Tag Archives: lifestyle

Birthday Dinners

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Hello everyone!
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Recently, my father had a birthday. I’ve been told that as you get older, it somehow becomes less socially acceptable to make a big hoopla around that time of the year. My youngest students often come in each weekend with another party on their social calendar that they absolutely have to tell me about. These always involve bounce houses, ice skating, princesses, cake… and whatever else you can think of. As a kid, I imagined adult birthdays to be a sad occasion where balloons were frowned upon and presents were things like calculators or toilet paper. (Ok, in all honesty, I did get facewash one year for my birthday, but so what? It was Clinique!)

This year, I decided to take my parents somewhere they had never been before for the big birthday celebration; partially to expose them to wonderful new things, and partially for my own entertainment. I had had one of the most amazing meals at Foreign Cinema in the Mission last year, and it has quickly become my go-to restaurant for special occasions. It’s airy and non-pretentious, a gem in the most unlikely of neighborhoods. To add a bit of whimsy to an already unique restaurant, the venue doubles as a theater of sorts, showing movies on the white-washed wall of the building overlooking the courtyard.(For more details…you can find them here!) The food there has changed my perception of dining experiences, to say the least. Following  our first course of brandade, (a dish I was completely unfamiliar with until I tasted it here), I told my mother that on my first visit, the dishes here made my cooking seem like something I had pulled out of the garbage disposal and slapped on a plate. Being a self-proclaimed foodie, the presentation and combinations of flavors fascinated me. Luckily, my parents and I had different enough tastes that we were able to all order a variety of dishes and sample them all. My father had the sesame fried chicken, my mother the duck, and I chose the seared tuna. Admittedly, Foreign Cinema is one of the few restaurants that I go to where half of the ingredients on the menu are entirely foreign to me. Just pick something and go with it! Notably, this is also the kind of restaurant that will tell you the origin of the lettuce in your salad. So very California. Luckily, the dishes here are so perfectly portioned, I can always squeeze in dessert. The chevre cheesecake here is amazing, as is the chocolate pot de crème served alongside caramel popcorn.  Possibly one of my favorite moments of the evening had to be when the server presented my father with his requested crème brûlée and a candle, which he insisted on letting melt on to the plate for as long as possible. The ladies at the table next to us all wished him a happy birthday, and I managed to capture a photo of him beaming. 

Sure, turning another year older isn’t that difficult to do, but we sure are lucky when it happens. It’s a good time to be thankful for your health, as well as the pleasure of the company that surrounds you on that day, whoever they may be. Also, it’s a great excuse to eat some really good food.

Cheers,

EVA♥

Typical Saturday…

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Hello everyone!

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I know I’ve been a bit MIA as of late, but I’m back this Monday ready to go! Sort of!
My Mondays are the equivalent of most people’s Sundays, I like to think that it’s one of the most productive times of the week for me. Which, by default, makes my Saturdays like Fridays. Try to keep up.

I desperately covet my Saturdays; it’s one of those rare days where both my friends and I have time off, and no one has to get up early for work the next morning. This also means that my Saturdays are filled with activities revolving around my favorite question (“What are you guys wearing tonight?!” or, on bad days, “I. HAVE.NOTHING.TO.WEAR.”), which subsequently turns in to a night spent hunting for my girlfriends in some ridiculous venue where the music is much too loud. I’m well aware that I will soon be too old for this behavior to become an acceptable weekly activity. In the meantime, I plan on wearing my most impractical shoes, not bringing a jacket, and staying out much later than initially planned. I’m at this odd age where half of my friends are married property owners, and the other half are drunkenly forgetting their phones in the back of cabs. Meanwhile, cheers to a girlfriend of mine who has figured out how to strap her phone to the inside of her purse to ensure that this never happens again. The wonderful thing about living near so many great cities is that there’s never a shortage of things to do, or new places to explore. Following a long day at the studio, this last Saturday involved a little brunch with one of my most favorite ladies complete with blood orange mimosas. With a brief interlude of shopping and a quick nap, I drove in to the city while my friend did her makeup in the passenger seat. (Take note world: we’re intelligent, can multi-task, and show up on time looking more than presentable.) Possibly one of my favorite moments of the evening took place at Bergerac, where we watched a man in a leather butcher’s apron cut a large hunk of ice from a collection of ice blocks at the end of the bar. For a Manhattan, of course. You can’t have an artisan cocktail in San Francisco without a giant ice cube- it’s just not done anymore. After a drink, an aerial acrobatics show, and much dancing/running around, we deemed it a successful evening and eventually made it home. These activities are often repeated to varying degrees every Saturday- it’s good to have a routine, am I right?

