Deep Thoughts by Gravy Train

Sunday night Xtian and I were celebrating our 3-month marriage anniversary by doing what we do best: me cooking my mom’s famous enchiladas while he worked and worked and worked. Whomever said romance was dead, come over to our loft (we will even supply the free ultra secure wi-fi). At any rate, we live across the street from a fire station so hearing sirens and seeing flashing lights is of no biggie…however after this went on for about 10 minutes I started to worry and went to look outside the windows.

Our entire street was covered in fire trucks and they had a ladder out with firemen trying to access our building. Since there were no fire alarms, I ask Xtian to tear himself away from his excel models to go peep the situation since I have chilies on the stove (a girl has her priorities). He goes out, but not before making sure I have my phone on me and that I put my shoes on just in case I have to evacuate ASAP.

As I stood there wondering if I am going to die (I think we covered in this post that I am beyond dramatic) I began to wonder if there is anything of emotional value I should collect just in case it comes to the whole evacuating/building burning down type of sitchu. I go upstairs, grab my diamond cross that my parents gave to me that has more meaning to me than almost anything else I own, make sure I have my wedding/engagement rings on and then patiently wait for an evacuation call whilst stirring chilies (hey if this shiz was not going to go down I was NOT going to wash a pot of stuck on chili pods).

There was nothing else I wanted to take…not my other jewelry, the expensive shoes, the fancy handbags, the designer clothes, the countless gadgets, my blinged out Rolex*…nothing. All the things that were really important to me weren’t really things at all but my family and friends who were all safely tucked away in their respective homes.

At the end of the day, it is not the material possessions that define us or make us whole. I mean, don’t get me wrong those things are very nice to have and I find great pleasure in a well crafted bag or shoe, but at the end of the day it is my family, friends and a warm meal that makes me truly happy – that defines who I am.

After about 10 minutes Xtian returns. Turns out it was just false alarm but the fire department was being extra cautious because you just never know. He went back to working and I went back to cooking with the added realization that that fateful false alarm ended up being a good reminder of what really is important in my life.

This post is dedicated to my family and friends…who ALWAYS keep it real.

*I don’t own a blinged out Rolex, or any other watch for that matter, though I am obsessed with the tackiness of gold blingy Rolexes and thus want one.

Drools

Times are tough for everyone and it is prudent for everyone to buckle down and save as much as possible just in case things get really really tough and we are duking it out in supermarkets for milk and bread. This means buying shoes for the sake of buying shoes is not prudent spending.

As such I, Gravy Train, will not buy shoes. Furthermore I, Gravy Train, will not pout to husband saying how she has found a new love of her life...in Jimmy Choo...and he should indulge her. Rinse. Repeat.

OMG, JIMMY I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!

And I love you too, Jimmy Choo!!!

I Am Not Dead...Yet

I wrote this yesterday but failed to post because I am awesome.

Dear readers,

For those of you wondering if I am living fabulously in some exotic location without internets or hobnobbing with SF elite whilst filming my reality TV show you are mistaken. I am writing to inform you that I am on my deathbed.

Well not literally on my deathbed since I am actually on my fabulous bed with 800 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets…but I am deathly sick. Well okay, I guess it depends how you “define deathly sick”…to me it means anything from an infected paper cut (gross) to sitting next to a person who coughed with their mouth open (double gross)*. The point? I have a severe cause of hay fever…hhhhheeeeyyyyy**…(I think) brought on from pollen or whatnots (I think) and since I “got married” and “left home” where I had warm loving parents that would dote on me and make me cocido when I was sick, I now find myself alone…all alone tucked in the fabulous sheets with no one to take care of me but myself. *** Le sigh, le sigh.

They always say in the moments like these, when the end is nowhere near, that you begin to take stock of your life. You begin to question if you are a good person and if you done good by those close to you. As I lay here covered in snotty tissues I am taking stock and realizing that my husband is fantastic whereas I…well not so much.

In order to get to where we are going we must first go to where this all began…two weeks ago in the very same loft where I now lay dramatically not dying.

It was Saturday night and I was feeling not alright, but whatever. A few friends decide to come up to SF to visit and since they are celebrating their one-year togetherness anniversary we decide to break out the champers****. One bottle of champers turns into two turns into three turns into let’s go to a club that then turns into bottle service with a magnum that then turns into another bottle of champers…all in less than three hours and amongst four people.

