Friends’ Photo Party With Jacqueline Neuwirth

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Sorry guys, L is taken

Photographer Jacqueline Neuwirth created an unforgettable afternoon for my friends and I. We brought our gorgeous selves along with some outfits and makeup to WeWork Berkeley. Jacqueline brought all the talent, equipment, and bottles of wine (a six pack) necessary for a fun fabulous party with stunning results.

“After several bottles of wine I realized both sides are my good side,” joked my friend L. I hate getting my photo taken but Jacqueline made me feel comfortable and beautiful. K agreed, “taking photos with a group was really fun and took away the awkwardness that can go along with having your picture taken. My shots were more relaxed and natural looking because my friends were around to make me laugh.” I’m excited to use her photographs on my social media sites. I think a photo party is a great idea for a birthday but Jacqueline would also be a great addition to any singles event and an important resource for online daters .

In fact, she’s the owner of Love Your Photos. While using dating apps like Tinder, I grew weary of seeing those shirtless bathroom selfies guys post on their profiles. I also don’t understand the photos with sedated tigers or the Iron Throne. If every shot of you is skiing, surfing, climbing, scuba diving, or jumping out of an airplane and I can’t see your face, I don’t want to date you. Also, please don’t include a shot of you lying in bed. I could go on (I realize us ladies are just as guilty with our Machu Picchu pics and Where’s Waldo group shots with our hotter friends). Call Jacqueline, take a photo, and get a date.

My friend D enthused, “what better way to channel my inner Emily Ratajkowski than with Jacqueline and friends? I had tons of fun changing outfits and practicing poses while laughing and drinking the afternoon away.” It didn’t hurt that we had sexy and talented Ensemble Mik Nawooj members there to cheer us on.

Friends’ Photo Party With Jacqueline Neuwirth

Me<Fuck Buddy<FWB<Casual Date

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It’s good to know where you stand so that you can press eject on a “special” someone before the pain and humiliation set in. I thought I was engaged in a casual relationship with a guy. I’m not. To him I am that gross black sticky stuff that collects around the edges of a 3-day old Band-Aid.

Dating casually means that while there is no commitment now, there may be at some point something more. There are no titles or the expectation of seeing someone regularly but you look forward to seeing each other (and make an effort) when possible. When you do get together, you engage in activities out in the world in addition to sex. You like each other. You care about each other and know things about each others lives. You may have met friends and in my case, you are sexually monogamous. You have talked about not having sex with anyone else and condoms are not necessary as long as there is an alternative form of birth control.

A FWB is very similar except they are definitely temporary until you find someone to be in a relationship with. A Fuck Buddy is just about sex, booty calls, scratching an itch. I’m pretty sure given this guy’s reaction to a recent proposition, I am less than a fuck buddy. To him I am nothing.

I pitched a real article to a real (well-respected widely read) publication and the editor wants me to write the story. I’m going to need a sexual partner to engage in sexual activity with me more than once to complete the assignment. The proposed activity ought to be a big turn on for said sexual partner. I thought I had a willing participant lined up, someone I like, trust, have fun with, and who would be supportive of me writing beyond my blog. Nope. Band-Aid gunk.

I should have picked up on the hint when I asked him to hang out with me this past weekend. I sprained my ankle and consequently have decreased social opportunity. I know he is busy. I happily offered to do my own thing in the same vicinity as him. My ex and I would spend hours “together” with him playing piano and me reading. We wouldn’t talk, just be near each other. His response was basically no, that he’s more productive solo. I’m a big believer that even the busiest bee makes time for someone they like. I am not liked.

Still, I excitedly called him to tell him about the article and asked him to have sex with me multiple times. He said, “As long as my schedule permits.” I said something admittedly passive aggressive about not wanting to have to recruit elsewhere. He said, “I’m sure you will have no trouble finding someone else.” Then he started laughing and said something about not being able to come to my What’s In Prince’s Fridge Memorial Dance Party on Friday because he has a friend coming to stay with him and has to pack for his upcoming art show. I still don’t know why this was funny to him. I told him I didn’t care if he came to the party, but I did care if he was telling me he was too busy to have sex with me in order to benefit my future. He made a big exaggerated sighing noise and said “OK.” When I wasn’t amused he laughed some more and informed me that it was funny that he was pretending that it would be a chore. I hurried off the phone.

WTF!? Wake up call. This guy doesn’t care if he ever sees me again. What we have is not a fun mutual needs-meeting situation. I’m like a lame toy he only rarely picks up to amuse himself with for five minutes and then forgets about. I’m like one of those plastic parachute men that’s only fun when it gets caught in a tree.

Time to eject before it’s too late. If you find yourself in this situation, do that and be done. Don’t be like me. It’s too late for me. I like him. I’ll miss him and worry over what’s wrong with me that I’m so abhorrent to him. I’ll attempt to think over and over again how it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with him but feel like a total loser. Don’t be me. Don’t burn your delicate places with Nair and attempt shoeicide in 6” heels for a guy who doesn’t like you. Find someone who does like you. Do it now.

I’m going to write the article without him and be published. It’s going to be great, so very great, just look at this fake smile plastered on my face great.

