Thursday, March 18, 2021

You know you've exited the hopefulness of youth when you get the eyelash out of your eye and you just wipe it on your pants, no consideration of a wish. 

Wednesday, January 27, 2021

jan 26

I cried this morning, sitting in the same spot I was that morning, 

it's been one full year  

We tapped our phones like zombies all day, jumping from story to story, choking back the tears and disbelief, thinking about Vanessa

the grayest of gray in LA, the clouds were so thick outside. the same awful clouds. I cursed them. sludgy and frantic, This day. We broke our dry January that night and I cried through the egg rolls. 

It's been a year and I still have yet to address it personally. It's hard for me to explain everything Kobe was for me. The best I can do is remember it all.


1996, I was 8 when Kobe started playing in the NBA. This means I was in 3rd grade still singing Bananas in Pajamas (are coming down the stairs!)

Juliette and I would watch Laker games standing in front of the tv. We'd pick the noses of the other team and flick them (smudge central on the face of that 2 ft deep television) and we'd scream for Kobe. he moved like Spiderman and I was in love. 

1999 Phil Jackson became the coach, Kobe and Shaq, it was soon to become my everything. 
2000 2001 2002. it was so exciting. I felt like a part of it.

I spent a large chunk of these youth years sitting 5 feet from the tv screen by myself in the living room, eating Kids Cuisine dinners, zoned IN to those games

I had a knack for attaching my sense of self to things outside myself. My disabled sister stood out everywhere, everyone knew her and everyone loved knowing her. My sense of personal identity was heavily tied to being her sister.

The Lakers were my team. and they were amazing year after year, so fun to watch, so reliable. I was proud that they were mine. Proud that we'd become so tight, the team and me.

When they won, we had won! It would then be a great night
When they lost, I'd go cold. as if I had lost something in my own life

Early 2000s. Middle school and High school, I was obsessive and emotional.
I’d write the schedule of games in my planner. I'd read the sports section in the newspaper the next morning, I'd memorize stats. I formed little mental relationships with the players.
I was so attached. 

2003 Colorado. I was so upset/sad/mad/confused. I became engrossed in the case.
I was so angry at him. How could he do this to himself!? to Us?! He ruined it

I would continue to support my team. Kobe and I would take it one day at a time. It would take time to move forward.

2005. Junior year of High School. I didn't love school. Always an outlier type, that's where I was comfortable. I had a couple close friends, but in general felt terrible at connecting with people. Every day was another day to get through. 
Joe and I exchanged our first words this year: "I have that shirt."
He was walking past my desk in AP Bio and was wearing a Cheeseburger in Paradise t-shirt. He responded, saying something about Hawaii, we looked at each other for the first real time and he smiled the most engaging nice smile and part of me melted.
He had a girlfriend.
I went to prom with one of his best friends.

2006. Senior year of high school. Joe comes out of nowhere. I'd later find out that he began to crush on me the previous year before we ever spoke, when he saw that I had the Laker game schedule written out in my planner. We'd hang out for the first time at Coffee Bean the night before Thanksgiving. It was instantly right, a "holy shit, I am going to be with this person now" kind of knowing. There was a lot of smiling, I was completely at ease with him.
Nothing so good has ever landed in my lap quite like that.

He invited me to a Laker game on our 2rd date and I met his parents. At this point in my life, I had been to 2 Laker games. His parents had season tickets. I couldn't believe this was happening. 
I was in heaven.
it was the best year of my life. I felt fun and weird and wanted, secure for the first time.

2007-2010. the Laker love affair continues through our college years. Kobe was insane. the shedding of skin. the focus, the precision, the heroics, the face. we'd watch as many games as we could get on the east coast

2010. we've just graduated college and moved back to LA. 
with an absurd twist of fate, we get tickets to Game 7 of the NBA Finals Lakers vs Celtics. It was one of the greatest days of life, We lost our goddamn minds


Years later when Kobe retired, my personal investment in basketball retired too. I had little interest in continuing to dedicate so much time to watching and following a team
It really was all because of Kobe for me.

20 years of his life, growth. drive. A force of nature
20 years of our lives, of being a constant in our homes and our memories. through our own growth.
20 years on one team, in one city.

Signed off with a love letter and 60 points. his daughters cheering in the corner seats
It was all so special

Thursday, June 25, 2020


This is the house i grew up in. 
1990 Manhattan beach, CA my parents buy this shingly 1940s house on a culdesac street right up from the beach.
They were 38/39 years old. My mom had me at 36. Blair was born 2 ½ years later. 
Due to a large fuck up when my mom was in labor, Blair’s brain was damaged from lack of oxygen and she came out with a whole lotta cerebral palsy. 

i never felt proud to live in the house, it wasn’t a big nice house. It wasn’t a shithole, it was meh. Behind the nice orderly living room, it was random, disheveled. piles of paperwork/mail/magazines. bulky wheelchair equipment everywhere. It always felt unfinished, an incomplete home. 

After i moved back home after college, into my bare, former room space, I never decorated it. It felt pointless, makeup on a troll. I didn’t like anything about it, why try to make it look nicer, or worse- my own. No, I did not want this to be mine. 
Besides, I was going to get my own place eventually. 

we had become a family of isolationists, living together, existing in loneliness next to each other. Everyone's shells so strong. robotic tense purposeless interactions. it felt darker than I remembered.