I’ve sometimes received criticism for booking myself within an inch of my life. I’m going to readily admit that I’ve double-booked myself on more than one occasion. I almost always say yes to things that I’m invited to, regardless if they’re happy hours, dinners, or networking events. Honestly, I’ve never spent an evening out-and-about and consequently wished I had stayed at home. Even on the worst days, I can find a positive experience or interaction that makes staying at home in bed seem like a paltry endeavor. Look at it as life experience, at the very least. I’m going to sound like a broken record, but you’re only young once…

EVA♥

I Have a Problem

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Hello everyone!

My name is Eva, and I have a problem hoarding bath products. Specifically from Lush.

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This isn’t even all of it…

Most of you already know this, but I thought I would come clean. (Get it, clean? Am horrible person, I know.)

I find FULL BAGS of things I bought months ago, hidden in my house for “later.” I have a drawer in my bathroom, composed entirely of bath bombs, bubble bars, and spare soap. Yes, spare soap. If the world’s supply of soap is devastated in some sort of freak accident, I will have enough to last me a whole year. I kid you not. My shower has also been taken over. Because, let’s face it ladies: you have some days where you want to smell like rose shower gel, and some days where you want to smell like lavender shower gel. In my home you will also find little scrubby bars, “body conditioner,” facial cleansing products, moisturizer, and massage bars. Some things I will decide are way too cute to use (anyone remember the Halloween pumpkin?) and just keep to look at them. Why? WHY??

Like this little guy, the Bunny:

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Sadly, he met his demise yesterday, but I was left with a pink, shea butter-y bath filled with cornflower petals.

I find that there’s just something wonderfully therapeutic about having nice-smelling things  to indulge in every-once-in-a-while. Sure, consistently buying whimsical little bars of solid bubble bath can get a bit pricey, but they’re also about the same price as a happy hour cocktail while being much better for you. I additionally appreciate the emphasis the company places on doing business ethically; their products use only fresh, environmentally friendly and cruelty-free ingredients. They promote charitable giving and are actively involved in a number of ethical campaigns, often to the point of designing products specifically for the purpose of bringing awareness to consumers. There was the ‘Shark Fin soap,’ to encourage the ban on the fin trade; the ‘Jungle soap’ to raise funds for the Rainforest Action Network ; even the ‘Freedom Foamer’ bubble bar for the Freedom to Marry campaign. It’s just cosmetics, really, but it’s so refreshing to support a company that has both fantastic products and something distinctly positive to say.

They’re my favorite.

Ok, so it’s to the point that the store employees know me whenever I go in to “stock up,” but there are much worse things I could do.

Just saying.

EVA♥

A Complicated Relationship…

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Hi everyone!

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I guess you could call this post a continuation on one of my previous ventures, “Adventures in Apps.” Today, I wanted to focus on a little thing called Twitter, and the newly complicated relationship I have with it. Undeniably, my experience with this social media oversharer began when my father sat me down, and very seriously asked me what a hashtag was.  This was funny enough by itself, but what was possibly even funnier was my explanation. (Note: just because I’m young-ish, doesn’t mean I know exactly how the internet works. You’re talking to someone who is typing this on her HP laptop circa 2008, next to a copy of WordPress for Dummies.) My ensuing diatribe went something like this:

“Well…a hashtag is, like, something that was initially intended to serve as a form of categorization…?

But, now people just start everything with this little pound-sign thing…?

Because it’s amusing…?

Like, if I put #amusing in a tweet…you could look up #amusing…and see my tweet…? As well as all the other people who used #amusing…?

Kinda sorta?”

I honestly don’t think he understood, and I don’t blame him. I’m still not entirely sure I understand myself and am pretty sure I fail at social media. Don’t even get me started on tweeting AT people. Anyway, once I set up my Twitter account, I literally googled “How to use Twitter,” and then read through an entire page entitled “Mom This is How Twitter Works.” It’s filled with great examples and how-tos, but possibly confused me even more than before. There’s also a poignant little section on Twitter vs. Facebook. Interestingly enough, there is quite an existing overlap already, even without Twitter unveiling its new layout, so that it now looks exactly like your Facebook profile. Too bad most of my generation is already over Facebook. Remember when it used to be just for college students to connect with their current and former classmates? I miss those days. You’re lying if you’re telling me you don’t. I’m sure everyone is thrilled to have their mother, their nosy coworkers, and their grandparents on Facebook now. We love you, but we also don’t want you to see our incriminating LasVegas photos taken at 5am that one time on Spring Break.

