In short, I think movies have an Annie to Abed rating scale. Oh, and yeah, I mean Annie and Abed from Community, which is one of my favorite shows ever (it's up there with Doctor Who, Sherlock, and Daria, which clearly makes sense). Most "good" movies will get an Abed rating. It will probably be in his DVD collection, and he may or may not talk endlessly about it, but for the most part, if Abed likes it, then it's all right. Then we have the Annie side of the scale, which I believe applies to many a sequel. The "Annie" definition is derived from the well-known "Annie aww", a sound emitted when things are cute, pitiful, etc. (Also, I mean "pitiful" in the way it's supposed to be meant. Not with a sneer or anything. It's just something or someone that looks like they need a bit of pitying.)
I thought of this after watching Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs 2. Without a doubt, I loved the first one, which is precisely why I decided to watch the sequel. While this one was cute, I found myself Annie-aww-ing more than I thought I would. All those food-related puns? Oh yes. How could I possibly resist? But it basically felt like the plot was chugging along, pleasant as punch, and eventually I found myself waiting for the next pun or for the next time Officer Earl had an excellent line to deliver. As Doge might put it: much cute, such sequel.
Anyway, enough about that for now. I really should've written about that when I actually had more to say, but now that I've got this spiffling desk job, typing more doesn't seem to be such a great deal. Well, that's a lie. I totally enjoy typing. It just means my tumblr suffers a bit. What I REALLY want to talk about is my excellent weekend, and how life at my new job is working out for me (hint: it's totally great).
First of all, it's really difficult blogging after working at a computer all day long. I really need to figure out how to balance all of this. I probably shouldn't use my work computer, simply because if I have it open, I'll be tempted to check all my tickets. What I'm saying is, if I'm on my work computer at home, I actually want to work. What the hey?! For real, though, I love my job. I haven't even finished my first week and I've never been so happy in my life.
Celebrations started with my best friends. I haven't had a Tanfo Tuesday in a long while, but it was worth it. Essentially, I got the job offer, ran around Scott's living room for a good ten minutes, and then motored home to have some quality time with my wonderful friends. This meant Red Robin and lots of Tanforan wandering. Thankfully, even after all of Scott's snobbery in terms of food, my burger still tasted delicious, though I knew I should've stopped about halfway through. I ate it all anyway due to success. We caught up with our buddy at FYE, who said that the three of us hadn't been around as one mobile group in HELLA YEARS, which is basically true. He told us about the Run For Your Life marathon, in which people run around being chased by people dressed up as zombies in order to achieve awesomeness. If I liked running and moving around in general, this would totally be a thing I would do. However, Hilda remarked that if it were to take place in San Francisco, she might consider it. Honestly, I would too, just so I could duck into places when I'm tired of running.
Note to self: I owe my brothers at least two movie viewings. It's probably going to be The Lego Movie and Mr. Peabody and Sherman.
Friday's celebrations were with my family, after my first day of work. Scott joined us for some Filipino food at Isla, which is a grand time considering it's all-you-can-eat rice. I don't know why, but it seems like every time I'm at that particular restaurant with my whole family, we always talk about the same hilarities. Not that I mind, but I wonder if it's just something about that place that makes us relive all of our silly, stupid, and ridiculous moments. Maybe that's just how families are when they all get together, and the server is your family friend. Eh, how would I know. Either way, it was a grand old time, especially when dad described crispy pata with all purpose sauce as, "Killing Me Softly", because there's honestly no other way to put it.
Scott promised me Lovejoy's once I got a desk job, so that's what Saturday was for. I forgot how crazy it could get! It's uncomfortably warm, but most people who go there seem to anticipate that. I love seeing how everyone dresses up for "tea time". You get folks who say, whatever, it's just a normal shop, and come in wearing their regular clothes. Then there are people who seriously dress up, ala poofy dresses and all that (really, I think that sort of dress is more suited to places like Crown & Crumpet, which actually seem to encourage it). You've got people who dress up nicely and all modern, as if they're going out to a fancy restaurant, and then you have those who try to mesh the two into one. The latter basically looks like, "Oh, I've got this clubbing dress, but I'll pair it with a Sunday hat and a single lace glove and pearls, because tea?" It's pretty...interesting. I guess. I'm not sure why it irks me, but it does. Hrm.
