Berkeley Bowl just blew my brain

Today I went in to Berkeley Bowl, a local grocery, for the first time. It was amazing. Their produce section is bigger than the supermarket just down the street. Just, every fruit and vegetable and legume and herb imaginable, from every place imaginable, all reasonably cheap. I mean, they even have prickly pears. I can make agua de tuna*, just like I had in Mexico. My mind exploded with possibilities of dishes to cook. I'm pretty sure I was dragging my jaw along the floor as I walked down all the produce aisles, because a clerk asked me if I needed help.


And when I say 'cheap', I am not kidding. I bought everything pictured above, which is a head of lettuce, a basket of cherry tomatoes, three tangerines, a HUGE-ASS avocado, a flat of raspberries, a loaf of bread, and a head of garlic (not pictured), all for $10. Yes. $10.

Sometimes, I talk a lot of shit about Berkeley for being a town full of annoying, liberal yuppies (which it totally is), but sometimes Berkeley is just fucking awesome.

Also, did I mention how HUGE this avocado is? Like, really huge. Like, here it is next to a salt shaker for some comparison.


SO HUGE. I kept raving about it while I was making dinner tonight and Kimberly was like, "OH MY GOD WE GET IT SHUT UP ABOUT YOUR STUPID AVOCADO." Whatever. She doesn't even like avocados; she clearly does not understand how amazing this is.


*The prickly pear fruit is called tuna in Spanish. Tuna fish is atún.

Bernadette!

Day 2 Outtake, originally uploaded by bernle.

This is one of my roommates, Bernadette. She is actually one of two Bernadettes*. And she is really cute.



*The other lives in the living room, which used to be the attic, so we call her Anne Frank. Also, we are technically hiding her from our landlord.

The woes of my priveleged, white existence

I am sitting at a strange and uncomfortable desk, at a computer that is not mine (but is, thank god, the fastest computer in the office) and my eyes keep glazing over.

I shouldn't be bored, because I do have various tasks that need doing, but none of them are urgent so I'm having that difficult time I have getting anything done when what I'd rather be doing is watching Mad Men or Dollhouse or It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. I could be finishing pitch letters, or blurbs for the August e-Newsletter, but instead I'm trying to find something, anything to read that doesn't pertain to the work I'm not doing.* I only have to be here until 4 p.m., but the minutes just seem to be dragging, like the laws of physics themselves are slowing down just to torture me.

Don't tell my boss how lazy I am.


*I'm pretty sure that double negative just negated what I wanted that sentence to mean. Whatevs.

Me siento en las nubes cuando tú me besas

"So does that mean we are Chino y Nacho?" Gracie asks after I posted lyrics from this song as a 'poem' on her wall.

"Um, of course," I reply.

"Can I be Nacho?"

I laugh. "That's good, because I wanted to be Chino."

Weekend excursion

I went home for the weekend. It was so lovely. Why am I in Berkeley? I want to go back home and stay out with my friends every night until 3 a.m.!

Anyway, some things I did:

• Went to an aerial class (it's like pole dancing, but with fabric instead of a pole; that's the best way I can describe it), did a double foot lock and the splits in the air*, and got really sore.
• Watched nearly all of charlieissocoollike's videos.
  
• Bonded with people from high school at Mikko's party.
• Received an apology for this incident.
  
• Confessed, without hesitation, nearly everything I've ever kept secret to Laura and Katie at Mikko's party. I might've been drunk, but I still think this is emotional development for me.
• Invented a drink my friend called a "Limey Bastard" (lime margarita mix, lime juice, and gin).
• Started watching Dollhouse. Like I need another excuse for procrastination.

I want to go back already.


*which actually doesn't hurt at all; why did I spend so long being in pain doing the splits on the floor?

Breaking free

"Some guys are having a barbeque across the street," I say.

"Yeah, you should try and get food off them," Bernadette responds.

"Oh yeah, I'll just go up there and be like, 'Oh hey, I noticed this was a bit of a sausage fest so I thought I would drop by, can I have some food?'"

"Oh," says Bernadette, "they're cooking sausages?"

Ew.

So I was walking home this afternoon after going to yoga with a friend, and I had stopped for a smoothie, because this yoga class seriously kicked my ass and I needed a nice cold sugar rush for this hot day.

And I realized, here I am, walking down the street with a yoga mat on one arm and a Jamba Juice in the other hand.

Wow, I thought, I must look like a complete yuppie tool.