Anyway…

Twitter itself is quite an interesting concept, and can be a fantastic way to obtain concise information about anything under the sun in a mere glance. My Twitter feed is essentially all my local and world news, consolidated in one long stream. I wake up in the morning, scroll, and read all the headlines in under a minute. Fabulous thing, technology. Being a woman with varied tastes, I enjoy following news organizations, NGOs, and political figures as well as fashion magazines, cosmetic companies, and Youtube personalities. Now, what I find slightly disturbing is that when I scroll through my Twitter feed, I will find the latest on the Syrian refugee situation, right next to an article extolling the virtues of coral lipstick for summer. This phenomenon often makes me feel like the most ridiculous human being. “There’s war all over the world and hundreds died in riots, but OMG those shoes would look great with this bag!” It’s undeniably easier to compartmentalize these parts of your life without Twitter. On the other hand, it’s hard to derive any kind of meaningful perspective from this seemingly random stream of information. You take it with a grain of salt, as it were.

Unfortunately, Twitter can also be a place where the endlessly narcissistic flock to tell everyone what they had for breakfast that day, or share their medical histories. My rule: if you would not say it in everyday conversation, it does not belong on Twitter. Just say no.

In the end, I’m still not entirely sure what I think of Twitter. It’s been a fantastic sounding board for all of the little ideas, pictures, and one-liners that pop into my head at random. I also enjoy connecting with many of my students on Twitter, as it’s perhaps less personally invasive than Facebook. I was, truthfully, it’s biggest skeptic; yet it’s ability to allow its user to customize their preferences makes it a lot easier for those not so keen on sharing their personal lives to enjoy. If you’re on the fence, give it a try. You can always blame me if it doesn’t work out. And then I’ll have something else to write about…

EVA♥

Sandwich Mondays

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Hello everyone!

I hope I’m finding you well on this beautiful day.

Now, as a former 9-to-5er, I know that Mondays can be a less than pleasant experience. So today I wanted to share with you a little something that helped me look forward to my Mondays in the office, as opposed to wanting to call in sick consistently for the entire week. With my previous job starting at what I would deem the crack of dawn (I was getting up to go to work in the middle of the night, essentially) we had our first official break at 9:30am. As this is traditionally more around breakfast-time than 5am for me, my little Monday routine would consist of having a little food and perusing the NPR website. I always started at the performing arts pages and slowly moved to world news. My favorite article, however, was a little feature called “Sandwich Monday.” Brought to you by the same team as “Wait, Wait… Don’t Tell Me!” the weekly posts feature a team of NPR staffers, sampling the most horrendous cuisine you can think of. They are effectively the guinea pigs for mutant American fast food concoctions, complete with candid, unflattering photos and snarky one-liners.  I’m sure you’ve heard that Taco Bell is serving breakfast now? Never fear, their latest review of the Waffle Taco was both informative and terrifying. I’m glad their brave souls could stomach something they described as having looked as if  one “used a taco to pick up something [the] dog left behind.”

So now I don’t have to.

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(Screenshot!)

While I’m not entirely sure what thought process is behind their meal choices, you have to give them credit for creativity. For Christmas, they recreated the “Grinch Sandwich.” You know, the one described in the song: “a three-decker toadstool and sauerkraut sandwich… with arsenic sauce.” Arsenic sauce was not handy, so Sriracha was the most appropriate substitute. Also featured are beauties such as the Fritos chicken enchilada sub from Subway, the Carl’s Jr. Pop Tart ice cream sandwich, and the veritable Frankenstein of burgers: the McCamembert. Which is apparently an actual thing in France. Shame on you, McDonalds. Now sometimes their features are not necessarily sandwiches, but let’s be honest, someone has to try that  Mountain Dew A.M. monstrosity. All in all, the voyeur and the foodie in me are both satisfied in one go with Sandwich Monday. Unlike the rest of NPR, it’s sarcastically hilarious while simultaneously lacking a filter and any sense of shame. If I can make a horrible sandwich pun- to me, it’s the best thing since sliced bread.

Now, go enjoy!

Love,

EVA♥

Oh, hello Thursday.

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Hi everyone!

Wait…I know it’s Friday. As much as I want to believe it’s Thursday, it’s not. Today is my last official day of Spring Break. I’ve spent most of it in the studio, or cleaning. And, let me tell you, if you’re ever trying not to eat that pint of Ben&Jerry’s in your fridge, go clean your toilet. You’ll never want to eat anything, ever again. Just saying. So, now that I’m entirely covered in dust bunnies, and my shoes are organized, I decided to take a little blog break.

I went out last night!

