When I decided to go to The Blathering, I did what I always do when it comes to traveling: I went a little bit insane. I decided to extend my weekend in Sacramento to five days across the entire state of California because why not? That's actually what I said to myself as I was mulling over making that long drive from Southern to Northern California. Why not? My bank account tried to interrupt with various reasons why not, namely MY MORTGAGE, but I reassured my bank account I would hardly eat a thing. That would save us loads of money.
I thought about making the trip alone at first because as a new mom, alone is one of those hard-to-recall, romantic concepts like naps and a defined waistline. Somehow, though, I convinced Kristie she should join me, and a plan was hatched.
After much research and the purchase of a couple one-way flights, we were ready. We decided to fly out of Austin instead of Dallas-Fort Worth because the flights were much, much cheaper and because we didn't consider how ridiculously tired we'd be on the way home. Nothing relaxes a traveler more than the comforting thought of a four-hour drive home from the airport, with traffic. We were both far less thrilled on that long drive back from Austin than on the drive there, I'll tell you that much. And the drive there started at 5 a.m.
We flew into LAX early Wednesday afternoon, and only hit one, very small rental car snag that convinced me rental car employees don't actually have to know how to do anything at all except scowl and mispronounce names. We found our lovely little hotel, The Crescent, dropped our bags and headed out to explore. I told Kristie I felt a little out of place a few minutes into our walk around Beverly Hills. "How can I lose 50 pounds and get breast implants in the next 15 minutes?" Champagne would have to be my consolation prize.
{Champagne before 4 p.m. This is how I vacation.}
That night, a local author of mine took Kristie and I around town and then to dinner. He showed us where Tom Cruise lives, and you'd be stunned how many trash cans lined Tom's curbs. Tom Cruise: he who creates a lot of trash. Make of that what you will. We briefly considered, you know, sifting through those trash cans for all the alien paraphernalia, but the words illegal and maximum security might have been uttered, and I hadn't had nearly enough champagne for those words.
We didn't actually see Tom, of course, or I wouldn't have led with the part about his trash cans if we had, but we did see Rick Fox, who absolutely no one knows but me, based on how unimpressed people have been when I tell the story, but, come on, how fitting that the one famous person I see in Los Angeles appeared on One Tree Hill.
I'm also fairly certain I saw either Carrot Top or Shaun White. They look surprisingly similar.
We slept unbelievably well that night, and even though I missed Kyle like you wouldn't believe, there really is something to be said about treating yourself to a night away from the kids every now and again, when you can sleep and sleep and sleep until the thought of mimosas and heavy carbs entices you out of bed at 10 a.m. (nearly noon Texas time!)
We grabbed coffee and were on our way to those very things -- mimosas and bread -- at a cute little breakfast place in Malibu in no time.
Los Angeles, you were good to us, albeit briefly, and one day I hope to give you a nice multiple-day visit. I've only really visited as a kid, with the traffic and Disneyland making the only lasting impressions, and then again only for work, with the long, dirty walk to the convention center standing out most. You have a lot more charm than I have given you credit for over the years, and it was a lovely 24-hour visit.
More on where we ate and the other places we visited along our trip later this week.