Note to self: buy that excellent royal tea. Anyway, Lovejoy's now has a legit British guy working there. I'll bet that 87% of the clientele at Lovejoys are writers or writers-to-be, and of that percentage, at least half of them are young adult writers, and all of those writers are totally thinking of writing a book with this English tea shop boy as the main character. Poor guy. I'll bet he feels so objectified, working at a place where all the ladies are probably eyeing him like a Jigglypuff eyes a microphone-marker. (Bam, folks. WRITING PROMPT.)
Things I haven't yet written about? Oh, I mean, it's probably Scott's not-so-minor obsession with brunch. The man keeps tabs on every brunch he has had since he became the Brunch Baron. (At work, he's the Lunch Czar. Yeah, I know.) This is why the specific number here is 39. It was originally scheduled to take place at Radish, but the wait was two and a half hours long. Now, one thing that has been reiterated since I've started to frequent the city is that a car is both a blessing and a curse. There are reasons why things like Lyft, Uber, and taxis are so popular in large cities: they get you to where you're going as if you were the one driving, minus the hassle of parking and actually driving. I know, it should be a pretty obvious statement, but I'm from suburbia, okay? I don't know these things. Anyway, I think having a car means you can get more people to brunch. Look, for the most part, people will not just roll out of a person's car for the hell of it, so if you think about it, you've already locked this person into coming once they've agreed to hitch a ride with you to the brunch location. Anyway.
The rainy Sunday brought about a small bit of frustration, but we relocated to Mission Beach Cafe, where the wait was a mere...uh, hour or so, maybe. Misuse of the word "mere", maybe. Half of our party split up and went to grab coffee at some place that I couldn't see. After a while, we wondered what was taking them so long, especially since we were the next big party on the list. They came back looking rather chipper, and then all of a sudden, it's "Oh yeah, and he almost got stabbed!"
Let me stop for a second here, because this is exactly the sort of thing that my grandparents are always worried about when I'm anywhere that isn't home. It didn't really help that Tommy, Scott's best friend, then replied with, "Yeah, then the same guy tried to stab me afterward." Like, again, with NO FEELING. So I panicked for a minute. Let it be known that I was not entirely calm on the inside, though I think I was pretty cool on the outside.
The good news is we got seated and we had a lovely time.
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| Green tea chai latte. Spicy-yowza-ness. |
And the food was excellent.
An egg sandwich doesn't really sound like such a big deal until you bite into this particular egg sandwich. I love how I didn't even have to ask them to make my bacon extra crispy, because the bacon was just excellent the way it was. And it really was, simply, a lovely sandwich. I must have been famished, since I was technically the first one done. I only say this because Scott was technically the first one done, but he only got two out of the three pancakes he was supposed to have. Oh, the service was excellent. They told us straight away that they'd accidentally shorted us a pancake, and didn't charge us for it. Just like that! Man, awesome. There's nothing better than awesome service. You can bet your bottom dollar that we tipped well.
It was after this brunch that I realized why so many people enjoy it so much. I'm not much of an extrovert, but it was fun getting to know new friends over delicious food. I no longer keep myself in the mindset of, "But it's just fancy eggs," because let's be real - there are few things in the world more glorious than a well-cooked omelette. Things as simple and elegant as that are often mussed up easily. Details are overlooked. Shortcuts are taken. And then you have a regular egg that you made yourself when you were half-asleep in the morning, barely into your morning tea or coffee. Just saying, is all. I stand by the fact that great company is made greater by great food. Aw yiss.
Anyway, I swear, I'm going to try blogging more often. This page has been up on my tabs for a good week or so. Argh.
