IN A STATE OF (DIS)GRACE

POST-CHRISTMAS FEELING: Crappy.

I feel like a crappy mess. If I had to break it down, I'd say that I am suffering from 2 parts of feeling sick (a stuffy nose and itchy throat sucks) and 2 parts of feeling fat. No, wait... 8 parts of feeling fat. I act like this is all new to me, but it's a song and dance that I am all too familiar with: I get down with the post-Thanksgiving weight-loss plan, only to let that go to shit when I fly back East for Christmas. But it's not like you can help it. When you go home to a Filipino Christmas, you best realize that there is a food involved... and TONS of it. You've got eats during Noche Buena, and while that usually consists of arroz caldo and a list of sweets and desserts, you tend to indulge in obscene amounts of these things.

The food-fest continues on to Christmas breakfast, Christmas lunch, and then the Good-God-Almighty Christmas dinner. This year our dinner was made up of both traditional Pilipino and American-based dishes. To name a few...

Pancit Bihon
Dinuguan
Lechon
Roast Beef w/Baby Bok-Choy
Roasted Chicken
Sarciado (Fish)
Hawaiian-Style Macaroni Salad
Curried Chicken & Rice Salad

There were others, but my head is clouded right now. I popped a Sudafed in my mouth earlier, and now I'm starting to feel the effects... I'm loopy.

And I'm struggling to type this entry.

I think I'm stopping for now ...

So sleepy.

EAST COAST HOLIDAY (PART II)...

And so my East Coast holiday week continued on...

TUESDAY: I woke-up to find my nephew asleep in the family room. Dad was quietly watching TV beside him, in case he happened to wake-up or start crying. I, on the other hand, bundled up and hopped into the car and drove into the city. Despite the freezing temps, the skies were clear, and the sun was shining. As I drove into the city, all the sights and sounds started to familiarize themselves with me once more. The monuments looked as grandiose as ever, the tourists were out despite the temps, and the beat of the city was steady and up-beat.

I drove up 17th Street, and passed thru the National Mall. Then I got on Connecticut, before taking a turn or two and finding myself along M Street. I led myself into Georgetown, and I was overcome with the sense that I was really "home." Winter in Georgetown is, to me, quite special. The sidewalks are crowded, restaurants are bustling, and the shops all call out to shoppers with an array of "sale" signs in different colors, shapes and sizes.

I crossed the Potomac via Key Bridge, and entered Arlington. I ended up at Shirlington to 1) grab a cup of Caribou Coffee (one of my "homecoming" rituals), and to 2) pick-up another bottle of wine (or two) at Harris Teeter. Then I headed back home to take care of my nephew, who is super adorable.

Later that night, I drove to Centerville to meet up with a gang of friends for a pre-Holiday get together. It was great to see the familiar faces, and to exchange stories and updates. After dinner, I headed back home with a pit-stop at The Cantina, where I helped myself to a couple of drinks. I went to bed a drunk man that night.

WEDNESDAY: Christmas Eve, for me, was spent with the kids. Joie dropped off Lexi and Noah at the house, and around 11AM, the parental units dipped out to hang with my aunt and uncle who were in town for the next few days only. I spent the next 9 hours being "Super Uncle." I had to learn how to handle the crying 5-month old AND tend to the needs of my four-year old niece as well. The first couple hours were quite nerve-wrecking. But once I got the hang of it, I was balancing life like a pro. I had Noah in one arm, while I chopped, prepped, and cooked a curried chicken rice salad, AND prepared little meals for my niece throughout the day. I juggled bottles, formula, food, diapers, tears, wailing, and "Ninong, can you play with me?" all throughout the day. By the time Mark and Joie came home, I was done. And though I needed a nap, the adrenaline I found just being around my neice and nephew was so great...

As a fam, we wrapped presents, and helped prepare food for Noche Buena (arroz caldo, fried Cornish hens, and other stuff). Lexi fell asleep soon after, but Noah stayed up for the count, and was all smiles when we greeted each other "Merry Christmas!"

THURSDAY: I got up and drove into Old Town to attend the 10AM Mass at St. Mary's. Mom/Dad served/attended Mass the night before, but I didn’t go with them since I was still babysitting the kids. Mark and Joie had a later start, so I went ahead of them.

I sat behind the most annoying couple with children ever; the guy was a total tool. I love kids, but it’s rare that I see parents playing with kids and encouraging them to act a fool AT CHURCH. Super distracto!

After Mass, I drove through Old Town to take in the sights once more. And I noticed a man coming out of the Starbucks at the end of King Street, so I bee-lined for the next available street meter. I ran inside, ordered a latte, and picked-up a couple of last-minute gifts. You gotta love Starbucks stores that are open on Christmas Day...!

I went back home to take part in more prep for Christmas dinner. Friends and fam trickled in and out through the night, and there was a lot of catching up, story-telling, and fun times to be shared.

FRIDAY: I had a late start to my day after being up late to clean up after the guests had gone. Mom passed out early, and Dad followed her a little later. My brother actually went into work early Friday morning, and Joie was prepping little Noah for his afternoon doctor appointment. I, on the other hand, was getting ready to drop my parents off at the National Theater in the city to watch West Side Story.

After dropping them off, I went to Pentagon City to meet up with an old elementary school friend. We had lost touch after graduating high school, but we ended up finding each other on Facebook (go figure). So we met up and hung out while my parentals were enjoying the show. We caught each other up on the latest and greatest, and then we reminisced about the good ol’ days.

When the show was over, I hurried back to scoop up Mom/Dad, and then we headed home. Mark and fam came back later that night, and then we hooked up with some friends and went to the Shadow Room just outside Foggy Bottom on K Street. Some other folks we know were planning on showing up there, so we gave the place a try. Some of the gang had trouble with getting in, but me and the siblings got in right away. When we all eventually got inside, we found Gina at the bar, and the night took it’s course. Sho’ nuff… We were plastered, and good times were had by all. Despite the wanna-be pretentious-ness of The Shadow Room (goodness, what a joke), we had a great time. And it was an added bonus to see some familiar faces (Rach, Ramir, Cookie, Edsel, Karen, etc.). Gina-G got sick, so we had to take her car and get out of the city. We ended up meeting the Enrico brothers at IHOP in Potomac Yard, where we – later on – ran into a bunch of other familiar faces (Gemini, Lauren, Joyce, John, Brandon, etc.). SMALL WORLD it is… that Metro DC area, I tell you. A fight broke out at the table next to us – where a random group of people were seated (some South Asian, a black girl, a few white girls, and some other Asians --- VERY random, but multi-cultural at best…ahaha!). Black girl and one of the Indian guys got in a fight. Coffee was thrown, as were other liquids, then they were asked to leave. GHETTO.

We finally got back to Ft. Washington, scooped up our car at Siena’s, and drove Gina back to her house… helped her to her door (poor thing fell out her car), and made sure she was inside. When we got home we found the kids asleep in the family room with their grandparents; of course, Nunu was placed in-between grandma and grandpa; little spoiled one. AHAHAHA.

SATURDAY: Got up late again, and Mark and fam got ready to attend the Villanueva family get-together. I, on the other hand, left for Waldorf in the afternoon to meet Juvale and Nikki at Starbucks. Mom and Dad got ready for a party of their own, too.

I met Jev and Nix in Waldorf, and I got to meet little Nadeya. She is such a cutie! It was so good to catch up with Nix and Jev, and so we hung out for about an hour just quickly catching up.

When that was over, I headed back home and started to pack. Mark and fam came back, and we eventually went to the pho place up the street for a quick bite. We saw Gina there, and later on Laya came through to join her.

After dinner, we went back to Mom’s/Dad’s and Mark and Joie started to pack away their things into their car. I started laundry, and started to pack my bag. I said my good-byes to my siblings and nephew and niece, and they were headed back to Lorton. I finished up packing, and got ready for bed.

SUNDAY: Mom/Dad and I got up early enough, and we headed to St. Columba for the 10:00AM Mass. After Mass, we scooped up my luggage, and then went to grab a bite in Alexandria. Uh, the parentals love Chinese buffets, so that’s what we did. Ugh. Then they dropped me off at Reagan, and the long journey back to L.A. began.

