, that thing that could swallow you whole in a second. It's so enticingly deadly. It's a little morbid but if I had to pick a way to die drowning would be it. It would quiet, not messy, peaceful, and my body would feed sharks and things. Overall not a bad way to go.

So today Buster ran, I contemplated, and we both felt a little better.

Callan and Andy

Buster

Boba in Berkeley

Week 7-Berkeley

Remember that week Buster and I ended up in an Asian mall in Richmond with Callan, my co-worker? Yeah.

For some reason I decided to go on another adventure with her, this time to Berkeley to meet up with our friend Andy for Indian food.

Why the hell I ever got in a car with her again is beyond me. I love Callan like she is my younger sister but she drives like a stereotypical Asian woman—Buster was flying around the car from all the abrupt stops she made, she can’t navigate to save her life, she stops in the middle of intersections at yellow lights, LITERALLY took an hour to find a parking spot and blames other people for all of it.  Needless to say when she asked me to go to Los Angeles with her this summer I said yes, but only if I do 100% of the driving. I value my life too much to let her do otherwise.

So Berkeley. Not exactly a place for a Chihuahua, more like skinny, half starved Pitbulls and pigeons. We definitely stood out, the 3 blondes walking down Telegraph together, shopping while we waiting for Andy to meet us from Fairfield.

I’m beginning to think that despite being blonde Callan has this secret desire to be Asian. The first place she wanted to go was another boba store, which was actually fine by me, as long as it wasn’t another Vietnamese restaurant full of hungry immigrants.

Andy always takes forever so we walked along Telegraph, getting stopped by all the bums that wanted to pet Buster and check out Callan and offer me drugs. This was also, surprisingly, one of the few times I got kicked out of a store because of Buster.  It was Urban Outfitters, a store I’ve never really loved, probably because ever since living with one, I don’t really love hipsters. They’re pretentious and fake and despite have great music taste have pretty shitty choice in clothing.  I guess when a tank top costs $60 you don’t want to risk having a dog peeing on.  So we got kicked out, not that I really minded. I wished Buster were better trained so I could make him pee on command as we walked out.

So Andy finally showed up with his friend from Fairfield. As terrible as it is I don’t remember that guy’s name mostly because he said maybe 3 words within like 4 hours. They took us to this random Indian place/grocery store in an industrial part of town.

Callan and mine consensus on Indian food: gross. Disgusting, and we will never eat it again. I didn’t even bother giving any to Buster (actually he wasn’t allowed in this place either) at the risk of giving him diarrhea—he had it once when he ate one of my chapsticks and it was gnarly.

First of all Callan in gluten-free and I’m on the verge of being completely vegetarian. Indian’s apparently are mostly vegetarian but it’s all curry spicy soup stuff—basically nothing is immediately recognizable as edible. But the décor was nice and you ate family style and we all played Draw Something and asked Andy about his upcoming trip to Asia on the way home while listening to Andre Nickatina and hanging Buster out the window.