OH, G. YOU'RE SUCH A B.

Random thought: I have always felt that Michelle Trachtenberg was just a so-so actress. She has never done anything extraordinary enough for me to care about her... until Gossip Girl. While I know that I have pretty much dug my own grave by admitting that I enjoy watching the trash that is GG, I must say that engaging in the show has been a nice 'escape' from the lame shows about emo kids from L.A. Once Laguna Beach ended, and after Lauren Conrad left The Hills, there really wasn't any reason to watch a tired show like 90210. I mean how lame is that?

So when the world of TV decided to bring back teen angst to NYC, I couldn't have been more happier. There's nothing like following the lives of socialite kids (and I'm talking about "real" East Coast / old money socialite kids) and all their senseless drama. Instead of watching them cry at the beach after having their heart broken, they make phone calls to have people kidnapped, or eat their feelings at Per Se. It's a different world from where they come from, for sure.

Now back to Michelle Trachtenberg. Again, she definitely was not on my list of favorite people to watch. As that whiny bitch on Buffy, she annoyed me. I didn't follow the show well enough anyway, so that didn't help her cause. But on the other hand, as the cold-hearted 'Georgina Sparks' on GG, Michelle Trachtenberg has bitched her way to my heart.

The thing is I know she's got some new show starting up this Fall, so I'm not sure how she'll continue to be 'Georgina' on GG. It would be tragic if she didn't at least make her way to B's dorm room when the season starts again in a few weeks. If I had to choose to watch her as a rookie nurse, or catch her as a collegiate terror at NYU... I'd choose --OK, do I even have to go there??!

As pointless as this post may be, at least M.Trachtenberg has another fan.

WHAT A DIFFERENCE (OR NOT) A MONTH MAKES

Today officially starts my fifth week back "home," and I must say that I am amused at how much things have changed, yet also remain the same. I guess "home" wouldn't be "home" if it weren't for that, huh? I'm still getting used to things again, and in some cases it's like riding a bike: you stop for a while, and when you get on for the first time in a long time, you're kind of wary about how everything will go.

I remember the days when I could navigate my way through the city without question. For for no rhyme or reason, I just knew which streets to take, and which to avoid, and which ways were one-way, and at what time I could go through a certain area. Now, I can't even wind my way through DC without calling someone to ask for directions. It makes me sad, but at the same time the whole "getting lost" thing has lead me to parts of the city that I've actually never been before. That, in itself, is a blessing; new places to check out, and new experiences to be made. I'm absolutely down for that.

I must say that lately my mind has been too pre-occupied with figuring things out now that I'm back home. I haven't been able to blog about anything super random, nor about my feelings on a certain subject or current event, or the latest blurb about whatever it is that catches my eye at a given moment. I could blog about how humid it is here, and how much I never realized how much it feels like an oven in Our Nation's Capital this time of the year. It's so bad that my lungs can't seem to take it, and I need the A/C pumpin' in my car in order for me to breathe regularly. But being in smog-filled L.A. should've been an equally appalling experience, yeah? Well, not after being spoiled living on the west side. You don't get that smog in Santa Monica, thank goodness. But you get the humidity everywhere here... from Ft. Washington, to DC, to Tysons Corner. You just can't escape it.

At any rate, I'm getting back into the swing of things. On the weekends, my Godsis and co. have been my saving grace. They make for great company, and they keep me grounded (and they like to drink and eat with me... go figure). My younger brother, my sis-in-law, and my most adorable niece and nephew are equally comforting. Just knowing that they're now a 20-minute drive away (on a good day, mind you; DC traffic can be just as annoying as traffic on the 405) makes me happy. I'm still waiting to see my nephew take some steps on his own. He seems too shy to do it in front of his Uncle Wen, but I know that it'll happen all in due time. Being around for family parties again is fun, especially when I run into old family friends, and parents of my high school friends who love to make kuwento with me about what their kids are doing now, and all of the things I've done since I graduated Oxon Hill.

I'm getting back into the swing of things, for sure.

I miss my life in L.A., though. I miss that the weather is virtually perfect, despite the marine layer that always seems to make me want to see rain. I think I've seen just as much rain in the past four weeks as I did when I first moved to L.A. a few winters ago. "Winter Storms" in L.A. = rain... non-stop. Lame, I know. Just the other day, I was driving across the Wilson Bridge, and I thought to myself, "How weird is it that I just can't cut through Doheny to get to Sunset, and then head east toward Cahuenga." Now I'm cutting through bridges and taking exits that lead me through suburbia. Again, it's familiar territory (after getting lost fifty million times), but I'm still missing my 5 minute drives to Red Mango, or the fun lunches at Absolutely Phobulous or Mishima. Now I have to actually drive into the city to find something that's Pinkberry-ish, and my lunch options are pretty much a Harris Teeter (which isn't bad, don't get me wrong) and the food court at the mall just a short drive from the office. Fun.

