weekend that wasn't mine

Ahoy,

A's long time high school friend visited us this past weekend. For the first time in a long time apparently, so A pulled out all the stops for her.

Friday morning, he collected his friend from the airport and we proceeded to get food at Amandine. I had an awful sandwich plagued by horseradish. Not my best decision. We decided to tote our guest around downtown by foot. A lot of people would not expect to walk in LA as much as we did that day.  Also, LA has a train (pause for resounding gasping). I got my usual 32 oz horchata, and he got a mountain of meat because it was the end of the day and everyone was being particularly generous at Grand Central Market. We sat atop the roof at The Perch. The view is not nearly as impressive as in Chicago, but I guess I'll take it. At Grand Park, nobody wanted to dip their toes in the fountain. I was surprised because I couldn't get my friends out of there when I showed them. We ended the day at Daikokuya and Ozero while the RRS and I sat like hood ornaments amidst a super gossip/gabfest between our guest and another high school friend we met. I would rather have been climbing, and I truly believe our absence would not have been felt.

On Saturday the guest and companion previously mentioned wanted to go to the beach. I will be the first to admit going to the beach during the day is last on my list of things to do. I would rather be climbing, which is what happened. Afterwards, we got to munch on rice balls, which I'm always delighted with. Always. Plus we caught happy hour at areal, as if we are not indulgent enough. On the way to dinner at the L&E Oyster Bar, we got ice cream sandwiches at Milk. We tried and failed to watch a second movie, but noticed it was sold out probably because we tried to watch it during normal-people hours and not past-your-bedtime hours. So I guess we could have been more indulgent. But really, so glad I avoided the beach and the art museum that day. I'm just dodging them left and right!

Sunday brunch was at this French place nearby, which I will not name because it was not worth it. The folks who met us there were hungover and looking to cure it by drinking more before heading off. We spent the afternoon driving around. Driving around is my least favorite thing to do. Of all time. Had I been warned, I would have run for the hills like the plague was coming. Dinner was at sugarfish in Brentwood, against A's apprehension because he thinks the one in Santa Monica is the best one even though he's never been to any of the other ones. Heads up: you need a kid to get a bowl of rice. Sometimes I really do think kids get to have all the fun.


On Monday, I went with our guest downtown to for lunch at Bottega Louie. The Last Bookstore was the last stop before we headed back to Culver City to gawk at the graffiti and await the return of the RRS. The highlight of my day, nay, weekend was meeting Benjamin Mach from Project Runway at the airport as we dropped off our guest. Everyone is always so much taller than me. It's amazing, but I guess it's pretty easy to be taller than me. He's a super nice guy.


dastardly dismissed,
jt