Nobody walks in LA.
Wow. I have been so effing BUSY the last couple of days that I can barely get the shit that needs to be written for work written, let alone get around to the typical blog-jiving(tm) on how
But for you, my pretties, I make time. Here goes. From the top.
After one glass of cabernet in DIA, I sat next to an alum from the school for whom I professionally mooch on the plane, who bought me another glass as soon as our surly flight attendants asked. He had 2 Glenlivets for himself, and we blabbed about how he seriously needs to kick down some cash to the school this year. Haha. Actually, I spared him the philanthropic schpiel. Work schmork. I was a little lit and certainly not in a professional state of mind, much less donning professional apparel. I did slip him my card, just in case a big gift has my name all over it.
Allie and her furkids/Rhodesian Ridgebacks picked me up at LAX and suddenly, LA...woohhooo! I am there. Once we got to her place (very cute, I might add!) in Santa Monica, the wine mysteriously appeared again and yay! There was some catching up. And then there was dinner. The ohsofantabulouslydelicious dinner.
Allie's husband is the chef de cuisine at Melisse in Santa Monica. (No, not the guy you see on the website.). The food we were served was probably the best I've eaten since the last time I visited them in San Fran and hubby worked at Masa's. For real. YUM! If only my tastebuds hadn't been drunk too from ALL. THAT. WINE. But I still very much enjoyed my $59 teaspoon full of melon soup ;) haha.
Me and Allie @ Melisse:
So we're looking nice and classy there, right? Well, for some reason we decided that it was time to bring attention to our collective cleavage in one of LA's top restaurants. The waiters and the sommelier were pretty stoked at the boldness of the self-proclaimed titty twins:
OK. So I guess you had to be there. We're really not that trashy. Moving on.
Saturday we had ourselves a nice breaky, a quick run with the furkids, and a bike ride to Lynn's Nail Palace for some work on the old bikini line/nails/toes before hitting the beach. Hung out on the beach for a few hours then headed to dinner at Axe in Venice. Another score. (Actually, on the flight home I read an interview with Amanda Peet in the AA mag and she said Axe was her favorite.) We ordered a bottle of wine that was JUICY with A BIG FINISH because seriously, who can resist something with THAT description? Not us! Yum to the umpteenth power! We split a crab slaw, roasted chicken and farmer's market plate that was all so scrumptious.
After dinner, we stopped into The Otheroom, also in Venice. There was more wine, 2 bottles more, if anyone wants to count and call us drunks. You'll notice how well Allie's nail polish matches our beverage of choice:
We were kind of sitting over in the corner, and kind of getting bored of amusing ourselves with our many jokes, so we decided some company was in order. Allie spied some cute boys and decided they might offer some good
Our eogs, man. Our egos! But then there was Franklin, as in his name was really BEN. He was clearly the cooler of the 3 and stood behind us in thinking the other chicks were ho-bags. What a cutie!
Those girls totally owed us. And I do believe I told them just that.
Sunday can pretty much be summed up in one word: hangover from hell. OK, so that was 3. We did eat some brunch - can't remember where, I was so delirious - and go to the beach for awhile. We ordered in from Mao's Kitchen and then saw Little Miss Sunshine, which was just as good as everyone says.
Monday we woke up, back to normal, and went to the beach for awhile before I had to leave. There, who did we see flexing his hot lifeguarding muscles on a jog on the beach but our awesome bar-friend BEN? Allie had spilled wine all down his pants the previous night, so she confirmed the details of the jeans she would hook him up with from her place of employment.
After a mexican lunch and maybe the world's worst mojito, I was headed back to beachless Colorado. But not before the big Zach Braff sighting and a Corona at the airport bar with a methhead chick heading to Barcelona. How do I meet these people? It was some chatty travelin', that's for sure. The guy next to me on the way HOME had also sat next to me and the alum on the way OUT and decided that he would get drunk and maybe, just maybe, I would talk to him too if he bought me a drink. Whatever. Wasn't having it - him or the drink.
So. That was my trip! Total fun. I love me some Allie! ;-)
PS. A few more pictures are here.....