The journey itself was un-eventful. I did grab a bite at Bonfire by Todd English while waiting for my connecting flight at JFK – a great way to end my trip. I kicked off my personal holiday week with a dinner at TE’s Olives in DC, then wrapped-up at TE’s Bonfire in NY. Then it was back to L.A. for me.

It was a perfect Christmas… and I have memories to last me a lifetime. Thank you, family and friends, for helping me to find the holiday spirit that I couldn’t seem to find before.

EAST COST HOLIDAY...

It's been quite a "vacation" for me so far. I got to LAX super early last Wednesday night, which was a good thing since the lines were insane. I think it took me a good hour and a half to wait in line to 1) check-in my bag, and 2) wait to go through security. My flight wasn't until 12:35AM, but I got to the airport a little after 9:00PM since my roommate had an earlier flight to catch.

After all was said and done (with regard to security and check-in), I got to a bar at 10:30PM... and luckily made it in for "last call." Ummm, it's LAX for crying out loud! THEY CLOSE THE LAST BAR AT 10:30PM?! WHO? WHAT? WHY? I had to make the most of it, so I ordered a double Makers and diet (Coke). Instant buzz. In my buzzed state, I ended up grabbing a hamburger and small fries at McDonald's before going to the gate. We ended up not leaving LAX until an hour past our scheduled departure time, so I naturally missed my 8:30AM connecting flight in Atlanta. And I hate Atlanta airport because the terminals are super huge, and the hallways are L-O-N-G. As usual, I got stuck with the gate at the end of the hallway. There was no way I would've made that flight even if I could fly. Luckily, they had me on the next flight out (which was scheduled to leave at 9:30AM). I finally got to Reagan National just a little past 11:20AM.

Damn Delta.

I spent the first day home fighting jet-lag. Mom had ordered Chinese and chicken wings with mambo sauce (oh yesssss!), and that pretty much sealed my fate for the next 10 days. I'm barely half-way through "vacay," and I've managed to eat everything in sight.

THURSDAY: After chillin' for most of the day/afternoon, I finally got off my ass and jumped into my dad's car and headed across the state line into Northern VA. I met my fam friend, Marz, at Target in Springfield (worst mall ever), and picked-up a couple of things for my niece/nephew. Then I went to my brother's house not too far away, and had dinner with them. It was great seeing them! It was especially great to hang out with my niece and nephew... who are both adorable. On the way home, I stopped by "The Cantina" --my friends' (Siena and Aydee) house (5 mins away from my parents') and hung out there for a bit. Drank.

FRIDAY: I woke up and saw that Rachel Ray had some repeat show with the New Kids on it, so I watched it. HA. There are some seriously psycho, hard-core fans out there. All I have to say about them is "WOW." The guys were a trip, though. I love how candid they are.

I got myself out of the house, and went to Potomac Yard... hit up Target and Shoppers to pick-up some groceries. (I got salad stuff as if I'm really NOT gonna eat mom's cooking; no matter how "fattening" it can be.) And later that night, I went back into Arlington to scoop up my friend, Leah, and we drove into the city to meet Carrie for dinner. We went to Todd English's Olives off K Street. At first glance, it was OK. My friend went to the bathroom, and was grossed out. In general, the dining area was a little drab, and maybe just "old," but the food made up for that. We started out with an amazing pork loin (basically liempo for you Filipinos). I would never eat that fatty mess, but for some reason it tasted SO good that night. Carrie ended up with the Maryland rockfish, Leah had the steak and frites, and I had the scallops -- everything was GREAT. We even stuck around for dessert: a chocolate molten-ish cake. Uh, yum.

When dinner was done, we ended up dropping by Carrie's office, and got the grand tour. She even took us to the roof, were we had a nice view of DC's financial district. After that, we headed to the U Street corridor to go to Red Lounge. It was highly recommended, so we went to check it out. Gina and Siena, two of our friends, were already there. It was sort of whack. The crowd was NOT what I expected for U Street... and the music was kind of lame. They played some old songs which were a throw-back to the late 80s/early 90s, and that was nice. But other than that, the DJ would play some whack shit... We spent more time going outside to grab a smoke than actually hanging out inside. At one point, they wouldn't even let us go upstairs (too crowded) so we kept "the party" downstairs. We made the best of it. Two things, though, that made it quite "memorable..." #1) someone was walking in the lounge dressed in a PIG outfit; straight-up out of Disney World or something... and #2) Carrie was being picked up by Jimminy Cricket (or someone that reminded us of him). WHACK. After that madness, we tried to go to Ben's Chili Bowl, but it was crowded. (Was I really on U Street?!) So we hopped in our cars and went to DC Cafe instead. We called it a night after that.

SATURDAY: I slept in, and pretty much did nothing all day. I wrapped some gifts. Then I went to Mass with mom and dad... and after that, we stopped by the new pho place in Ft. Washington (a minute from my parents' house). YUM. Who knew there was pho in Ft. Wash?! We were the only ones in the restaurant for a while, but then people started to filter in, even my friend, Leah, and her cousins. Later that night, I went back to The Cantina, and then Primo took Gina, Siena and I to Krispy Kreme in Alexandria for donuts and hot chocolate. On the way home, we did a drive by through National Harbor. So many pretty lights! HAHA!

SUNDAY: Sunday was my nephew's Christening in NoVA. So the parentals and I drove to the church sometime after noon. The ceremony was quick, and Noah didn't cry. Thank goodness! He was adorable in his all-white outfit, complete with white baby Chucks! (Pix to follow...) We spent most of the day at Noah's God-parents' (Abby and Alex) house for the reception, so there were lots of laughs and catching up... and lots of food. When we finally got home I was tired (and tanked; love homes with fully-stacked bars...), so I chilled the rest of the evening.

MONDAY: I got up this AM, and headed back into NoVA to do some shopping at Tysons. It was, and still is, FREEZING! Although there were tons of sales, I was just not feeling the crowds. I walked the whole mall once and it tired me out. Thankfully I scored jack-pot at Benetton (60%-off the whole store!!!), and picked up a few gifts. I headed back to Springfield to return something at Target, and I ended up picking up a few toys for some of the kids. I made a quick stop at Safeway and World Market in Kingstowne to buy the stuff I need to make my curried chicken and rice salad for Christmas dinner (my contribution this year). I made it home before dark...

I am freezing right now, and I'm debating whether or not to make it back to "The Cantina" to chill... I feel like the weather is definitely not working for me. The cold is unbearable, and I'm trying to enjoy my time here. I just hope the cold lets up a little. The niece and nephew are supposed to come over tomorrow, so hopefully I get to babysit. But other than that, I will have to make it through without turning into a freakin' block of ice.

Gotta love these East Coast winters, yeah?

BERRY-BERRY MORE...

The fro-yo wave hasn't reached a lull just yet. I was driving along Western the other night, and drove past an IceBerry. Nope, not a Pinkberry, or a "whatever-else-berry"-named fro-yo establishment is out there. This one was definitely called "IceBerry."

As usual, I did my research. Come to find out this one's based out of Reston, VA. Shocker, huh? Who knew that NoVA would be the home to a Pinkberry-esque enterprise? It works, I guess. Fairfax County (VA) is, in some ways, an East Coast equivalent to Orange County (CA), though absolutely not completely. So why not? With three locations in NoVA, they've branched out to West Palm Beach, FL, and - as I've mentioned - Los Angeles. And they've got one in the works for DC.

I have yet to visit an IceBerry, but I can surely give them an "A" for effort. Jumping on the fro-yo bandwagon is not easy, especially with all the Pinkberrys and Red Mangos popping up everywhere. And the fact that Starbucks bought out PB can only mean a sudden surge in growth. Let's just hope that PB doesn't crop up everywhere all of a sudden like cockroaches.

Welcome, IceBerry, Inc. And Godspeed...!

