I am out of titles.
I was going to post this on July 4th, but seeing that I will be where this picture was taken (neener, neener), it's going up today as an early Happy Fourth of July! (Okay, fine. There is wireless at the beachhouse. But part of my going down there is to Get Away From Technology, which apparently is good for you every once in awhile.)
So this trip has been oddly productive (as opposed to when I just laze in the hammock killing brain cells with trashy novels and drinking lemonade). I've a new apartment, about which I'm very happy, as I am the worst apartment-hunter ever. Find me something with a dishwasher and a garbage disposal, and I'm happy. I really don't ask too many questions, which is perhaps a bad thing, but I've been largely happy with my apartments so far. Luckily, this apartment has the added perk of a nice LARGE walk-in closet - absolutely necessary for all those shoes and (unworn) cocktail dresses I have.
If that wasn't all exciting enough, I had the added benefit of meeting two people whom previously I'd only known through their comments on this site. (Did you two really think you'd get away without my writing something?)
Thursday night, I had the great honour of meeting Jen, of Sunday Undies fame. She is so totally cute, but not in a pejorative way. I once had this guy I dated (for a very SHORT time) tell me that for a female to be called cute was her death knell, but what does he know? He's a French-hating Republican currently in law school (and not just any school, but That School Which Shall Not Be Named). That digression aside, she is cute in the good sense, and patient too, as I was a touch late and left her sitting alone at a bar surrounded by a crowd of what can may be described as West Village types on crack (okay, I'm exaggerating a little bit) because I took a few wrong turns getting there. I know people say to follow your gut and I generally abide by this principle because it is a good one - except when I'm driving. When I'm driving, my gut likes to test me by ALWAYS having me take the wrong turn. Hrmph. And I know that while she's sad about the Austrian leaving, she so won't have any problems finding someone else, if so desired. Anyways we had a wonderful converation, wherein we decided that Hahvard MBA candidates were assholes while their UCLA counterparts were fine, she gave me tips on where to find cute furniture for my new apartment, and she promised that she'd come over for dinner parties when I'm finally back for good. I can't wait!
The next morning, again I was a tad bit late (I could have called, perhaps, but I was on the phone with my friends trying to figure out exactly how close I was to where I was going in order to determine whether or not I should call), to meet DDJ for what can only be termed a delightful sushi lunch. He's another patient person, putting up with me when I got lost (I'm telling you, that gut instinct likes to mess with me), when I switched lanes and nearly ran over other people several times (really, it's because I was driving a larger car than I'm used to, I swear I'm not a bad driver), and when I tried to find beach but wouldn't you know it, Newport Beach's beach is nigh upon impossible to find. Urbane, I think, would be a good word to describe him, with his stylish shirt and well-spoken ways. Why he's still single I do not know. But regardless, it's only a matter of time before he's totally convinced that moving to LA is the right decision and actually does so.
Anyhow, my ride's here and it's off to the beach. You can sigh over pictures like this and this. Happy Fourth, and don't let any errant fireworks burn your tiki hut down!
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