Needless to say that while I saved myself from a hangover that fateful Sunday morning (when you drink too much I find you stop getting these) I did not save myself from a vicious bout of sinusitis or something very similar…awesome. I proceed to stomp around demanding Xtian order me pizza from “that one place D said was good” and then, once I decide pizza will not make me feel better, hop on my non-blackberry smart phone and insist that my parents come see me stat because Xtian does not know how to properly take care of me and they need to bring me cocido…double awesome.

According to Newton’s law of motion***** every action has a reaction. Well my little shenanigans that day enacted a chain of reactions of epic proportions (not really). The week that followed, I manage not only to get both my rents sick…but I also managed to get little Xtian sick. Now what you don’t understand is that when Xtian is sick, the world comes to a screeching halt. Like most guys, they turn into big babies and coddling and attention must be paid at all times.

So here we are, Wednesday of last week and I am on the mend, I take off to work because being physically present is more important than not getting others sick apparently and when I come home I come to find a sulking Xtian…because he is sick. Which means I am now at his beck and call going to Walgreens to buy every medication known to man, making healthy yet nutritious meals that will make him feel better, wearing wireless headphones so I can watch TV and not disturb the peace, making tea, making more tea, and making more tea, you get my drift?
By Friday, I was aching to break free from domestic duties that I hop on a train mid-day and meet the a few girlfriends for wine lunch. I then proceed to go back into the office, hang out until 7ish then go to the grocery store leaving Xtian to fend for himself until 8:30pm. I whip up a quick dinner and proceed to bake…I never bake…just so that I would appear busy and important.

Saturday rolls around and I am up by 8am so that I can head down to the South Bay with D & G (ha ha) since Posh and her hubby were hosting a wine tasting excursion. This means again poor Xtian had to fend for himself whilst sick. After the wine crawl I head to SJ to hang out with my galpals spend the night there. Sunday is spent brunching with Vicky B and Pistol in SJ, reluctantly heading to SF to meet with my tennis pro, then dinner at A’s with lots and lots and lots of wine. Did I manage to ditch Xtian all weekend while he was sick so that I could come that much closer to Betty Ford? Yes, because I am triple awesome. I digress.

Karma is a bitch they say, and I have to agree. By Monday morning I woke up (hang over free again) but with this wretched case of “flu like symptoms” that I immediately blamed on Xtian – never mind that I had gotten him sick previously and it is actually more hey fever. I had to cancel dinner with my beloved YZA at this restaurant I have been dying to go to because now both Xtian and I were both sick, though given my past history that weekend I probs would have gone solo had I not been sick. Lovely. That day was spent mostly in bed for me while Xtian got up (still on the sick side mind you) and took care of me worthy of my mama or papa.

I know that in this blog (and in general I think) Xtian may come across as this work-hard, play-harder, business always comes first kinda guy. But the reality is that he is very sweet and nurturing and does go above and beyond for those he cares about, especially towards me…the spoiled brat he married. So this entire week instead of taking off and working his usual 14 hour days he stays late in the morning to make me tea and comes home early to order me food and tend to my every whim. He covered the upstairs lobby couch with a blanket so that I could lay there whilst watching TV. Speaking of TV, he sat through half an episode of 9-0 and a full Real Housewives because he knows crappy TV will make me better. Tells me I am the prettiest girl in the world even though I know I look like a mess (not even a hot mess) and that he is lucky to have married me…the girl who leaves when he is sick. Lovely.

So here we are on a Thursday night and my allergies are still out of control but at least it is raining so I should be on the mend soon (I hope so because I have a busy week next week with kickboxing, tennis and eating…lots and lots of eating…after all it is the last week of Dine about Town). I am watching Xtian play sweet romantical songs on my “Green iPod”****** and just feel really lucky and in love to have such a great hubby bubby (sorry to induce the gag reflex) and vow to be nice to him more often…and I mean it this time…stop laughing, I do mean it this time.

This post is dedicated to Flex accounts and the pharmaceutical industry.

*I am a crazy hypochondriac and am convinced that I am both SARS and bird flu survivor and no I have never been to high-risk countries.
**You can take the girl out of San Jose…
***And by myself I really mean Xtian who despite being on a cooking strike since the night we were engaged has ordered take-out, washed the dishes, made me tea, et cetera.