OH, BOURBON ME

As I've stated in an earlier post, I am caught in the middle of a winter slump. I have no holiday cheer running through my blood. I scoff at the sound of Christmas carols (ok, I'll sing along for a chorus or two, then I'm over it). I haven't even given Christmas cards a second look at the store. I will not be putting up any decorations. And I've been showering myself with "Merry-Christmas-to-me" presents rather than putting others first.

But it's not like I'm being all Jack Frost about it, but I'm not being psycho Scrooge either. I'd call myself "Scroogey" or "Scrooge-ish" more than anything. I mean "yay" for Christmas trees and ice skating in Santa Monica even when it's like 70-degrees outside. Whoopee. Even the Charlie Brown Christmas cartoon didn't reel me in this evening. Last year I almost killed myself for missing it on TV.

I don't know what I have to do to find the spirit within. I'm just spirit-less.

Maybe it's the whole "delayed weather" thing that's going on here. Right now it feels like I'm going through a surge of East coast fall weather, but I know I should be freezing my ass off. I think I am mentally trying to grapple with what I should be feeling weatherwise, and this year it's taking me a lot longer to process everything. Poor excuse, I know. But whatever.

I am flying back East next week to spend about 10 days with the fam-bam for the holidays. I'm hoping that being in "real" cold, and being around extra-familiar faces, will conjure up some kind of awakening. I'm especially excited to see the kids. I can't wait to hang out with Lexi, and carry the little fat-ball that is Noah.

In the meantime, I think I'm in need of making seasonal changes in my drink choices. Even though I love vodka and most clear libations, I think I need to switch to something more "winter." Does this mean I'm searching for a return to whiskey? I did love Makers Mark for a while. I may have to pass on the vodka sodas, and go for the Manhattans.

MANHATTAN (on the rocks)
3 oz Rye or Bourbon
3/4 oz Vermouth
dash of bitters
maraschino cherry for garnish

Cheers to me finding holiday spirit.

THIS IS MY SONG...

Not to drag on with my current NKOTB "throw-back" mania, but I just have to share this video. This is my song. (OK, I don't know about the sob-fest by some of the chicks in the audience... but it's still my song. Thanks.)

THANKSGIVING (Partie Deux)

As the holiday weekend continued, so did our sleep. At least that's how it happened for my sister, my friend, Les, and myself. While people lined-up outside storefronts, we each stayed in bed, and loved every minute of it. I did manage to escape to Target for a quick second, but that was only so that I could buy something that I needed rather than picking up any more Christmas presents. I'm so un-spirited this season it's sad.

That being said, the rest of the weekend went off in a great way in terms of food, friends, and fun. Friday night, we headed into the city (San Fran) and went to The Slanted Door in the Ferry Building along the Embarcadero. I had been trying to visit this place for a while now, but each and every time we'd tried in the past we just didn't get to swing through. Not to mention that it's still sort of hard to get a table there on a given weekend. But Allan was able to pull a few strings, and we were in for a late dinner.

When we got to the restaurant, it was still abuzz with the chatter of patrons combined with the clinking of knives, forks and glasses. The main dining room was packed, as were the bar and lounge area. It made for a somewhat tight seating experience, but that was easily overlooked by the room's ambiance. Large glass walls surrounded the place giving guests an excellent view of the Bay Bridge lit up at night. The decor was minimalist, but bearing much Vietnamese influence.

The night started out with a round of vodkas (on the rocks; dirty on the side), and we shared an order of The Slanted Door Spring Rolls (with shrimp, pork, mint and peanut sauce) and Wood Oven-Roasted Manila Clams. This was soon followed by our "family style" array of fine dishes: Niman Ranch Shaking Beef, Chicken Claypot, Roasted Alaskan Black Cod, Spicy Monterey Squid, and Star Route Farm Baby Spinach. Many of these dishes are typically found in both traditional and modern Vietnamese restaurants, and The Slanted Door surely did not disappoint with their renditions.

My personal favorite: the Niman Ranch Shaking Beef, which is made with cubed filet mignon, watercress, red onions and lime dipping sauce. The beef was tender enough to melt in your mouth, and the spices were well complimented with the lime dipping sauce. This is definitely one of their gems.

We skipped dessert at TSD, and instead headed into the outer end of the Castro to a spot called Lime. There we had more drinks and a few mini-desserts to help quell our need for something sweet. Lime is a great place for inexpensive eats, and decently-priced drinks. The music (a mixture of pop, hip-hop, and R&B), not to mention, was also a bonus.

The next day (Saturday) was not without its food adventures as well. We headed into San Bruno for a late lunch at Patio Filipino, which - obviously - serves up a great traditional Filipino dinner. We ordered Lumpianitas (lumpia Shanghai), Beef Bulalo (beef shank and bone marrow soup w/vegetables), Pancit Canton (noodles with veggies, chicken and shrimp), Sizzling Chorizo Sisig (finely chopped chorizo and longanisa fried with an egg on top), Cripsy Fried Chicken, Carne Ala Cubana (ground pork cooked with raisins, garbanzos, and peas served with fried plaintains) and Kare-Kare (beef oxtail and vegetables simmered in peanut sauce). Sounds disgustingly much for a party of five, but in grand Pilipino style, we threw down... and felt sick afterwards. But the food was excellent; almost as good as mom's. The only miss would be the Pancit Canton, which I felt was way too oily for its own good.

We spent a couple of hours at a shopping center in Emeryville before meeting up with friends in Berkeley for a final dinner at Corso. Our friend from home, Franc, works as a bar-tender there so he invited us to give the place a try. It turned out to be a great experience. Berkeley, itself, is a quaint area. The main drag is, like many other cities across the country, dotted with cafes, restaurants and bars - yet without any hint of "big city" traffic. Definitely a nice area for a cool, quiet evening.

We started off with drinks, as usual, and then the food fest came in droves: Gnocchi con Funghi and Tagliatelle al Sugo (with beef and pork), followed by two pizzas (Funghi and Salsiccia), Bisteca alla Fiorentina (T-Bone), Braciola di Maiale (pork loin), and Pollo al Burro alla Sostanza (chicken breast cooked in Plugra butter).

Me personal picks: the Funghi pizza, which was prepared with truffle oil, and the Braciola -- tender grilled-pork with sweet and sour onions.

Conversation seemed to abound, especially among those of us who hadn't seen each other since our high school days. The drinks steadily flowed, and the company was top notch. We even met some of our friend's optometry school classmates, and a couple of the restaurant's regulars. We also paid the chef our compliments for a delicate, yet precisely prepared, meal.

After saying our farewells to our friends, we headed back to Fremont. The next morning was spent preparing for the long drive back to Los Angeles.

Ultimately, the Thanksgiving weekend was well-spent. Great company, amazing food, a nice flow of libations, and a lot of catching up. There were lots of laughs, stories exchanged, and yes - even Les and I were "roasted" for our recent stint as NKOTB concert goers. The experience was truly the epitome of a family affair, and a distinct reminder that despite the petty drama that we experience daily there is so much for us to be thankful for.
---

The Slanted Door, 1 Ferry Building #3, San Francisco, CA 94111, 415-861-8032

Lime, 2247 Market Street, San Francsico, CA, 94114, 415-621-5256

Patio Filipino, 1770 El Camino Real, San Bruno, CA 94066, 650-872-9888

Trattoria Corso, 1788 Shattuck Avenue, Berkeley, CA 94709, 510-704-8003

THE UPS AND DOWNS OF UNCLE-DOM (OR UNCLE-NESS? BEING-AN-UNCLE?)

I am sure that it's one thing to be a parent, but it's an equally daunting task to being an uncle. Well, it is - at least - for me. I still remember the day I became an official, full-fledged uncle back in 2004. That June, my niece was born to my youngest brother and my then-eventual sister-in-law. That day easily ranks as one of the happiest days of my life. With my friends and other family members around, however, I knew that being an "uncle" wasn't going to be left to only being a mere presence in the life of my niece. I realized soon that there would be more to the equation than just buying her cute things, or planning to take her places when she got older, or even hanging out with her and being the "cool" uncle that every child seems to have in their life.

