Man, Catherine Baba makes biking in heels look effortless. Pumping her long gamines in some platforms while swaddled in her gypsy kimono layers; only then to dismount nonchalantly to make her way to a show. Pretty much guaranteed I’ll break my face if I even attempt this. One day, one day…
If anyone knows how to throw a party, it’s my Twinkie and best friend, Stephanie. Every year her family graciously hosts and throws an amazing fete in honor of the HP Byron Nelson Championship at TPC Four Seasons Resort Las Colinas. While I’m definitely not an avid golfer (I’ve thrown out my back on the driving range, and sadly thrown my clubs in a frustrated rage); I do love a good social scene with my a margarita or mimosa in tow. The Byron Nelson has been a longtime Texas tradition I’ve been partaking in since high school when I am in town, but it does get increasingly better with age.
The Ramirez’s have a sick house on the 17th tee, thus making the Byron Nelson experience far more enjoyable. This year golden wunderkin Jordan Spieth, a 16-year-old Jesuit junior, made the finals with the veteran old timers. The energy was beyond electric for the young hometown hero. Even though Spieth didn’t win it all the way, he did finish at 16th place in a seven-way tie, six shots behind winner Jason Day. You can certainly bet Dallasites will proudly support him for years to come.
After many rounds of double fisting mimosas and margaritas, paparazzi style picture taking between windy gusts, and committing carbocide on some delicious Blue Mesa catering; we moseyed on down to the Pavilion. Le Freak was doing classic covers of sing-a-long 80s & 90s jams and we ran into some of the most interesting characters. For example, the matchy match Bachelor party group in white polos and red seersucker shorts, cougars on the prowl, dirty old men, cute guy doing the trash sweeping dance, and everyone in between. Dallas is a friendly place, so with a just a smile, you’ll be sure to make about 20 new friends.
If you’ve never been to the Byron Nelson before there’s a few things you should expect and here’s a few helpful tips:
You can view the rest of the pictures on Facebook… eventually. And a very special thanks to Stephanie and the whole Ramirez family for all your hospitality. Much love.
There’s no doubt that I love being Vietnamese; its rich and vast Asian culture and history with the influence of French fabulousness. The fusion provides the best of both worlds and lets me appreciate the French without being an asshole. I kid, I kid… Anyhow, the sweltering heat lately has made my morning coffee ritual completely unbearable. Gulping down a hot cup of joe in 100+ degree heat only makes my body an internal sauna, and let’s face it, that’s not how I’d like to start my day. So what’s a girl to do to beat the heat and still get a morning caffeine kick? A Cafe Sua Da, the sinfully delicious Vietnamese Iced Coffee, comes to the rescue. Each sweet sip brings me back to the nostalgia of being a little girl watching my Daddy drink a tall glass while eating Pho; all the while trying to keep my sticky fingers out of that sweetened condensed milk.
The history behind it all is that during wartime and with Euro influence, everyone had to tighten up those purse strings and make ingredients last longer. So chicory root was added to coffee grinds in order to stretch the coffee supply, and today the Chicory Root Coffee blends are very well-known for their distinctive and bolder flavor. Many swear by using only Cafe du Monde coffee (you’ll see the infamous yellow canister in many Pho shops), but your favorite blend of medium ground coffee will easily hit the spot as well when in a pinch. Those with a sweet tooth and sugar addiction will easily fall in love with the sweetened condensed milk addition, which sets the Cafe Sua Da apart from the French Cafe Au Lait.
Ingredients and Equipment needed:
In the empty glass, add the sweetened condensed milk to the bottom and if you totally lick the spoon clean, I won’t judge. Place the Vietnamese Coffee Press atop of the glass with the condensed milk and add the coffee grounds into the press. Tamp down and screw on the lid tightly to get a slow drip after you add boiling water to the press. Cover the press and let the brewing magic happen. Depending on how you like your coffee, the ratio of coffee to condensed milk will differ. Stronger? Brew more coffee than milk, and for you sugar fanatics, you’ll have a lighter coloured coffee due to the condensed milk ratio. When you’ve decided on how much of a caffeine kick you want, remove the press, fold the condensed milk into the coffee and pour over the second glass of ice. Then sip, smile and thank the French for invading Vietnam and making culinary history.