Slowly and surely, I'm getting back into the swing of things. I like that I'm so close to a "city" again, and I'm loving the fact that the option for public transpo (and GOOD public transpo at that) is all mine. Restaurant Week in DC is next week, and I've got two reservations with old friends, which should be GREAT. And there's always the latest and greatest in new trends that I have yet to find. It's time re-discover my home. A lot has actually changed since I've been away, and it's up to me to conquer all these changes. It'll be sans orange bang and albondigas soup, but I guess you can't get wings and mumbo sauce in L.A.

It's equal playing ground, for sure.

That said, cheers to being back home. I am looking forward, though, to my weekend trip back to L.A. next month. Bacon-wrapped hot dogs in Hollywood = a great time.

I AM... THE VODKA MONSTER

My friend, Carrie, summoned me for a night on the town yesterday. One of my dear old friends was taking part in an art show in the city, and we both decided to swing by to show her our support. So as soon as the clock struck 5, I closed-up at work, and headed into the city. I anticipated traffic that would nearly bring out the 'Road Rage Monster' in me, but it was surprisingly lax. I freely got on the GW Parkway with ease, and got to Carrie's downtown office in record time. We eventually made our way to the Metro, and rode two stops away to Gallery Place/Chinatown. While we found the gallery with ease, we wanted to stop in somewhere to grab a drink before going in.

There were many spots to choose from: Rosa Mexicana, Poste, Jaleo, SEI, and Oyamel to name a few. We almost walked into 701, but I quickly realized that we were in Cafe Atlantico land. Its sister restaurants surrounded us: Jaleo, Oyamel and Zaytinya, but it was Cafe Atlantico that won us over in the end. Carrie and I walked in, grabbed a table for two, ordered a round (or two) of drinks & a couple of appz, and began our night. Grilled octopus = yum, btw. And their guac trumps-over Rosa's any day. (Sorry, Rosa!) Vodka-sodas, standard.

After downing my second drink, we walked around the corner to the busy gallery. We made our way up the staircase, and were greeted by a couple of things: 1) tons of people (there to see about 90 artists and their displays), and 2) HEAT. With all those people in attendance, someone forgot to turn on the A/C. Splendid. We were seriously there for like 5 minutes, and then we walked out with our artist-friend and headed back to Metro. Back at Carrie's office, I changed into something more casual, and then we were off again... and we jumped into the first cab we saw.

(PS: I'm loving the metered cabs in DC. Such an improvement, BTW.)

We got dropped off in front of Mie N Yu on M Street, and we decided that we wouldn't go in. As usual, Mie N Yu is still hoppin. The sights and sounds of G-town were very Summery; and appropriately so. Tourists and locals dotted the sidewalks, bars were filled to capacity, and restaurant doors were opening and closing at every minute. The walk up Wisconsin Ave. from M St. was easy, and the night breeze cooled us down by the time we turned the corner at Zara. A line of restaurants awaited. We went into Cafe Milano, which was bustling, and we had a round at the bar. Vodka, hi. As soon as we were done there, we moved to an outdoor table next door at Peacock Cafe. I'm not sure I even knew what was going on as my mind already started to go fuzzy, but the next thing I knew we had drinks in front of us (Hello, friends!), followed by a salad and tuna tartare. Excellent.

After a couple of texts came through on both our phones, we paid our tab, and then walked back down to M St. and headed into Modern, where we were meeting up with more friends. Soon enough, another glass of vod made its way to my hands. Then a shot and a few more drinks later, and the night all-of-a-sudden became one of the best nights ever! I saw a lot of old friends, and even bumped into an old college buddy (I would've never thought to see Phu Diep at the club...! Haha!). The night was turning into a good one.

When we lost our friend, who was apparently in the bathroom after "reaching that point," we took that as our queue to leave. So we headed back to the street, hopped in another cab, and headed back to Carrie's office. I made it back home safely (Thank you, God!), and I laughed myself to sleep as I read the texts coming through to my phone... One of my friends apparently had a very-very "good" night. So good that she practically passed out in the car in front of her house. Lovely.

One thing is certain, and that is -- I am still, and may forever be, the 'Vodka Monster.'