Even more so important than showering my niece with Prada and Sprinkles cupcakes (ok, I honestly have yet to buy her something from Prada, and I never bring Sprinkles cupcakes with me when I travel back East - ahaha... totally just an "expression" for those who get it) is the fact that I must care for her, be an example for her (although many question my aptitude for that; just because I'm the "fun" one - sheesh!), and - above all - love her as if she were my own daughter. It's quite intimidating, yet an honor all the same. I'm sure those of you who are uncles and/or aunts know exactly where I'm coming from.

I happened to check my cell phone not too long ago, and noticed that I had a missed call. There was no name attached, but it had a "202" exchange. I called it back to see who it was. My call was answered by some automated system at Washington Childrens' Hospital Center, or something like that, and it went to some generic voicemail box. Granted, on any other given day, I would've brushed the call aside. But when I heard "Washington Childrens' Hospital Center," my body went into some kind of temporary shock. Seconds later, I was fumbling on my new phone (which I have yet to truly master) to call my brother's cell. When I got his voicemail I started to panic ever-so-slightly, but I gathered myself together and left him a message: "Hey, did you or Joie happen to call me from Washington Childrens' Hospital or whatever it's called? I got a missed call, and now I'm worried. Call me. Please."

Visions of my niece, as well as of my 4-month old nephew, began to flash before my eyes. I could feel the tension building up in my head.

Thankfully, my brother knows when to NOT ignore my calls (he only ignores other calls - haha). I heard the Demi Lovato ringtone play from my phone: "This is real, this is me..." (Oh yes, I went there.) I snatched up my phone, and was like, "DID YOU GET MY MESSAGE?!"

"Uh, yeah? Everything's fine, Kuya. That wasn't me or Joie."

PRAISE THE LAWD! I could sense my brother's worry suddenly turn into a sigh of "goodness-gracious, Kuya Wendel." Hey, I'll take that any day.

"OK. Cool. As long as you guys are fine, then it's all good. Sorry, I just got worried," I said. "Everything is good?"

"Yeah, we are all fine!" My brother reassured me.

"Alright! See you in about two weeks then! Bye!"

My neurotic tendencies amaze me sometimes.

But hey... it's all part of the joy of being "Uncle Wen."

Right now, the holiday cheer is supposedly ringing in everywhere. Deck the halls, silent night, and all that other mumbo-jumbo surrounds me every day. But yet, I am spirit-less this season. I'm not even ready for the flight home to the DC area for the holidays. I feel like things have been happening so fast in my life that I somehow can't find that moment where I could just scream. I don't even think I'll be sending out one Christmas card. Oh well. I'm hoping that seeing my niece and nephew will change all that. I know that part of my reason for living is for them, and I realize each and every day that being on the other side of the country doesn't make it easy for me to NOT miss them.

Being an uncle is hard work. But I wouldn't trade it for anything.

THANKSGIVING (Partie Un)

In fine Thanksgiving holiday tradition, this year was long-awaited. There definitely was much to look forward to, especially in the weeks leading up to it. As usual, the days prior to Thanksgiving drudged along ever-so-slowly. Long days at work, compounded with tons of errands to be done on the weekends, seemed to make the holiday seem so far from reach. But in the blink of an eye, it passed just as quickly as it came.

My holiday started last Wednesday when our offices closed at noon. Not that I could relish in the time off since I had a laundry list of things to do. My to-do list had included a number of things including packing for road the trip to The Bay, picking up the rental car, and somehow slipping-in a hair cut. Once that was done, I had to get ready for the concert.

Oops. Did I mention that I had tickets to see NKOTB at L.A. Live! (Nokia Theater) for last Wednesday? Yes, I know. I had already seen them once at Staples. But Lesley and I went to see the show one last time. They ended their U.S. tour in L.A. last Wednesday night before heading off to Mexico and Europe. For those who care, the show was a good time. We had orchestra seats, and had an awesome view. The theater was packed, and the crowd was mixed --more so I thought than it was at Staples just a month before. We laughed along with those who were screaming seriously, reminisced with the old songs, and grooved with the new ones. Jon (Knight) got a birthday serenade from the fellas and audience, and everyone got to "hang tough" during the encore. Fun times, most definitely. (But if you want to hear my deeper insights on the audience, then drop me a line. Hee.)

Here's a clip from my camera (the encore number, "Hangin' Tough"):



We got in after a late-night stop at Norm's on Pico, so the next morning we were off to a late start. I scooped-up Lesley around 10:30AM on Thanksgiving morning, and we headed off to The Bay. Traffic was practically non-existent, except for that strip along the Grapevine (which is so annoying). We made it to Fremont after about 5 hours.

When we got to the Bernales' condo, the majority of the guests were already there. Final touches were being placed on the food, and the table was being set. I swooped in to do my part and help where I could. The table was beautifully set, and the menu items were amazing. Among them: rigati (tossed with olive oil, parmesan, peas, and sun dried tomatoes), baked salmon, honey glazed ham, haricots verts w/garlic and onions, mashed potatoes, stuffing, tossed salad, and a nicely-prepared bird --which was tender and juicy. To add a little ethnic flair we had Philippine empanadas, puto, and a yummo "pandan"-flavored cake. To add to the dining experience was an array of appetizers (including sweet potato fries dipped in ranch dressing, fried mac 'n cheese balls dipped in marinara sauce, and cheese/chicken stuffed "purses"). A red velvet cake and pumpkin cheesecake topped everything off. Mind you, all of these things (save for the Filipino dishes) were made from scratch by our hosts, Lenore and Allan, and my sister, Tes. Their work was simply magical that night.

We had great conversations, and there was a lot of catching up done among the majority of us who all grew up back in MD. Libations flowed (I actually drank for a good portion of the evening; I didn't eat until very late), songs were performed via Amelie's "Magic Mic," and we played "drunk" charades and poker (while I continued to perform songs throughout the rest of the night; don't ask).

After putting stuff away, and cleaning up, we vegged out before passing out. A much-needed end to a super long day. But what Thanksgiving doesn't end that way?

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To come... Partie Deux -- lazy 'Black Friday,' The Slanted Door, Lime, Patio Filipino, and Corso.

TO COOK OR NOT TO COOK THANKSGIVING DINNER (CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE)

Out of nowhere, it seems that Thanksgiving has reared its not-so-ugly head. I'm finding it a little hard to believe that it's officially the holiday season, and that tomorrow kicks-off the unrequited food-fest that is sure to cause a spike in the number of New Year's resolutions to be made for 2009.

This time last year I had holiday cheer pouring out my asshole. This year, not so much. It's almost as if time is moving way too fast for me to enjoy it day-to-day.

At any rate, tonight I party. Tomorrow I drive, with a friend, up north to spend the holiday with my sister and some family friends. It will be a nice time to see familiar faces from the East Coast. It will be less fun trying to work my way around dinner without feeling the need to stuff my face as if it were my job. I know that Thanksgiving Day is the one day where I should care less about my caloric intake, and care more about the things I'm thankful for. While food makes me happy, this year I am not putting it on the top of my "what I'm thankful for" list... but I'll try to enjoy it as best as I can. (That, or I'll drink my Thanksgiving dinner. At least I can pee out a bottle of red wine, theoretically speaking. Although... I know it's nearly not as fun as eating turkey drowning in gravy with stuffing and mashed potatoes on the side. Fatticus Rex, is my name.)

For those who are sticking around the area, and who aren't adept to the world of the kitchen, then here's a little something for you...

Joe's Restaurant in Venice is offering Thanksgiving Dinner for $58/adult and $20/children. Choose from brined turkey, roasted venison, cod sous vide, or an autumn plate (adults; children may order off the "childrens' menu"). Chef de Cuisine Michael Bryant is sure not to disappoint with his passion for cooking surely influencing even the special holiday menu.

So if slaving away in the kitchen is not your cup-of-tea, then let the experts do the cooking for you. For a taste of home, make your way to Joe's. I, on the other hand, will be fighting traffic up the 5-freeway to spend the holiday in The Bay. Fun for me. (HA!)

Happy Thanksgiving!