 

Me<Fuck Buddy<FWB<Casual Date

Snicker Doodle Cupcakes

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I am the program manager for Tech Futures Group. Today is our quarterly team meeting. Our advisors come to WeWork Berkeley from as far away as Santa Cruz. I baked cupcakes last night for the meeting as well as for my blog party tonight.

My coworker E asked for snicker doodle cupcakes. I baked snicker doodle cupcakes. My go to cake recipe is a box of cake mix (in this case Duncan Hines white), 4 eggs, a box of pudding mix (in this case vanilla), 1/3 cup oil, and a splash of vanilla (I don’t think it’s possible to use too much). This time I used a cup of heavy whipping cream in place of water.

When filling the super cute orange with white dots cupcake papers, I alternated a layer of batter with a layer of cinnamon sugar (2 tablespoons of cinnamon mixed with a half a cup of sugar). While the cupcakes were in the oven for about 20 minutes, I made the buttercream frosting (the big bag of powdered sugar, one stick of butter, one stick of butter flavored Crisco, 1/3 of a cup of heavy whipping cream, and the other half of a small bottle of vanilla extract).

I used a pastry bag and my handy frosting tip from Williams-Sonoma to give the cupcakes a professional look. After sprinkling on some more cinnamon sugar, I topped them off with little chocolates (not too sweet) that my boss brought back from his European vacation.

The cupcakes came out delicious, not too cinnamony, they taste exactly like snicker doodle cookies. Lucky Tech Futures Group team. My friend P says, “They’re f-ing great!”

Snicker Doodle Cupcakes

Don’t Be Sloppy With The Rock

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I arrived at Bobby G’s Pizzeria two hours ahead of the Warriors’ historical tip off last night. My plan was to save 6 seats for friends. There was only one available table in front of the TV that was rumored to be the one reserved for watching Kobe Bryant’s retirement party. I planned to read this month’s Books and Beer Club selection. My friend T got there super early to help me defend against the literal hordes that would come to try and take what was mine.

Last year I watched almost every Warriors playoff and championship game at Bobby G’s. The pizza is good. The beer selection is outstanding. They even have Pliny on tap for about five minutes every week. The whole place is packed with fans spilling onto the street during games. Nobody is there for any other reason. The service is perfect. They have never ever fucked up my order. They always play the Warriors song.

Watch the Warriors clobber Houston (and try not to vomit when Harden stirs his pot) on Saturday at 12.30 at Bobby G’s in Berkeley!

Do it big like Bogut people!

Don’t Be Sloppy With The Rock

Pretty As A Peanut Party

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My fucking talented friend Diana Clock designed this beautiful invitation

100 posts
5,000 views
1/3 of the world (including Iraq)

Today is a big day for my blog. Pretty As A Peanut is two months old and has hit some exciting milestones. Pretty Pnuts everywhere are invited to join me in celebrating.

Here are the top 10 most popular posts (which prove that my friends are much cooler than me since 40% of these are guest posts).

#10 What To Do In Berkeley On A Friday Night

#9 Why The Sandwich Spot Is The Only Place I Want To Eat Lunch Outside My Apartment

#8 The Good Part

#7 Still Boycotting Game Of Thrones

#6 Most Dateable

#5 Least Dateable

#4 He Couldn’t Say It To My Face, But He Could Say It to Facebook

#3 What To Do In Oakland On Friday Night

#2 The Simpsons On A Date

#1 Donald Trump In Conversation With Tina Belcher

Pretty As A Peanut Party

Liquor Cupcake? I Don’t Even Know Her III

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Chocolate cupcake with salted caramel filling and vanilla bourbon buttercream

Tomorrow night is my friend L’s 30th birthday at Missouri Lounge in Berkeley. After my Easter brunch with a friend’s family (pumpernickel bagel, egg salad, Kerns pear nectar, and See’s chocolate Easter eggs), I got to work baking cupcakes. It feels good not to have to follow recipes and be able to improvise now. Baking isn’t as rigid/scientific as some people think.

I did my usual Duncan Hines Devil’s Food mix with a box of chocolate pudding mix for the dry ingredients. Four eggs, 1/3 of a cup vegetable oil, 3/4 of a cup buttermilk, and 1/4 cup bourbon got mixed in.

I decided to fill them this time. Filling is fun. You core out little pockets of cake with a pairing knife, pipe in some goo and then pop the little tops back on. After frosting, no one is the wiser until they take a bite. I’d asked my friend P to get me salted caramels to melt at Berkeley Bowl but he was too stressed out by being in that fucking madhouse, he abandoned his mission.

I ended up at Safeway at 9 am buying something trying to fancy next to squeeze bottles of Hershey’s Syrup. It ended up tasting not salty at all, so I added salt. Then it was too salty. I’d say I eventually wrestled that shit into submission.

The frosting was standard buttercream with extra vanilla and some more bourbon. I went to the fancy cupcake store and got snazzy little chocolate vanilla swirl straws to top them off. Very professional looking. I also got 3 and 0 candles because I think everyone should blow out candles on their birthday. I hope they help make a it a special night for her. She deserves it. She’s wonderful.

 

Liquor Cupcake? I Don’t Even Know Her III