They say “it’s like riding a bicycle”, you know, you’re suppose to never forget this little old skill you picked up along the way. I’m sorry, but I’m no elephant you see. I recall the first time my training wheels were removed and my Daddy giving me a heave-ho push off as I pedaled my scrawny stems off; right into some thorny rose bushes. Insert hysterical crying here.
Never wanting to give something up, I later in life gave it another go around; however, this time around the old neighborhood with my younger brother. Oh I was in bliss, I could actually ride from here to there! Here to there consisting of a straight shot, and the instant there was a bend around the corner I fell; bike and all. Mind you I was 21 and getting my ass laughed at by my skillful younger brother. I didn’t know what hurt more, my bruised ego or my bruised body.
Alas, my now-ex boyfriend decided he missed his old reckless riding days and some part of me is a glutton for punishment; so we headed to Bikecology in Beverly Hills. Two shiny new Treks later, an uber dorky helmet (hey, you have to protect the goods!), and a LA bike path map in hand; I had a new outlook on life.
No longer do I fall when there’s a break in the road, though I still can’t jump a curb without yelping that I just injured my ladybits. You can catch my long locks blowing in the wind on the Santa Monica bike path; now freed from the prison of the unstylish helmet since I’ve deemed the path safely mastered through profuse practice. Though through the mean streets of LA traffic, you will definitely not want a chance encounter with me. That is unless you want a mess of tears on the hood of your precious BMW, only then to roll off and kick the shit out of your car.
Pedestrians, drivers, doggies, et al… Wake Up! You have been warned!
Fierceeeeeeeeeeee. Anna Del Russo, outfitted in a Dolce and Gabbana Lace dress and YSL vintage archive leopard heels. The Empress’s New Clothes trend? “But she isn’t wearing anything at all!” Well honey, with a sick body like that; sometimes you don’t have to.
Photo Credit: alltheprettybirds
Dear Future Fiance,
It’s been another 4 years, amazing how time flies isn’t it? For some reason, men become rabid beasts fueled by a soccer craze when the World Cup rolls around. Kinda hot, yet frighteningly scary at the same time. Please step away from the body paint and vuvuzela horns; it’s really not a good look.
Anyways, I’ll gleefully watch every World Cup match with you without complaint; only if it involves amazingly hot bodies like Mr. Yoann Gourcuff. However, I cannot promise that there won’t be uncontrollable drooling and oogling. You know I have a soft spot for the Frenchies.
So sweet Future Fiance, if you can attempt to have a body like Yoann (or even better, BE Yoann Gourcuff), then I will try my darnest to have a hybrid body of Gisele, Megan Fox, Beyonce… (errr pick your poison).
xo.
Me
P.S. Ladies, who are your Top 5 World Cup Banging Bodies?
Somehow time on Thursdays always seem to escape me, but I wanted to take a moment to share this song with you that’s been been the soundtrack for today. Sam Sparro is an Aussie turned Angeleno artist that mixes his sultry vocals with some sick electro-pop house beats to get an eclectic, yet smooth sound. If his vocals aren’t charming enough already, he’s got a face to match… but as they say, “The cute ones are always gay.” *sighhhhhh*
If the fish swam out of the ocean
and grew legs and they started walking
and the apes climbed down from the trees
and grew tall and they started talkingand the stars fell out of the sky
and my tears rolled into the ocean
now i’m looking for a reason why
you even set my world into motion’cause if you’re not really here
then the stars don’t even matter
now i’m filled to the top with fear
that it’s all just a bunch of matter’cause if you’re not really here
then i don’t want to be either
i wanna be next to you
black and gold
black and gold
black and goldi looked up into the night sky
and see a thousand eyes staring back
and all around these golden beacons
i see nothing but blacki feel a way of something beyond them
i don’t see what i can feel
if vision is the only validation
then most of my life isn’t real’cause if you’re not really here
then the stars don’t even matter
now i’m filled to the top with fear
that it’s all just a bunch of matter’cause if you’re not really here
then i don’t want to be either
i wanna be next to you
black and gold
black and gold
black and gold