(Photos from joesrestaurant.com)
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Joe's Restaurant, 1023 Abbot Kinney Boulevard, Venice, CA 92091, 310.399.5811 (reservations)

SEE YOU AT THE L.A. FOOD SHOW

The team behind California Pizza Kitchen (CPK) has opened their second L.A. Food Show in Beverly Hills (the original LAFS is in Manhattan Beach). Touted by many as "CPK without the pizza," LAFS boasts a pretty enormous menu which is a cultural mish-mash. Patrons will find influences from Chinese, Thai, Mexican, American, and Italian cuisines (among others).

I personally have this thing against restaurants belonging to national chains (think Rocksugar in Century City, aka "the Asian Cheesecake Factory, but cooler"), but I'm hoping that LAFS does well. I'm sure it will fulfill the needs of the area's tourist market, and might be a nice respite from BH's pricier set of mediocre offerings. I just hope it lasts longer than Foodcourt L.A. (I make the connection because of the similarities in their names. "Foodcourt L.A." was a horrible name. It brought to mind Chick-Fil-A and Cajun Express situated right beside each other in a busy mall foodcourt. "L.A. Food Show" sounds like a traveling gig for food vendors and buyers; equally idiotic name.)

Best of luck, LAFS!
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L.A. Food Show, 252 N. Beverly Drive, Beverly Hills, CA 90210, 310-550-9758

UGLY-SHOES CENTRAL

I love my Saturday mornings. I love not having to wake-up to an annoying set of alarms (I have two). I love being able to sleep in (although for some strange reason I still end up waking up around 7AM no matter what time I go to bed the Friday night before). I love waking up to make a fresh pot of GREAT coffee (because the coffee at work sucks; and I work for a hospitality chain... go figure). I love actually cooking a Saturday-morning breakfast. I love the idea of doing absolutely nothing, but almost always ending up finding something to do.

I had to drop something off at the post office, so I pushed myself out of the apartment about a half-hour past noon. Then I did the obvious: Saturday recon at The Promenade. If time permits, and lately this has been a Saturday morning ritual for me, I would get up and head over to The Promenade. It's kind of dangerous that I live so close to it. It's even more dangerous that the list of stores runs like a litany of my patron saints: Zara, MNG, Banana, Club Mon, J. Crew, Urban, Benetton, etc. Throw in Barnes & Noble, Border's, Jamba Juice and The Coffee Bean and I've got my own personal resort (of sorts). Top that off with the Saturday morning Farmers' Market that takes place right on Arizona. Combine all of these things to make a perfect Saturday morning in SaMo. This is my life. What the hell?

I couldn't help but notice, as I usually do, the different kinds of shoes that were worn on The Promenade this morning. And suffice to say, I think it's definitely safe to conclude that the L.A. area is definitely "ugly-shoes central." My friends and I are always having conversations about how all of the ugly shoes in the country seem to find their way to Los Angeles to die. But bless the hearts of all those who go and buy them anyway.

The weird thing is that so many people claim L.A. to be some fashion mecca. In some ways, sure. If you're looking for premium denim, then L.A. is definitely the place to be. Same with all of that "Hollywood/Rocker chic" madness which, to me, is nothing short of a good idea gone bad. I'm personally over cross bones and bleeding hearts on everything from jackets and t-shirts. Oh, and the annoying "Ed Hardy" logos that are splashed across those equally annoying t-shirts that everyone seems to want to wear is so... annoying. Wearing logos was so high school/college.

I guess L.A. will never be NYC or London, Paris, Milan, or even Tokyo. But it's definitely got it's own charm. But somehow the shoes that come to L.A. have been devoid of anything remotely charming. I mean you can walk down Melrose, Main St. in Santa Monica, or even in Old Town Pasadena and find an amazing set of shoes in random stores, but why is it that no one seems to want to wear those out? Instead, I find poorly-chosen shoes that obviously missed the re-call inspection that should've rightfully kept them from seeing the light of day.

One chick was wearing these red pumps. They were tomato red, and had these ugly white pieces of frayed cloth sticking out from inside the shoe. I wanted to believe that she had mistakenly inserted toilet tissue in her shoe, but when I took a closer look I found that I was wrong. I wanted to whip out my camera phone to take a snapshot, but then my eyes caught another pair. Some older woman wore this half-boot/half-shoe creation that had a panty-hose-like sheer wrap thingy going on all up and down her ankles. I forgave her because she looked like she was 60-something. But after a minute or so I had to renig on that. That choice she made before she walked out her house this morning was nothing short of fucked-up.

Then the dudes. Man. I thought that the guys back home in the DC area had some of the most boring tastes in shoes. The men in L.A. are definitely not boring when it comes to shoe choice, but that doesn't mean that they're any better than the women. I saw a man wearing these moccassin-style boots, which might've looked good if he were sleeping in a wigwam. I mean, really? Was he that serious? Still, another guy was wearing these boots that looked hot from afar, but the close-up glimpse almost blinded me. Fellas, do NOT sport bling on your shoes. Put that shit on your fingers, on a chain, or even in your mouth, but don't be puttin' that shit on your shoes! The rhinestone cowboy look was out when I was like 2 years old.

Luckily my ugly-shoe sightings were halted when I got to Zara. I eyed a jacket on the mannequin in the window, went inside, found it, tried it on, and bought it. Knowing what other damage could've been done in that same vain, I left The Promenade as soon as I made that purchase. And if I know what's good for me, I won't go back there in the next few Saturdays to come.

No more spending, and hopefully no more ugly-shoe sightings at The Promenade for me.

PRE-THANKSGIVING SWEETNESS...

With Thanksgiving (that’s “skanksgiving” to all my homies back in the 301/202/703 –ha!) just around the corner, it is only fitting that people start to share in the joy that is the holiday season. Eff the gift-buying, gift-giving, and crowded malls. The holidays, after all, are all about the food.

Now here’s something I “borrowed” from my friend, Jess Spino (aka Jessie “I’m so excited! I’m so excited! I’m so…scared!” Spano); her blog - “Jessie’s Recipes” - is chock-full of good stuff. This one’s called DEATH BY CARAMEL BARS:

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Death By Caramel Bars


Ingredients:
3 cups firmly packed light brown sugar
2 cups unsalted butter, melted
3 large eggs lightly beaten
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
4 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup uncooked regular oats
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon salt
6 (2.07-oz.) chocolate-coated chopped Snickers
1 (14-oz.) can dulce de leche (found with other Mexican ingredients, or on the baking aisle)

Combine the first four ingredients in a large bowl and stir well. Combine flour, oats, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Add to the butter mixture, stirring just until blended. Fold in chopped candy bars.

Spoon batter into a greased aluminum foil-lined 13" x 9" pan coated with cooking spray, allowing foil to extend over ends of pan (the pan will be very full). Spoon dollops of dulce de leche over batter; swirl slightly into batter with a knife.

Bake at 325° for 1 hour and 5 minutes. Remove to a wire rack, and cool completely. (This may take several hours.) Use foil to lift uncut brownies out of pan. Peel foil away from sides of uncut brownies, and cut into bars. Makes about 2 dozen bars.

This ends up being nice and tall with pockets of caramel goo. For an over-the-top dessert, add a scoop of vanilla ice cream and drizzle with caramel sauce (though the bars hold their own naked…).
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Today Jess brought in a pumpkin/chocolate brownie thing that’s totally yummm-o. And to add to the pre-Thanksgiving fat-fest, Tracey (one of our other friends) brought in the death by caramel thing. Nozomi (another friend) cut me a small piece that resembled the state of Oklahoma, and I inhaled it (mind you, I had eaten two pieces of Jess’ prior). Afterward, I walked into Tracey’s office to tell her how awesome it was, but before I could even open my mouth she gave me this warning:

“Wendel, before you go back there and get another piece of it, I have to tell you that everything in it is super bad for you!”

She proceeded to pull up the recipe to show me what was in it, and I told her I wasn’t even thinking of going back for more (but secretly I was). When she pulled up the recipe, and told me how much butter she used, I almost cried. And these wouldn’t have been tears of joy, nor tears of sadness… but tears of FEAR; fear that the butter would make me double, maybe even triple, in size.

