When I was in my early twenties, I was lucky enough to meet a great group of girlfriends in LA who became like family. They, like me, loved life’s little luxuries—great restaurants, designer clothes, and yes, fab hotels. We couldn’t afford any of them, but somehow we would scrape together enough to try one hot spot every month, wearing something new for which we no doubt fought to the death at a sample sale. We dreamed of travel, but the only way to do it in style was for all of us to pile in the cheapest room at the best hotel. One of these rooms was at the legendary Hotel Del Coronado, where five us happily shared one regular room—two to each bed and one on a cot!
I’m sure it was only yesterday that I was celebrating my twenty-second birthday, leaving behind everything that had shaped my life until that point. The next day, my dad and I piled in my overstuffed white Honda Accord, and headed West: a paradox of emotions, mostly utter heartbreak for my parents, who gave me their support through tear-streaked smiles of encouragement. I’ll never forget that first night after my dad dropped me off at my new temporary home in Studio City, with two girls I barely knew, but who became family during those formative years. Becky, or “Big Boo,” as she was soon known to me, took me to the Hollywood Bowl impressing me with pool circle seats, and I thought I was hot stuff. They had a black kitty named Surrender, whom I quickly befriended, and Kelly gave up her bedroom for six weeks until I found a suitable roommate and an apartment.
Being from the South, it’s always confusing to me that summer ends for the rest of the country before it really gets started in L.A. It doesn’t get consistently hot until July, and pretty much stays warm—at least during the day—until after the holidays. Though we may not get to pull out our sweaters and boots for a while, there is still something about the change in light that puts me in the mood for a more regimented schedule. I look forward to more leisurely dinners at home, finding a new show to obsess over, and going in search of one fallen leaf in the City of Angels. Until then, I’m going to soak up these last weeks of summer, and possibly celebrate my birthday (Monday) for the rest of the month! Scroll down to see what’s on my list of fun things to do in L.A. before the end of summer.
The Mister and I just got back from a week at the legendary Golden Door wellness retreat in San Marcos, CA. It’s rare that I write about my clients here because, well, they pay me! But I am so passionate about the mission of Golden Door that I thought it was high time I give you a little peek on the other side of The Door. Most of the weeks are women-only, but this particular week was a coed vintners week, meaning the wine flowed as deeply as the yoga.
Bucket List Worthy Getaways Close to Los Angeles
Last week I took a little road trip up to Santa Barbara to visit my bestie Jenn at her family’s beach house that literally sits right on the sand. Not only was she my partner in business, but also my partner in crime, and having her move all the way to Dallas has been one of the bigger heartbreaks of my life.
On our way up to Napa a few weeks ago, we stopped at one of the incredible Merry Cherry’s fruit stands, and bought a basket of cherries and two peaches that we bit into right then and there, unwashed, letting the juice drip down our arms. It was a spiritual experience. Since then, I’ve eaten peaches at every possible chance—in North Carolina over the Fourth, and last weekend from our local farmer’s market.