California girls are undeniable

Somehow, I managed to start this blog during an “adventurous Stephane who leaves the house,” phase. Practically every post is set in a different city and I’m doing something other than watching moving pictures flicker across a screen.

I assure you, this is all temporary. I really am an introverted homebody. When this phase passes, all my posts will be about how I sit alone thinking deep thoughts, like…what I would do if my car were yanked out of traffic by a helicopter with a giant dangling magnet. I’d probably jump out if I realized right away what was happening; but, if I hesitated due to shock, I’d stay inside and see where the magnet was taking me. Oh crap, now I’ve just squandered a perfectly good post as an aside in another post. Everybody pretend like you didn’t read all that!

Anyway, I will admit that you might not believe that I was a shy anti-social wallflower, if you’d seen me on Sunday high fiving strangers in the Qualcomm parking lot after the Patriots victory over San Diego. I think I was also running around drinking in the sorrow of Chargers fans.

No, seriously. I’d laugh and bellow that their misery was delicious. In addition to introverted and homebody, I am also an asshole. That, sadly, is not a phase.

Anyhoo… So yeah, I was in Southern California for the weekend! A few months ago the Notorious L.I.G (I think she likes it when you call her Big Poppa), was taunting me on twitter about having tickets to the Patriots/Chargers game. She said she was going with her wife, Vero, her Jets fan friend Nancy and Nancy’s Patriots fan sister. I was all “boooo….I wanna go! I wanna go!” She said they did have an extra ticket, so I invited myself along!

I packed as much Patriots gear as I could fit in my carryon, though I did leave my Liberace sneakers at home because I didn’t want them to get beered. I flew into Los Angeles Saturday morning. Randomly, I got a text from F-train, as soon as I landed. He has been threatening my life for the past month and a half because I made him watch the video of the drunk one-legged guy. I protested that I didn’t make him *do* anything. He chose to hit play of his own free will. He responded “I kill you.” So, when I got his text I was all “whoa…trippy…how’d you know my plane just landed?” But I wasn’t too worried. He was in Northern California at some dude’s wedding getting sloshed on something called “The Groom.” I know, they write themselves.

The Notorious L.I.G picked me up at the airport. We drove back to her house in the windy (not air, zig zaggy inclined roads (whine-dee)) hills of Los Angeles to pick up Vero for lunch. Their house is ginormous! They have a pool and two bathrooms, and all New Yorkers will appreciate this: a washer and dryer INSIDE! Oh, and when I was there, they were all “excuse the mess, we’re adding a rec room to the back of the house!” They’re gonna have a 100 inch flatscreen wired with a sound system so you can hear the game from the pool and barbecue grill area.

Yes, I’m moving in with them. Congratulations, ladies! It’s a girl!

We had lunch at Rosa Mexicano, and by lunch, I mean pitchers and pitchers of sparkling sangria and guacamole.

LIG’s boss is an Auburn fan, so we were spite rooting for LSU. We spite rooted Auburn right into the number 1 spot in the BCS. (Dawn does not know what any of the words in that sentence mean. Well, except spite, she understands spite.)

Surprise surprise, I don’t really remember lunch all that clearly, except the waiter kept asking us if we were “ready to order something to eat,” and we’d say ” sangria!” And then “and guacamole!”

Oh and my college roommate, Elena, drove in from Riverside!


She then regaled LIG and Vero with tales of my carefree by-gone college days. Like how, in freshman year, we put together a handmade goodbye card out of construction paper and glitter, for our marching band leader, during his senior year. We looked up his address in the facebook (which, in those days, was actually made out of paper and was an actual book!), rode our bikes over to his dorm, knocked on his door, then panicked, dropped the card out front, pedaled back to our room and decided we pretty much had to change our names and drop out of school. Well, or kill ourselves. Then, we pointed fingers over whose fault it was, ultimately deciding it was our roommate Binda’s fault because she was the responsible one and should never have left us unsupervised with glitter and glue!

Oh, and also how freshman year, I would only eat rice krispie treats which I made myself by melting the marshmallows from the hot chocolate station in the microwave and mixing in the rice krispie cereal from the breakfast station.

LIG is laughing her face off and goes “Rice krispie treats? Glitter? Dude! Seriously, are you black? At all? Even a little bit?”

Then Vero adds “My niece says glitter is the herpes of arts and crafts.”

Which just may be the most awesome sentence ever uttered by a 12-year-old.