[I now see that] My continuing to live there was like dropping myself into a bowl of (thicc) depression syrup, and every day not rescuing myself. letting myself flail around til I lost enough steam that I didn’t care about anything, let alone pulling myself out. 

What a damn bowl, my special weird home bowl, extra slippery sides. 

The other night I stopped over there to pick up my dog. It was the perfect time of eve, just past sunset pre-darkness, when you can really feel the ocean in the air. I was putting stuff in my car about to leave, and I stopped to look back at the house
And I loved the way it looked. Character and age, one of the last old beach houses that remain untouched. The red door has been there from the beginning, my dad built the deck when i was 6ish. I like how the shingles look now that the paint has worn off, it used to be dark gray. 
My mom says the reason the house is still standing is because all the termites are holding hands. 

It’s been almost 7 years since I’ve lived there. 

[I now see that] I had to step away from it to notice its value, to realize that there are things i actually like about it.  
If only they’d let me help with the inside.  

Wednesday, April 22, 2020

gather round, it's story time

one time, like 4-5 years ago I applied for a job at Hedley & Bennet, the colorful ampersand apron company headquartered in the arts district, where there's a zipline running through the warehouse office.

I had completed the first part of the application - making a one minute video and uploading it to youtube. I spent two days making a sweet graphic video that was awesome. I even made a little 'HB' cake pictured above for one of the slides and told them I'd bring it to them if they wanted.
It was met with enthusiasm and they asked me to come interview.

The interview was with a woman, their hr manager. It went incredibly well, we talked for an hour and it was all great and I've never felt more confident about an interview, etc.

she popped out of the room and came back with a packet. I was to complete this 200 question personality test, she leaves room.

she comes back in, gives me a second different (but same) 80 question personality test.

then a series of oddly basic "IQ" worksheets* where the woman sat in the room and timed me on her phone.
*like, drawing shapes

I was there for four hours.

the woman hugged me on the way out, told me she was excited, that I was perfect for the job, and that I'd be hearing from her very soon about next steps.

and then, never again.
ghosted my every message/email/phone call.
alas, I am less desirable on paper, for a FUN company.
or perhaps I matched my shapes wrong.

I started baking at Lodge later that year, so it all worked out as it should have
and I went back to the kitchen, where I rarely wear aprons.


just call me 'unprofessional slob with undesirable personality'

Monday, March 23, 2020

wow ............?

what in the heck

everything is so strange and eerie and sad and frustrating. 

i'm not certain what brought me here tonight
but I do know that this quarantine is making me face myself 

it's very easy to be detached from yourself when you work so dang hard most of the day. pouring yourself into your work is a great distraction from actually looking at yourself. asking the hard questions, making the choice to rise to the challenge

and now I have this time, all this extra time that comes with the constant uncomfortable weirdness in the air. 
I want to know what to do. I want to know what project to start with. intense indecision coupled with endless distractions coupled with harsh self-criticism is not ideal. 

anyway. the nostalgia has been running high,
past trips and meals and good times, I've been looking at photos, sad happy, happy sad, trying to remember it all, relive the good stuff, tell myself there is so much more good stuff to come, eventually.

I baked at home for the first time in well over 2 years. (I would always always prefer baking at work)
I made the Loose Tea Yogurt Cake from Molly Baz, a solid lovely recipe. I knocked the sugar down to 200g, I wanna try it with coconut oil and olive oil. comes together so quickly, I was barely even frustrated making it in my apartment kitchen.
work/bakery baking and home/apt baking feel so different, and you know what, this was nice.

Thursday, September 14, 2017

oh hola

hello old friend. how's it hanging?
low like fruit?

      salted caramel & rye brownie
       risked the car accident

I make a ton of pastries every day, but don't bake much at home anymore. sad!
my daily work attire is: look as baggy and grungy as possible
I feel like a mangey lil kitchen rat ALL THE TIME and i think it's fucking with my head

well, these are some photos from stuff.
and some from Vietnam.

hope you are doing great and enjoying your days on earth and making the most out of your life or not.

baked goods pictured, all at Lodge Bread: coffee cake / sour cream and espresso, salted caramel & rye brownie, sourdough cinnamon roll bread pudding

Monday, February 27, 2017

what has happened to me?


howareya? to start this...?

well, I am still a person. 

I'm still a baker, so that's good. 

I bake at Lodge Bread in los angeles. 

and I've continued to make lots of cakes. 

it's been a strange time for me, a strange few years really. 

I've struggled in lots of areas. energy, motivation, overwhelming mental paralysis. struggled with being nice to myself and treating a body the way bodies should be treated. I realized how hard I feel things. whatever things. how personally I take everything, criticism, scolding. how my head hangs onto those things with a claw grip. I've struggled with topics of mental health, with different diagnoses, with medications, with self-medication. 

and honestly, that's the reason I slipped away from here. at whatever point, something had shifted in me.  my writing was different, my voice had morphed. and it felt uncomfortable to make such a switch, to introduce such a swampiness to this thing I had worked on for years, the lighthearted place I created and loved. 

I began to crave something new, a fresh start. somewhere I could feel free to be a depressing cynical little shit.

this leads us to wolfie cake. I started it with no expectations, and urged myself to a place of comfortable un-censorship. 
there's lots of dessert. there's a lot of color
and I'm happy to say that it's turned into such a pleasant little space and greatest of all, it feels like me. 

this is where you'll find me now

luv you.