Instead of going back for more, I decided I’d share the recipe with others so that the fat may spread to everyone else besides me.

Get to it, folks. The holidays are literally right around the corner…

LA-DI-DAAAAAA...

Just thought that I'd update. I've been on the slow road to the restaurant/bar scene lately, opting for quiet nights at home. I think I'm secretly wishing that it would get cold. It's mid-November, and there are fires burning in SoCal. Maybe I'm still not used to it after these past few years, but damn. Can I get a wind-chill factor? Can I have a reason to bust out my space heater? Can I wear a coat already? Put on boots? A scarf even?

OK. I digress.

Just to update you (or not), I haven't been out lately. I went to Comme Ca again last weekend, but this time for brunch. I figured that blogging about my dinner experience there (from a couple of months ago) would serve the same purpose, so eh. Brunch was awesome, though! Had the quiche, and it made me happy. It was almost just as good as my Dad's (love my Dad's quiche). That same weekend I also finally hit up Rush Street in Culver City, but only for drinks. I'd been wanting to check it out for a while, and from what I was able to eye (from other peoples' plates) the food looked good. I have yet to try it. (Vodka-sodas, though, were great, and did the job.)

In other news, yesterday I suffered a loss. Yes, friends, I lost my Prada sunglasses while out Christmas shopping for my God-children. I'd like to say that it was a loss all in the name of gift-giving, but that's too easy. And truthfully, it just doesn't sit well with me. It was a loss that I couldn't stand to bare for a couple of reasons:

1) I wasn't drunk. I was sober as all hell. The last pairs of sunglasses (D&G and Emporio Armani, respectively), were lost during random drunken nights. Those I can blame on the effects of alcohol; my mind was clearly not working right, therefore the loss was easier to bear. (PS: I also lost a pair of Versus sunglasses, too, but I think in the end I didn't really like them enough to care, even though I spent just about $200 on them. Whatever.)

2) The whole incident was (is) a real-time affirmation that I do not need to purchase designer sunglasses ever again.

I noticed I was missing them when I got into my car. All I remember was realizing, out loud, that "I don't have my Prada sunglasses!" Knots started to form in my stomach, and sweat started to form on my brow. The thought of losing another pair was too much to handle.

I threw my stuff into my car, and then back-tracked all the way back to the store. I walked in, without trying to look too obvious (I didn't want the workers to see me there again, with no shopping bags; so weird), and I started skimming the floor around all the areas that I had walked through. When I got to the back of the store, I was literally screaming in my head: "St. Anthony, help me! St. Anthony, help me!" Then I realized that sounded too selfish, so I changed it up a tad: "St. Anthony, PLEASE help me!" Ah, it was too late. They were nowhere to be found. And I thought to ask someone, but at that point I had come to terms with the fact that no one would rightfully turn in a pair of Prada sunglasses. Someone ganked that shit.

I returned to my car, defeated, and proceeded to the gym. When I got to the gym at work, I was the only person there. I walked right into the men's locker room, plopped my bag on the bench, and fell to the floor.

I had a moment.

I grudgingly got changed, then went to the workout room. I got on a treadmill, and before I started my run, I had a mini-meltdown. I was literally screaming, at the top of my lungs (and hitting things around me): "WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME!" I was on the verge of tears, but nothing would come out. Instead, I ran a mile in less than 10 minutes (which I haven't done in YEARS), so today I am sore because of it. (I got on the elliptical afterwards.)

When that was done, I went home and drank a bottle of red wine to mourn my loss. And I secretly went on-line to look at possible replacements. That went on for a good few minutes before I realized that I was being an idiot.

I am going to have to pass on the designer sunglass thing for a while. (Even though, after I went back to the store to look for my glasses, I walked into Loehmann's to see what was there. I was close to buying these ugly-ass Dolce and Gabbana aviators when I realized that I was being a total drone, and looking to replace something so material that it shouldn't even matter to me.) And it doesn't matter to me. (Well, until after the holidays it won't matter to me. Ha.)

So that's the latest and greatest with me. I'm sure I could dish on fun-ner stuff, but I chose to share this story because there is a moral to it: DO NOT WEAR YOUR DESIGNER SUNGLASSES OUT IF YOU'RE MORE THAN LIKELY TO LOSE THEM.

Side note to all those suckas who are now in possession of my Versus, D&G, Emporio Armani, and - now - Prada sunglasses... I hope that you're happy. You are stylin' at my expense, and my sheer stupidity. It's my fault, but in the end you're still in possesion of my sloppy seconds.

Fuckers.

DROP! COVER! HOLD ON!

Get ready SoCal-ians...

Tomorrow, November 13th, Southern California will host the largest earthquake preparedness activity in U.S. history: The Great Southern California ShakeOut.

This drill is based on a potential magnitude 7.8 earthquake, which can happen along the San Andreas Fault. Per reports, this would be approximately 5,000x larger than the 5.4 earthquake we felt here in late July. And as reports say, it really isn't a matter of IF, but a matter of WHEN an earthquake of this size will happen. It's possible that it may happen in our lifetime. Eeek!


So the drill will call for SoCal-ians to DROP! COVER! and HOLD ON! The activity will be done to allow us to practice this exercise. In the event of a big earthquake, it's possible that there would be little time to protect yourself against falling/shifting objects and/or strong shaking. It's important to know that the first thing to do in an earthquake is to drop to the ground, seek cover (like under a desk, table, or even doorway), and then hold on for dear life.

10:00AM tomorrow, the drill starts. It should last abut 60 seconds. If you're not near a table or desk, then run to a corner of the room, then crouch down and cover your face and head with your arms.

For more info, and additional earthquake preparedness tips for the home/office, go to www.ShakeOut.org.

Be safe, SoCal!

WOOHOO FOR DEMOCRACY!

So... Barack Obama won the long-awaited presidential race for the U.S. Not that I ever had any doubts. Even though I was never a hard-core Obama fan, I just knew that he was going to win; he represents the new wave of politics that the next generation will surely follow and take part in. He won my vote in the end, and last night's declaration was nothing less than emotional for me. His speech was great (until towards the end when he started to sound preachy. For some reason I can't stand it when anyone gets that "preachy" tone in their voice... and it's nothing against the person. I think I just shut down when I hear someone talk in that kind of way. LOL.), and it was simply done. No frills. Just Barack being Barack.

John McCain's speech was nice, too. Personally, I thought he ran a decent race up until he chose Sarah Palin as his running mate. I think that was one of the things that did him in. Also, I think that he was just caught up being a Republican at the wrong time; the Republicans are in a somewhat toxic state right now, and have a lot of cleaning up to do within their party. Not that the Democrats are without their issues, but after eight long, arduous years of the Bush agenda into play, the Repubs really need this time to spend working on re-building themselves, and re-evaluating their stance on everything. I was just floored by McCain's gracious speech (even though he had a bunch of booing losers in his audience).

The non-winner of the night, however, has to go to Michelle Obama. I'm sorry, but what the hell was she wearing? On the biggest night of her husband's political career, she chose to wear that red/black dress? And of all of the pieces in Narciso Rodriguez's collection, she had to wear that one, didn't she?! Oh, Michelle. Well, she's got four years with us, so let's hope that she will not make the same mistake again. (Ahahaah! Still love ya, lady!)

GO VOTE...!

The time has come, folks.

Get out and VOTE!

At this point, it really doesn't matter who you vote for. Just go out and do the deed. Personally, I haven't voted since Clinton's first win. (Yes, that was YEARS ago.) And I know that a lot of people have been disappointed, or shocked, that I - of all people - had not exercised my right to vote, especially after all of the things I was involved with back in college. But after years of being jaded, I've decided that now is the time to get back into the swing of things, and to start caring again.

I grew up in an extremely Republican household. And while I have always been socially Democratic, I've remained fiscally Republican. Right now, though, I am so over Bush, but I personally haven't been touched by either party (at all) this election season. Despite this, I do know that what I definitely want is change. That said, I'm sure you can figure out who I'm leaning towards. But hey - look at it this way... the country goes through change every so often - some years the Repubs win, some years go to the Dems. All I know is that we need change, and change - whether good or bad - keeps us moving. And moving forward is what we need to do.