Lunch was fun and awesome, I think I was supposed to give Elena LIG’s contact info on facebook, but as she only got through freshman year stories and already I am being mocked, I’m not opening myself up to three more years of humiliating Stephane college stories. No sirree, Bob!

After lunch, we drove around, what LIG calls “real LA.” Street vendors, grafittied bodegas, a pig slaughterhouse. I totally thought of Mary! Look how happy the pigs in the slaughterhouse are!


We drove by the LA “river” and had dessert at a real Mexican paleteria. I got all sad when we drove by a Roy’s because New York, apparently, doesn’t have a Roy’s anymore. Stupid terrorists. I told LIG that I missed their molten chocolate cake. She foolishly told me that such cakes can be purchased in the frozen food section at gourmet stores in LA. This led to thirty-three minutes of nonstop “Can we go to the gourmet store? Can we go to the gourmet store? Can we go to the gourmet store? Can we go to the gourmet store? Can we go to the gourmet store? Can we go to the gourmet store?” until we reached the gourmet store parking lot.

No, you can’t take me anywhere.

We spent the rest of the night watching college football and baking chocolate cakes in the oven. Vero and LIG went to sleep early and I stayed up watching…who knows what. I was psyched about the game, so I was inexplicably up at 6 in the morning. This was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes in the middle of the night:


No bueno.

I started reading twitter and saw F-train and Pauly tweeting about regretting staying up all-night. I texted F-train that I was wide awake and was going to see Tom Brady. I added “nanana” And “I’m so much better than you!” He did not respond. #RUDE

When everyone was finally up, we piled into the car, got double visual verification that we had our tickets and we were off! I had never been to a Winchell’s before, so we then promptly stopped for donuts. The place smelled sooo delicious, I ran toward it with open arms and danced around once inside. I got the most awesome” chocolate glaze donut with chocolate frosting topped with candy corn.


For breakfast.

We picked up Nancy’s sister, Dana, and headed for San Diego. San Diego was very very very far away.

“Are we there yet?”

“Yes. Get out.”

“Are we there yet?”


“Are we there yet, NOW?”

I was wearing my Brady jersey and Dana was wearing her “three time superbowl champions” hat. Though, LIG said it would probably be too hot for her to wear it once we got to San Diego. LA, on the other hand, was cold as all get out. I want you all to know that California is a LIE!

When we finally got to Qualcomm, I saw hundreds of Patriots fans! There were Brady jerseys EVERYWHERE! MY PEOPLE! I was running around saying “Woo Brady” and sending mocking tweets about the Chargers. I’m walking behind everyone else and not paying attention because I’m on my Droid and then they all suddenly stop, I look up and AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH:

Oh yes, I screamed. LIG laughed and laughed.


We went inside, F-train bought us lunch, LIG tried to buy margaritas, but it was 11:13 and the guy said he wasn’t allowed to sell alcohol until 11:30.

She gave him this face: O_O

Finally, after arguing with him until 11:15, she decided to buy a pepsi. But then the register wouldn’t work and she had to switch to another line. At about 11:20, when they still couldn’t ring up her soda for some reason, she yelled “OH FORGET IT! I JUST WANTED A MARGARITA!” It was sorta kinda hilarious.

LIG and F-train are Jets fans, so they spent the game rooting for the Chargers just to anger me. Luckily, the Chargers stink and so the Patriots were leading for 99% of the game. We were chatting and (eventually) drinking beer and margaritas. At one point, I’m talking to F-train and LIG and they both suddenly look off in the distance. I turn around and watch their heads follow this braless chick who is wearing a slutty low-cut blouse up the stairs.


LIG comments that she keeps trying to be a “wing woman.” Whatever THAT means! O_o.

The day was going swimmingly. My section was actually full of Riots fans and so we were cheering real loud for every Patriots field goal. (Sadly, Tom Brady was not in a touchdown throwing mood. I brought my flip cam and kept rolling as the Patriots marched down the field toward us (we were sitting behind the goal posts). I wanted to capture touchdown drive on film. But no. Not to be.) This one Chargers guy behind us yells “I hate the Patriots!”

Dana responded “WHO CARES?” And then we high fived.

However, the happy good laughing times suddenly came to a crashing halt when the stupid Chargers managed to score back to back touchdowns in the last quarter. I was sickened. First off, my opponent in Fantasy had the Chargers quarterback, Rivers, on his team. For three quarters, the Patriots held him to like 3 points, which was awesome because MY fantasy quarterback, Drew Brees, was getting his ass handed to him BY the Browns. That’s right: CLEVELAND. The town whose only good thing took his talents to South Beach!