(Pause for reaction)

In all seriousness, a good friend and I caught the Academy of Sciences Nightlife event last night. Not quite Vegas level debauchery, but I have a feeling that it might have been for some people. By the time we left (around 9:30pm, mind you) we passed groups of women with their shoes off. And something that looked like a three person piggyback ride. I don’t even know. All in all, it was a pretty fun night- one of those rare events that you can take almost anyone to. Throw some cocktails in the mix and you have quite a fun evening. On the other hand, I’m not promising that you will have any great scientific epiphanies. After one cocktail in the aquarium, staring at fish for much longer than is normal, I caught myself saying: “Look! It’s like those fish are on the ground. But they’re not…because we’re on the ground, and they’re in the tank. See.”

Am scientific genius. With degrees.

Anyway, despite this not being my first foray in to Nightlife, this was the first time I managed to take some decent photos, and see most of the exhibits in one go. The San Francisco Film Festival teamed up with Nightlife, and were having screenings in the Planetarium along with various independent film projections throughout the academy. There was also a lovely photobooth set up, with some of the best photobooth accessories ever. I naturally grabbed the bunny ears, and a ukulele (which I promptly forgot about). The results were hilarious, but shall never grace the internet should I have anything to do with it.

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I found a lot of frogs. And took pictures of all of them. God knows why…

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I couldn’t help but wonder: how many times do you think people have dropped their phones in the rainforest?

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A reappearance from an old friend: the Ruby Basil Collins. It has a name! And was still delicious.

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You can watch the fish and watch a movie! It was like a tennis match…

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And, for all my little dancers out there: here’s a real baby giraffe. It’s pretty darn cute.

All in all, a successful evening. Up next, tackling the $8 mimosa brunch at La Penca Azul in Alameda. We’ll see how that goes.

Have a good weekend everyone!

EVA♥

On life…

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Hello all!

Today’s post was inspired by the musings of the Whitney of I Wore Yoga Pants to Work. (Isn’t that the best blog title ever? Even more so because I absolutely have worn yoga pants to work) Yes, this is another “I ARE GROWN UP!” post. For additional inspiration, I suggest you check out this highly inappropriate/accurate video.What can I say, this is a new theme in my life. Like today, for example: I had lofty aspirations. I was going to get up and out of the house, clean everything, go to yoga, and perhaps cook a nutritious meal along the way. So far, all I’ve managed to do at the moment is paint my nails and make coffee. Oh, and I put some blue gunk on my face that’s supposed to clear my pores.

And my house still looks like the Nordstrom shoe department exploded in it.

Oh, and there’s still the luggage I have from Vegas in the middle of my room.I also realize that I use my blow dryer way more than is appropriate. It’s basically replaced all the appliances I should have: microwave, iron, space-heater, fan…you name it, I’ll make the blow dryer work. It’s magic, I swear.

 As usual, I digress. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that this is very much a generational constant. Now, I’m well aware that there’s a distinct notion in existence that the Millennial Generation comes with a sense of self-entitlement and a heaping dose of Peter Pan syndrome.  I’m not here to refute that. There are certainly those of us out there who expect an award for waking up in the morning. I’ve met them, and they annoy the hell out of me. What I can say, however, is that for the most part my generation tends to break the rules a little bit. Why stay in a job that you dislike? Quit. Go travel. You can do better things. Don’t buy that hugely overpriced house, live like a transient through Air B’n’B. So, you graduated from a prestigious university only to find that your dream job doesn’t exist? So what? Go make it for yourself. On top of that, don’t let anyone tell you what you’re doing isn’t how you “should” be doing things.  I’ve touched on all this before. With this in mind, we might not be the most traditional generation around, but we sure do have fun. And, ultimately, we want to make our lives good and happy. I am (technically speaking) a grown woman. I also love sprinkles, wear kids clothing, and have the occasional aversion to pants. I own an embarrassing amount of stuffed animals and live in a house with a purple bathroom. It’s undoubtedly the most fun I’ve ever had. Sure, there are elements in my life that indicate adulthood- I’ve long outgrown the little gangling girl with too much hair and a constant mouth full of braces.  It was hard to be her, sometimes. Even though so much has changed throughout the years, I hope I can stay true to the goofy kid that I still am inside. Like the Amy Poehler quote I stumbled upon below, I feel a connection and a strength with people who aren’t ashamed of being forever youthful. Regardless of age, they are some of the best people I know.

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That’s all for now.

See you on Friday!

EVA♥

Adventures in Hair

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Hello ladies and gentlemen!