Let's handle this.

VOTE!

FAT FOOD: MUWAAAHAAHAHAHA!

One of the things you get to look forward to as being a part of corporate America, especially in the line of work that I am in, is that (during the holiday season) the office becomes a drop-off place for a plethora of amazing (and not-so-amazing) things from suppliers (and wanna-be suppliers). They send/bring-in muffins, danishes, donuts, cakes, cookies, candy, and everything else that's super bad; everything but fresh fruit. The first day is fine, but after a while you start to get really sick of it. The worst part is that you don't stop eating the shit that keeps pouring in. The eating part essentially becomes a part of your job description. Right now my mouth hurts so much from the fake smiles that I give off as people bring in the goods. If they only knew that as soon as they leave me, I start cursing them under my breath, wishing and hoping beyond all that is glorious that they're the ones who magically get fat. Yes, even though it's really me who will go down that road.

(Give me a second as I stuff another candy bar down my throat... Oops. I gagged a little... 260 calories full.)

I know I could easily choose to NOT eat those things, and politely pass them off to other people in the office (who aren't as "fortunate" since their jobs actually suck), but that's the strange thing about all this. Despite feelings of grossness, the "bad" stuff remains.

I hate to be that guy who has to come into the office and shower the group with morsels of fatty goodness, just so that by the time Christmas comes, they can't even fit into their jeans anymore. Sad, right?

Oh but alas... I am going to be that guy. You see, I have a presentation to give to my colleagues tomorrow, and in order to glaze them over at 8:00AM I will be bringing in a dozen (or two) glazed donuts to start their morning off right. Hopefully, by the time my presentation is done, they'll be too sleepy to ask me questions, and then I can somehow slip back to finishing up my Friday. That, my friend, is the master plan. It's a classic case of fighting fire with fire. Only this time, I will not be the victim here. I will not eat one donut that I bring into the office tomorrow morning.

Mark my word, bitches.

OH, THAT eBay...

I'm usually one of the last people to jump on the bandwagon when it comes to getting involved with an "on-line community." I remember reluctantly joining Friendster baaaack in the day only after several friends of mine prodded me to do it. Even still, it must've taken me a whole year before I actually accessed that account again. I probably gained just about 250+ friends before I got over it. Myspace and Xanga came next, and just this year I got hooked on Facebook. I've also hopped on board other sites like Multiply and WAYN, but rarely do anything with those.

I'm not sure what it is about these things, but for some reason I always find myself getting sucked in. My latest stint with Facebook has probably been the best experience so far since it 1) isn't a complete skank-fest like Myspace, and 2) I've re-connected with a good number of elementary and high school friends whom I haven't been in contact with for many years. So in that respect, joing FB has been awesome.

Just this week, however, I decided to re-hash an old account I had started years back with eBay. Mind you, I never got into the whole eBay craze that hit the web a while back. While all my friends were buying and selling on-line, I kept away from it. I don't know what possessed me to toy with the site this past week.

So I started bidding on certain things on eBay, and then I'd lose to some freak-bidder at the last second. The first time it happened, I was like, "Eh, whatever... win some, lose some." The second time it happened I wanted to pull my hair out. The third time it happened, I felt like going insane! I was being consumed by an incessant need to "win."

In the past night or so, I even stayed up to monitor another bid that I had in motion. I was not going to let this one go. My eyes were bloodshot, hands shaking, and I was doing everything I could to fight the sleep that wanted to set in. And just when it came down to the last seconds of the auction, I used all I had learned from my past losses and went in their to do the damn thing... and -- I EFFIN' WON! VICTORY WAS MINE! MUWAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAH!

Next thing you know, I crashed. Hard.

When I woke-up, I didn't even realize what I had done until I looked at my email and saw a "win" confirmation from eBay. I opened the email to find out what it was that I bought, and it was... eh, I'll spare you the details. Now that I think about it, I'm kind of embarrassed to say it. But whatever. What you don't know won't hurt you. (It burned $325 in my pocket, but again, what you don't know won't hurt you. *grin*)

Ha.

Note to self: Do not give in to the self-deprecating debilitation of emo purchasing on eBay (*ahem* ...while drunk. Oops. Guess I left that part out. Teehee.). You never know what'll come out of it.

FOODIE FLASHBACK: UNION OYSTER HOUSE

One of my good friends here in L.A. is also an "East Coast" transplant like me. She's from Connecticut (from the other side of the Long Island Sound), and went to school in Boston. The two of us have a blast exchanging stories of our experiences growing-up back East. There can be a great rapport between people who've grown up in the corridor between D.C. and Boston, and - if you're like me - you'd consider it one of the best places in the world to grow up.

I traveled to Boston several times during and after my college days. I was usually in town for some kind of school-related event (conferences at BU and Harvard), so I was usually limited in my time to check out the city and enjoy it. But I did have my share of getting to know Beantown. It's definitely not super huge, but for me - that was part of the overall charm. Being a self professed city guy (I grew up in the suburbs, but was literally 5 minutes outside D.C.), I tend to indulge in all things "city-ish." Boston, no doubt, has enough for a person like me to indulge in. I've run the gamut of Boston staples: shopping and dining at The Prudential Center, hanging out at Fanueil Hall (beer!), checking out Fenway, riding around town on the T (gotta love cities with awesome subway stations: D.C., NYC, Beantown, Philly, Chi Town, San Fran...), going to Cambridge/visiting Harvard, taking a stroll in Boston Commons, and shopping along Newbury Street. It doesn't have the overwhelmingness that tends to loom over say NYC (which I'm all about), but it has just enough energy and life. The Boston accent puts Jersey accents to shame (sorry to my Jersey peeps), and the city gives off a sense of toughness and pride. Not so much a sense of "power," as NYC or D.C. gives off, but we don't need all cities having that air about them. Boston is a great place to be.

So back to my friend, she and her boyfriend visited Boston earlier this year, and beforehand the two of us were sort of talking about the things they were going to do while there. This was her BF's first time there, so it would definitely have to include some of the staples that I mentioned before. I even suggested a Duck Tour as a joke, and we got a good laugh out of that one (Duck Tours, if you haven't already done one, are these land and water tours that go through cities.). When I mentioned the Union Oyster House, my friend's eyes lit up, and she asked me if I'd been. I looked at her like she was crazy. How do you go to Boston and not go there? She had been before, so we both laughed about it, and she added it to their "to do" list.

The last time I'd gone was about 5 years ago, and we went after some drinks and laughs all over the city. The restaurant itself is a designated national historic landmark, and is a spot along the Freedom Trail. Established in 1826, it is noted to be America's oldest. It's famed oyster bar has been an integral part of the restaurant since that year, and it's been said that Daniel Webster spent time there daily having no more than six plates of oysters with his tall tumbler of brandy and water.

The menu covers all things seafood, and it's prized catch is - of course - their oysters. But oysters aren't the only draw. The restaurant is also known for its mussels and clams, among other things. On the menu at UOH you'll find everything from Clams Casino, Oysters Rockefeller, Cape Cod Littlenecks and Cherrystones, New England Lobsters, and New England Clam Chowder (sorry, Manhattan, but I'm a NECC fan). For the not-so-seafood-savvy, there are a few dishes made from land animals, but they're too boring to even list. The UOH is a place for seafood, afterall.

If my memory serves me right, I ordered the Broiled Seafood Platter. I was at the height of my weight-loss quest back then (damn you, freshman 15!), and I was not going to let fried food get the better of me (esp. since I was drinking like a wreck back then). The platter came filled with a swordfish steak, salmon fillet, scallops, scrod, grilled shrimp, and potatoes (I think; but I gave my potatoes to one of my friends - ahaha). It was a feast for the senses, and a party in my mouth. Beer and vodka tonics washed everything down. My friends indulged in lobster, fried platters, and tons of oysters. And, if I can remember correctly, the restaurant served crab legs that night, and our table was crackin' them left and right. Afterwards, I definitely needed five lemons to squeeze on my hands to get rid of the seafood smell, and I would've rather wheeled myself out on a chair than have to stumble back towards the car. At any rate, the place was definitely worth it. As Chesapeake Bay seafooders, we definitely were happy with what our New England neighbors had to offer. We were bonded, for life.

