esperante or o or something

i discovered this place moving the douchebag into his apartment across the street last year.

all i wanted was sangria and sunny windows, so we went there. all my friends made me sit with my back to the window, you know for my own protection. but seriously, if i wanted to stalk i could...he's never in town on the weekends. ever. so it was safe.

holy shit are the drinks good there. and the food is great too. i can't tell, i think it's mostly brazilian?

i had guava margarita(s).

kinky had some coco punch which had rum, cocunut milk and fresh ginger. really good. other dudes had beer.

empanadas came 3 to a plate; vegetable, chicken, and beef. beef was the best. i asked for hot sauce, waitress said they didn't have. normally that would make me lose my shit, and i think she could tell because of the comfortable pout that started to make it's way across my face. she jumped in and said they only make their own and i would like it. i did. it was good.

the carne asada was, eh...ok. mediocre.

i hereby declare this corn the best in the city. please disregard any prior declarations. they smother it in jalapeno butter. and then lime. like, if i could have sucked the husk dry, i would have. i had two. and licked all the juice off of the plate. both plates.

here is me and my first corn.

here is roi eating his corn, with me jealous that he still has corn.

here is me with my second corn. yay!

esperanto is on 9th street and AVE C.


barrio chino

mexican restaurant in chinatown. hence the barrio. chino.

went for dinner. i really like this place, and was excited to go back. coudn't believe it had been so long since my last visit.

oh, yah. it takes HOURS to get a table. around an hour and half we waited, dodging bussers with plates and waitresses with drinks. i highly, highly recommend the habanero grapefruit margarita. after one, i asked them to cut back on the simple syrup to make it spicier. boy did that work. so fucking good, the spice cuts all the tequila and gives you that extra heartburn that i love.

first up was shrimp ceviche. this is real ceviche, no bullshit extra ingredients to make it gourmet. the shrimp was cured and so soft, like as soft as the best most perfect lobster.

i liked it so much i drank the juice like a milkshake.

also some sort of pork soup with all sorts of accoutremants, which naturally makes it more fun to eat.

THEN...he had mole. i mean, i get it, but i just can't get over tasting the whole chocolate thing. not into it.

i had enchilades verdes. chicken, corn tortillas, tomatillo sauce and queso freso. a perfectly small amount of black beans on the side.

the food was so, so good. it may have been the two and a half margaritas i had while waiting for a table. or maybe the two i had after we ate that affected my memory...but i still would go back and wait an hour any day

and for desert: shots of tequila with tomato something or other as a chaser.

boy, that was fun!

broome between orchard and ludlow. reservations for parties of 8 or more.


shorts AND jackrabbit

you are so right. i deleted.


you are so right. i deleted.



on lafayette. salad, goat cheese, apples, bread. blah. making assistant go get a me a burger from mcdonalds right now cause i can't eat this rabbit shit.

very hungover. question: if a tree falls in a forrest, and no one hears it. did it happen? so, like, if i pretend i didn't retardedly text the boy 3 times with no response, did it happen? well. i am pretending it didn't. and i'll pretend he never got them. retard. me. retard.

maybe it was the cliche of a night i had that put me over the edge. fancy dress at a fancy benefit, then late dinner at waverly inn, then dancing with smoking french guys at beatrice inn (lots of inn's, but no in and out. ha.) such a fun night that all ended in shit. no cash to buy water from deli. tried to use my ATM card, but got the pin number wrong 3 times (retard) so it locked up and i couldn't withdraw. walked to another deli. different ATM machine, same problem. feet hurt from walking in 4" jimmy choo's (that ex was with me when i got) so i took them off and walked home barefoot. alone. at 3 in the morning. one block from where some girl was attempted raped two weeks ago. (retard).

well, woke up this morning and i had texted a bunch of random friends... the boy. i also noticed i was missing one shoe. i lost one shoe in a matter of one block.

like cindarella. just waiting for that mother fucking prince to show up at my door. with my shoe. cause all i really want is that shoe.


st. maarten revisited

two monkeys.



eliot said, "i only put it in this much."

she said, "pinche, you said you'd protect me."

prostitution rings are the new blogs.


cooked tomato

washington square diner gave me perfect tomatoes.

and they served it to me with a smile.
and i paid for it with a credit card.


le pain quotidien

or however you spell it. went there with soraya. i really like this place.

(i did have a long, ranting, self-indulgent paragraph about douchebags. well, just one douchebag. but i took it out cause behavior like that is not positive. HA! listen to me! positive!)

i had the ham and 3 mustard sandwich, soraya had some detox salad which seemed to me like a scam, because beets and lettuce and brie is not all that detoxifying.

then a chocolate croissant which made my day. i like this place, the lighting is good, the food is nice, and the communal tables allows for some interesting people watching. it's a little slow, but whatevs.



passive aggressive waiter

this really bums me out. i find i place i love, then they fuck me over. square diner.

all i wanted was eggs, toast, and grilled tomatoes. very very well done tomatoes.

i specifically said "so cooked that they are burnt and mushy."

they come back hard and barely cooked.

so i ask him to send them back and cook them more.

they came back only a tiny bit scorched.

i stood up with my plate, roi terrified i would cause a scene, and asked the waiter to "please, please cook these more. yes, even more. til they are totally burnt."

he rolled his eyes at me and shoved his order pad in his apron in a huff.

this is what he brought out to me.

a new set of completely uncooked tomaoes.

i tipped him a quarter. ass.


it's 1 am. went to bed early but keep waking up from this itching all over my body.

not itchy like a rash or bites, more like these pin prick feelings every where that i have to scratch to make go away.

i think it's something with my nerve endings.

this could be the end, y'all. my body is going to explode and the pin pricks are a warning sign. they'll get more frequent and more intense and then it will feel like a firework went off on the inside of my skin and all the embers are burning me and i'll just melt. yes, melt-maybe not explode.

i am not high on ambien.

oh my god, even the inside of my nose itches. and my eye lids. this isn't funny.

please make sure someone takes care of my doggie. and my sister gets everything of mine. and i want to be cremated (if i haven't turned to dust already) and have my ashes spread over the texas hill country at dusk. and possibly off of table moutain. and a little in the bayou in houson, just cause it was home. farewell.