****Xtian also finds that days that end in y are good for breaking out champers.
*****Very generally speaking of course and most applicably disturbing that which is thus causing it to change…which is the first law in case you were wondering.
******Green iPod is very especial to me. A gift from Xtian when we were first dating 5 years ago that include the top 1,200 songs of my life…a project that took almost a year to finish.

The Dreaded Ex

The first time I met Fran was on my first venture out to Canadia…a “meet the folks” trip Xtian had arranged after only 6 months of dating*. I had heard her name before, but in my usual self-absorbed self didn’t really pay attention. Fran, you see, was Xtian’s high school sweetheart. A girl he dated for x number of months or years or whatever that was supposedly really smart and also pretty cute. I usually don’t pay attention to things like this because to quote Melissa Joan Hart in “Drive Me Crazy”: “High school love is for saps, or haven’t you heard?!?!” Digress. I had kinda forgotten about her until I walked into Xtian’s rents family room that fateful trip and I see a picture of Fran and Xtian in all prom glory. Unintentional for sure but I could not help to be slightly miffed at this and began to dissect the picture from every possible angle and obsess over it for no apparent reason other than I am a girl and this is what girls do.**

Xtian was invited to his high school reunion, not like a 5 or 10 year, but more like a “graduates of the uber gifted program.” Whatever. Given that I had no prior warning to this, the only thing I had in my bag that was approp was a little wrap dress that pretty much exposed my nonexistent boobage***.

Whatever, geeks love boobs right so I went with it. Well, after stressing about the lack of a camisole or safety pin, I free flowed it with black lacy bra and we take off. We get there and everyone is dressed in kahkis and blazers and like grandmamma dresses…my get-up just does not seem appropriate at all so I start to feel slightly uncomfortable. Then, Xtian decides to ditch me so that he can catch up with all of his old colleagues, teachers, et cetera. So there I am, not knowing a soul, awckward, boobs out and alcohol less****.

So I start wandering the high school aimlessly when I see Xtian talking to a random couple in the hall so I decide to go introduce myself just to have something to do. I walk up and he seems entranced talking to this girl so I kinda nudge myself an introduction. Turns out it is the infamous Fran. Shit. As in I look like shit and shit it his ex who looks like a square but at least is dressed approp for the event. Double shit. After I pretty much introduce myself, I make my way to go and Xtian decides to join me but not before turning back and saying “you look great.”

I mean I say that to people all the time and people say that to me all the time, it is polite and most of the time true, but I don’t know what it was about those three words combined with the wrong wrap dress at the wrong time but it sent me into all kinds of mental nonsense. I never really said anything about it, but that moment just sticks out for me because I am a gal who likes to torture herself.

Fast forward four-and-a-half years later I find myself back in Canadia doing the visit to the in-laws for the holidays (for those wondering the prom picture was NOWHERE to be found because you KNOW I looked). My wonderful mother in law had pulled out some childhood memorabilia for me to check out. Low and behold what do I come across? That’s right, Xtian’s high school yearbook. Of course I start reading every entry trying to find a glimpse of this Fran chick. So sad yet so true. Moving on

On our last day in Canadia, Xtian and I had made plans to have lunch with his high school physics teacher. Fitting, I feel, as he was indirectly responsible for us having an odd yet successful first date in a strange discombobulated way (which I will post on another day if I remember). We opt to meet at a local indoor mall as the city is still covered in snow and getting anywhere is such a wreck. Since I had about 30 mins to get ready I quickly showered, washed but did not dry my hair and applied make-up in Xtian’s dark room. LOVELY. Since we had an hour to kill, I figure it will give my hair time to dry and I can check out my make-up once we get to the mall.

We walk in, I start peeping the windows for any shopping potential, and then Xtian stops dead in his tracks and says “Fran.” Yes, same Fran that I was obsessing over when I read his high school yearbook the night before. Yikes. A nervous giddiness fills me immediately…here I was with sopping wet hair and freaking basketball sized earmuffs unsure of my make-up since I did it in the dark. I kind of felt like Carrie, from SATC, when she kept running into Natasha and the first time she was in cow girl outfit and the next in her underwear. Sigh.