If you're ever in Beantown, then you can't miss out on this place.
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Union Oyster House, 41 Union Street, Boston, MA 02108, 617-227-2750

SO WHAT IF I SAW NKOTB IN CONCERT?!

I am embarrassed to admit it, but last week I went to see NKOTB in concert. Go ahead. Gasp. Laugh. Make fun, snicker behind my back. Whatever you need to do --just do it. I will take it. In fact, I probably deserve it. NKOTB is the last group I would have expected myself to see in concert, but for some strange reason it was already written that I, Wendel Jay Damaso Ladringan, would go to an NKOTB concert at least once in my life.

But my going was a total fluke.

Let's rewind. Back in 1989, I had just finished my last year at Oxon Hill Middle School (in Maryland), and was preparing for my freshman year at Oxon Hill High School. That Summer, while all of my friends were probably hanging out and doing fun things, I got to go to work with my mom. She, along with many of her close friends, worked the evening shift at a processing center just across the Potomac River in Alexandria, VA. I, along with some of the other kids of my mom's friends, went into work each night, doing whatever kind of stuff was legal enough for kids (as young as we were) to do. The lame thing was that while my friends would go into work like 2 or 3 nights out of the week, my mom decided that I would have to go 5 nights of the week. She wouldn't have it otherwise, and I couldn't throw a tantrum about it or else she'd shoot me "the look," and it would be all over. I hated every minute of it. I hated going into the office at 4PM, and not going home until midnight. It wasn't fair on so many levels, but it was absolutely fair in my mom's eyes. My only consolation was that I had complete control of the car radio on the quiet drive home. I remember one night, for the first time, I heard a song called "Please Don't Go Girl," which featured an almost baby-sounding kid on leads. The group, I later found out, was called New Kids On the Block, and the song sort of became my solace during that boring ass Summer that I had to go into work with my mom each night of the week.
NKOTB then...

NKOTB now...

Soon enough, the craze over this "boy band" started to pick-up, and more of their songs were hitting the airwaves. While I appreciated the songs (for the most part), there was something annoying about the New Kids. All of a sudden they were everywhere. Their songs played on loop on several radio stations all the time, and their images were plastered all over the malls. It was a bit much. For the most part, me and a few of my friends were not on board, choosing to instead follow the music and careers of Janet Jackson, Paula Abdul, or whoever else was "in" back in the day. The New Kids were more for my younger sister and brother's wave of friends. But for some strange reason, I knew their songs... sort of how I somehow know songs by Celine Dion, but find her completely annoying.

And I sort of knew the personas of each of the guys: Joey was the "baby" of the group, Jordan was the "star," Donnie was the "bad boy," Danny was the "muscle," and then there was Jon -- the "quiet/shy one." I mean even if you didn't follow them, you definitely knew who they were, and what they sang.

They were going strong for a good couple of years, then all of a sudden the madness just stopped. I, personally, didn't really know what happened. But by my freshman year in college, the New Kids were headed towards "extinction." Just as quickly as they had brushed onto the scene, they were out. After graduating college, I remember both Jordan and Joey Mac embarking on solo careers along with the teen pop boom (Backstreet Boys, N'Sync, Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Mandy Moore, etc.). Donnie was already making movies and TV shows, with a memorable part in The Sixth Sense. But I had no idea what Danny or Jonathan were up to, nor did I actually care.

Then in 2001, I remember coming home from work and plopping in front of the TV to watch Oprah (something I did every day for a good few months straight), and she featured Jon and Jordan on a show about anxiety disorders. I remember the feeling I got when I saw that show: shock. I had no idea that Jon had been suffering from anxiety, and seeing him on the show really made me feel for the guy. It seemed somewhat painful to be him at that moment, and I instantaneously started to feel bad about thinking all those lame things I thought about the New Kids, or NKTOB.

But I got over it. I still felt bad for Jon, but I totally got over it. And again, they sort of slipped away from the limelight. In the years that followed, I would hear random things about Donnie being on Boomtown, which didn't last too long (but was a good show, to his credit); Joey played 'Fiyero' in Wicked, and was also on Dancing With the Stars; and Jordan had a quick stint on The Surreal Life. But again, all these things came and went so quickly that I just didn't get to pay them any mind.

Fast forward to 2008. So I heard that NKOTB was coming back with a brand new album, and were going on tour. I didn't even think much about it at the time. One of my roommates, who was (is) an avid fan, sent a bunch of us an email asking who would be interested in seeing their concert at Staples Center in October. I was so not one of the people who bit; I was not the least bit interested. But soon enough, two of my roommate's friends had to back out at the last minute, and she was out two tickets. She asked me if I wanted to go, but I still wasn't interested. But since I was just coming down from a high after seeing Janet Jackson's concert at Staples, I decided to do her a favor and take one of the extra tickets. I remember the day the concert came, I was so not in the mood. I didn't want to go. But I kept my word, and went with the gang; five of us in all: Anna, Lesley, Maria, Alex (thank goodness there was another guy), and myself... symbolically (they pointed out; the fans that they are) "perfect" since there are five "new kids." Great. All I needed was alcohol to get me through the night.

So there I was... one of a few guys (actually, there were a lot more than I expected) amongst a sea of 30/40-something-year-old women who were still hard-core fans of NKOTB. I actually found them to be endearing, and I started to get feelings of nostalgia about "the good old days" when we were young, and life was simpler. I remembered those nights I'd go to work with my mom, and I'd listen to "Please Don't Go Girl" on the car radio. Once the lights dimmed, and the video-tron started to go off, the Staples Center became ablazed with screaming fans jumping up and down, clapping their hands, shouting from the top of their lungs... and then it started. The guys came out with the same old swagger, but with so much more maturity. Goosebumps actually started to form on my arms. I couldn't explain the phenomenon.

They started the show with their new single, ironically entitled "Single," which they actually do with Ne-Yo on their album. It was the perfect song to start the evening, and the moment Joey Mac started with the vocals, the crowd went wild. Like clockwork, Jordan and Donnie filled in the additional main vocals, with Danny and Jon doing their parts. The concert then took a life of its own from that point on, and the gang went through all of their old hits, with new songs performed in-between. They still had it. Their energy level was totally high, but not oozing with too much teeny-bopper annoyingness (which I remember from back in the day). To their credit, they were pretty awesome for guys who are in their mid to upper 30s. Aside from aging very well (the Knight brothers both aging extremely well actually), they were hittin' their dance steps, and singing their notes, and performing much to the delight of their devoted fans.

I couldn't help but feel sort of proud. The whole experience was a throw-back to my generation of youth. The whole time I kept thinking about how my generation had the best toys, the best TV shows, the not-so-best clothes and hairstyles, but definitely the best music. And I have to admit that NKOTB was definitely a part of that. I felt that the guys made their comeback at the right time; doing things on their own terms, and doing it out of their love for their craft - not so much for the fame.

As a guy who easily came to appreciate the Backstreet Boys and N'Sync, I couldn't help but realize that those boy bands that came later would be nothing without NKOTB. NKOTB came about at a time when my generation needed something like them most. They were (are) the Beatles of my generation, and that was evident that night at Staples Center.

I actually left the concert with a new-found respect for the guys, and a deeper appreciation for their contribution to pop culture. I also caught the VH1 Behind the Music special on them, and that's where I really got to figure out what the guys experienced during their hey-dey. To know that it wasn't cake-walk for them, and to see how much they've accomplished on their own (getting married, having kids, starting their own companies) only added to my new-found respect. I think this time around, NKOTB has actually "arrived." They definitely have nothing to lose.

While I still can't believe that I went to their concert, I'm glad that I did. I honestly feel like those who missed out, really missed out on something special. It was an opportunity to re-live those days when we could be absolutely care-free, and the memories that it brought about totally made me sit back and smile... a lot.

So there. I am now a fan. Admitting so is the first step (by step... HA.).