I write to you today following a five hour hair appointment. You heard correctly: five hours. Did I get my head shaved and then all of my hair replaced by an elaborate weave? Nope. I just have a fantastically meticulous hairstylist whose technique for the perfect ombre is a bit, well, time-consuming. My scalp does smart a bit, but I insist that it’s worth it. I, of course, also needed a little something to keep me occupied throughout the whole, somewhat undignified process, so brace yourself for some embarrassing photos.

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There are people who will argue that the ombre trend is so last year, but I love the way my hair looks regardless. It may have been a pervasive trend, to the point that L’Oreal now offers an at-home ombre in a box, yet I would like to think that I would rock the ombre despite its popular status. Sure, there are entire tumblr accounts dedicated to it and perhaps thousands of pictures available on Google image search, when done well, I believe the perfect ombre should look natural and sun-kissed. Of course, you can make it your own however you like; some people choose fun colors or prefer a stark contrast, with almost white tips. It makes me feel undoubtedly youthful, and even after a year, I’m still getting compliments. In other words, it’s my cup of tea. This is saying something, considering I’ve worn pretty much the same hairstyle for decades at a time. The one downfall of the ombre is oddly enough the same thing that makes it so accessible: having color concentrated at the ends of your hair makes it decisively low-maintenance, and should you get bored, chop away! My problem was  that I liked it so much, I was reluctant to part with even an inch of my hair. Yet following the dry air, chlorinated pools, and constant heat-styling that is Las Vegas, I had a hard time even running my fingers through my hair. The ends were so straw-like, even the best deep treatment couldn’t revive them. So, despite enjoying all the length, I knew all of the fried bits had to go. I called my lovely hairstylist, Lynette, and was in the chair before I knew it. I’ve documented the ridiculous back-combing that ensued, for both your and my amusement.

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I know I look a little trepidatious. It’s all the teasing that makes it look so natural, I swear.

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My helmet o’hair, as I affectionately like to call it. I have a clip stabbing me in the face, but that’s pretty much what is allowing me to breathe. The fun part is that when we’re done with the color, all of the helmet must be detangled and combed through. Aided by half a bottle of conditioner, of course.

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Random streaks of bleach in my hair. “I’ll try not to get this in your eye, because it will make you go blind!” A little bit of sincere hairstylist humor. A good look, no?

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The end result! Worth every penny and every minute, in my humble opinion.

Am sort-of blonde again! What do you think? Life is short, do fun things with your hair.

And, if anyone asks, the sunlight made my hair this way.

Love,

EVA♥

Letters to Everything…#2

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Dear Upstairs Neighbor,

What in God’s name possesses you to walk around in your heels at 2am on a Wednesday night? The only logical explanation for this behavior is that you are shooting an adult film. In which case, this is still socially unacceptable behavior.

Dear People leaving the theater during the applause,

There is nothing we can do to physically stop you from being so rude. Just remember, there will be hundreds of vengeful dancers that you offended waiting for you in the afterlife. They stand on their toes for a living and are not afraid of pain. Think about that for a while.

Dear sir,

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Were you in a real hurry when you got dressed this morning? Or is this a cool new trend that I don’t know about?

Dear Smelly Person at Yoga,

I’m not entirely sure why you smell so distinctly of a used cat-box, but it’s disconcerting. What’s even more bothersome is the fact that you put your mat next to mine. Unfortunately for me, there is no yoga pose that involves holding your nose.

Dear overalls,

I’m so so glad you’re back. I lived in you from grades four to five, and I have been waiting to wear you again for all this time. I don’t care that I am a grown woman. I will wear you with stylish abandon, and everyone will be jealous of my youthful appearance. I may look like I belong in middle school again, but, frankly my dears…I don’t give a damn.

Dear Fork in my Champagne bottle,

I know you’re supposed to have a purpose, but I’m not sure what that is. I think you’re supposed to keep the bubbles in?  How do you do that? Is it magic? Am I even doing this right?

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Dear person with 10 packets of Splenda in their latte,

The barista at Starbucks repeated your order back to you so many times because he was in a state of shock. How do you still have all your teeth? And all that can’t be good for your intestinal tract.  Have you ever considered the fact that maybe you just don’t like the taste of coffee…? Ever consider drinking tea?

Dear Comcast,

I’m going to go on record and say that your TV service is awful, at least from my experience. The last thing I need is a combination of your dreadful TV service, a $40 increase in my bill, and a snarky customer service agent. I also enjoy how you like to charge me extra when I try to pay my bill. Very classy move.  By the way, have you heard of Chromecast? It’s $35, doesn’t come with an obnoxious modem, and will be my new best friend. So there.

Sincerely,

EVA♥