Xtian introduces his fantastic wife and she introduces her bland husband. When discussing where we went on honeymoon he says we went to the Maldives to which she turns to me and says “no wonder you are so tan*****.” I then proceeded to spend the next hour trying to find mirrors in the mall to ensure that I did not overdo it with blush and bronzer (yes even in the snow you need a sun kissed look) so that instead of refreshed look I was going for I did not accidently get the Tammy Fay Faye Baker******* look. Jesus, what is wrong with me?

Nutshell: She is married 2 years in, he is married 2 months in, she just finished her PhD at MIT, he made VP at a prestigious financial firm at 27, her husband also just finished his PhD at MIT, his wife is…tan. Sigh. Well at least I am so cute whereas she is not cute dudes…like at all. Well okay, I guess she is alright, but not like this Natalie Portman I had made up in my head.

Then it hits me, here is this genius girl and her genius husband that have seriously done nothing to me and all I have to retort with is “at least I am sooooooo much better looking than she is”. Seriously? Is this what it boils down to? I mean I am no moron, quantum and advanced math does not faze me (in fact it actually kinda excites me) but let’s face facts…I ain’t impressing anyone lately with my level of smarts. How did I go from NASA interning and science learning to Britney Spears obsessing and Us Weekly reading? I mean it is not a competition…for all my faults I am sure she has her own, we all do. But what the hell am I doing at 30 comparing myself to anyone?!?! Haven’t I established my fabulousness enough that I have to go pick on this poor girl? Le sigh, I will add to my resolutions to rediscover my self-confidence AKA as major ego.

This post is dedicated to Tony Robbins.

* Canadian men and commitment, don’t know what it is but they just dig it.
** To everyone’s defense a pic of my quasi ex whateverness sat in my rents living room for YEARS (probs until about a year ago) when after various Xtian digs I moved it into the toy room. We are a house of procrastinators, sorry.
*** It seems I like to have my boobs constantly on display, don’t know what that is all about
**** I am actually not sure if there was or was not alcohol but I assume I would have been drunk at this point if there was, since I self medicate with alcohol when uncomfortable so I am thinking no.
*****And if by “so tan” you mean “so hot” then yes, that is why I am so hot.
******OMG, I heart her…like HEART HER. Probs more than Britney Spears, but I cannot confirm nor deny that.

Envious of Real Housewives of OC, Gravy Train Trumps Them With Her Own Post

In honor of tonight’s episode of the Real Housewives of OC and their trek to the opening race at Del Mar, I decided to post pics of my own race hats and outfits…my Kentucky Derby hats and outfits natches because that is just how I roll.

I cannot tell you how much I LOVE horses, like BEYOND love them, and horse racing is the epitome of the potential of the horse…the racing, the power, the muscles…it is just AMAZING. If you have not ever had a chance to go to races, please do so before you die.

Invited by a head honcho CEO and his rather fantastic southern socialite wife, Xtian and I headed out to Louisville so that he could conduct business of the financial kind and I could conduct business of the social kind with the races serving as a backdrop for our respective business dealings.

Day 1

Given that Xtian was already traveling for work, I made the trek out of SF solo with my hats in tow. Since I was carrying on my hats, and we had to go straight to dinner once in Louisville, I decided to dress the part and wore this fantastic black and white flowy dress with black and gold velvet peep toe shoes that made me look totally proper and super southern.

This is the only outfit I don’t have a picture of so you are going to have to trust me on this but let me just say, without sounding like my self-absorbed self, that during my layover in Chicago men stopped dead in their tracks and women commented on how fantastic I looked. Ahhh got to love those moments.

Xtian met me in the United lounge in Chicago then we made our way to our connecting flight to Louisville, first class of course because we needed extra space for my hats (a very special shout out to the ladies of that flight who gave them their own special seat) yay. Once there a black SVU waited for us to take us to dinner at Seviche. Now I am usually VERY skeptical of Latin food outside of California but let me tell you this restaurant lives up to the hype. INCREDIBLE. We headed out to our hotel after dinner so that we could get ready for the next day’s activities.

Day 2


Xtian wore a white linen suit and pale pink shirt and white leather shoes all from Boss and I wore a hat from Neiman, dress from BCBG and shoes by Dior…that I then switched out to randoms given the rain.

Given that all the men had board meetings during the day, I took advantage of the hotel gym and put in a 2 hour session that was awesome…awesomely horrid given it was in an open area next to the indoor pool and it was hot and humid. Got to love the South. After my workout, I went back upstairs to get ready for lunch and drinks at 21 Museum Hotel (this place is totally like a museum, modern and totally brill, you must also go here if you are in town) before heading out to our first race event …the Kentucky Oaks event. All of my fillies lost but I think Xtian actually won during the Oaks race…yay. After the races we went for drinks then dinner then bed (from what I can remember).