Arrgghh! Suddenly, I was watching my fantasy week circle the drain AND my beloved Patriots on the verge of losing a game in the final minutes.

F-train captured the moment:

However, we held on to our three point lead when the Chargers kicker shanked the game tying field goal off the upright! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! I was dancing and celebrating! I texted young Wygant right away and he was also very happy about the result:

Though, why he wasn’t wearing his Patriots outfit on gameday…curious. We left the stadium to take F-train to the airport. Apparently, he actually WAS in Northern California at a wedding and took a prop plane AND two trains down in order to get to the game. He loovvveeessss meeeeee and would neevvveerrrr kiillll meeeeeee:


LIG got us out of that parking lot and onto the highway faster than I have EVER gotten out of a parking lot after a sporting event. Sure, she almost set the car on fire by driving in the wrong gear and EXPLODING the engine — BUT SHE DID IT QUICKLY!

We headed back LA, blood returned to my face and I started to breathe normally again after my Patriots collapsing induced heart attack.

Ah, a win is a win is a win!

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16 Responses to California girls are undeniable

  1. Pingback: Clareified » Blog Archive » Pictures

  2. F-Train says:

    I love it when a plan comes together. I wish I had been videoing your reaction. Who knew you could jump so high!

  3. Stephane says:

    Don’t think I’m not reporting you for using twitter to trick me! Your tweeting privileges will be revoked! REVOKED!

  4. Helen says:

    Hummhh…that sangria pitcher looks tiny in the picture. In reality, it was HUGE. I was wondering why you ladies hardly had any food- how many pitchers of sangria did you have??
    You never had Winchells? I still prefer Krispy Kreme.
    So, the Chargers lost, but hey Cloud Diego has Roy’s :)))..

  5. Stephane says:

    Yes…that does seem fair. I shouldnt have an awesome football team AND Roy’s!

  6. notoriouslig says:

    We have two Roy’s!! But they don’t have guacamole.

  7. Ugarles says:

    Sounds like Vero’s niece is a Demitri Martin fan. Or do I mean Mike Barnicle fan?

    Yes I did fact-check a 12 year old. WHAT OF IT?

  8. pearatty says:

    This post has everything! Suprise twists, suspense, braless chicks, happy babies.

    Sigh. I remember when you used to visit me when I lived in California. Silly me, I thought you were visiting *me*.

    So if I get tickets to a Patriots game, you will come visit? But wait, now I see that the Cardinals are not playing the Patriots this year. How can that be? How do you know who’s the best team that should be in the Superbowl if everyone hasn’t played everyone?

  9. Stephane says:

    haahah Each team will play every other team over the course of a four year cycle. Superbowl appearances are based on season records and then the playoffs, so the best teams from each conference, meet to settle which conference is best of all. The cardinals’ best quarterback is now dancing with the stars, so it’ll be a cold cold day in arizona before the cardinals get back to the superbowl.

  10. Stephane says:

    But yes, if ever you find yourself with cardinals v. patriots tickets, i will be there! I’ll also be there should one of our little sisters find herself getting married. 🙂

  11. Ugarles says:

    If you go to see Cardinals – Patriots, don’t forget your papers.

  12. Stephane says:

    I may be latina, but I look black. And I’ll be hiding behind a white, male baby.

  13. F-Train says:

    You’ll be hiding behind a white male baby? I’m pretty sure they’ll still spot you.

  14. Stephane says:

    You calling me fat?

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  16. Good morning Heidi! Merry Christmas from Chi Town. In regards to the purse dealy bop. If I were her, I would have let it fly and say goodbye. I believe woman put the wrong things in their purses, namely, the important things like Id money, and their wallets. I would bury those items in a deep pocket in my coat, that way, when descision time comes, you can make a quick safe one. Muggers and trains have a big appetite for loose hanging bags. One of three confluences came into play here. One, her father (supposing she had one in her life, failed to teach her well about such matters. Two, she does have a loveing man in her life. Three, her husband has not tended to these matters of safety. In any case, I feel bad for her. In my case, the woman that I love so dear, gets my undivided attention regarding any matters of safety. I want her to come home to me! She works very hard and so do I. We help each other in all ways of life. It a nurturing love that that will always guarantee her safety. The warmth I feel in my home is something that is more valuable than all the money in the world. It is my greatest asset and I make it my business to protect that. Without that, I would not be the man I am. I could not bear to lose that. Thanks for letting me share my thoughts. It time for the snowblower!

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