Day 3

I belive all of xtian’s suit was Zegna and shoes probs Ferragamo or Prada knowing him. I wore a hat by Millinery (for Neiman), dress by Cavalli and shoes by Blahnik…who brought her “a game”? This girl right here.

The AM meant more meetings for the boys which meant more working out for me and freaking out because I forgot my boob lifts and spanx at home. BLASTS!!! After some quick Mint Julips in the lobby bar we headed out in party busses to the races. Once there, we drank more mint julips and placed our bets for the variety of races.

The big horse to win that day was Big Brown (which my brother forced me to bet on) so everyone came out in droves to see if he would win. While Big Brown did win the Derby and was on his way to try to become a triple crown winner (he unfortch lost in the third race at Belmont) the only filly in the race, Eight Belles, that placed second broke her ankle and had to be put down. It was a very emotional experience for everyone who was there since horses really do become part of the racing community family. Ending a bit on a sour note, we watched another race then headed out to have dinner and lots of wine at Lilly’s. After that, we headed back to our hotel to have more drinks and pack as we were leaving in the AM back to reality, sigh.

This post is dedicated to Southern hospitality.

2009 Can You Hear Me?

Alrighty, it is that time of year again when we all gain perspective of our life over the previous years and make resolutions we really have no intention of keeping. In honor of that tradition, I have made a list and checked it twice of those things I vow to kinda try to do in 2009. Enjoy.

1. Stop speaking like a delusional teen. This includes saying words like totes, whatevs, vom, perf, probs, gorge, et cetera. This means I must also stop saying “Oh my God, I know right?!?!” in response to anything and everything. I am a 30 year-old well-educated professional who sounds like a total moron most of the time, I get it and it is time to change.*
   
2. Eliminate consumption of fake sugar. This means no mas to the likes of diet coke, splenda, et cetera.**
   
3. I was told once at a party that being 5’2’’ and 130lbs means you are morbidly obese. Given that I am morbidly obese I plan to lose about 10 lbs in oh nine. But not if it is too hard to maintain as maintenance of a slamming body is key…bobble head doll on the other hand not so key.***
   
4. Utilizing the snowball method I plan to pay off cards and whatnots so that I effectively work on a cash only basis as Suze Orman says to do. I believe that Xtian would call this paying down debt while staying cash flow positive…I once heard him say that on a conference call so I have been aching for an excuse to use it. Once accomplished I plan to put all my extra money in savings…well not all…we all have to do our part in stimulating the economy which I will plan to do via key sales such as the Nordies Half-Yearly or the Neiman Summer Sale…God bless America after all.
   
5. Limit alcoholic units consumed per week to 4. Since I moved to SF I have become a SERIOUS alcoholic pretty much depleting our very expansive (not to mention pricey) wine collection in a matter of two months. It would be one thing if I were hosting fabulous dinner parties or girls’ nights and drinking myself to a splendid stupor but it usually involves me, alone in the loft, blaring the Food Network while staring out the window to assess the parking situation on the street below. Sad, I know.
   
6. Use my Nike+ system I received last Christmas in my quest to become a runner. This is a carryover resolution of 08 that I did not accomplish. Boo.
   
7. Speaking of carryover resolutions, I vow to also be nice to Xtian this year. I just can’t help it, I mean he is such a doll to me about 92.7% of the time whereas I am a doll to him…well let’s not go there but let’s just say I ain’t making any dean’s list with my average. I am like one of those bratty kids on the Real Housewives of Orange Country, it is so ridiculous and I acknowledge that.

This post is dedicated to list making

* This may also have to include the elimination of my other choice phrases such as “OMG, I heart Britney” to anyone who will listen. I mean I totes do, but perhaps this is a convo I should have in my head.
**Well okay maybe I will occasionally indulge because 30 grams of sugar in a sprite is RIDICULOUS. I think the general rule is to not consume anything with over 6 grams so that is just crazy…expecially since you could probs have flan for that sugar count.
***I heart working out but I also heart wine and tasting menus (and McDonald’s Big Macs…OMG, so good right?!?!) so I think this may be impossible but at least I try.