Monday, March 3, 2008

Girls' Weekend!

Shame on me for waiting so long to post. Crazy, and I mean crazy, month.

Rather than verbally throw up all over this blog, and inducing you all to do the same on your computers, I'll spare you the events of the last month and just share with you my favorite highlight: my recent weekend in LA!

Do you know those friends whose mere presence is absolutely restorative to you? Whom you could do absolutely nothing with, and still have a total blast? Who "remind you of yourself," as my lovely friend Jon put it?

That is how I feel about Jeff, Jon, and Eddy.

Jeff and Eddy have an adorable condo in West Hollywood that Jon and I lust after. Jon lives in midtown Sacramento and is the sassy office manager of the magazine where he, Jeff and I used to work. Jon and I flew to LA on Friday, and jetted out Sunday. In between? One continuous dance party! (With brief breaks for bowling and viewings of Madonna's "Confessions Tour" on DVD. Which Jeff and Eddy own.)

Now, all three of these men are ridiculously gorgeous. It's amusing when we go out together, because random guys will "flirt" with me so that I'll introduce them to my beautiful male companions. I guess it's like the time I invited Emily Weinberger to my birthday party in the third grade because she was friends with Mark Keaton who was so cute! Right?

But anyway, I dig it: I do put the "ass" in "ambassador," after all.

Friday night, we went to this club whose proper title I can't remember now, but goes by "PopStarz" every Friday. The "z" is intentional. Saturday night, we went to Here, a neighborhood joint that is a sea of well-defined pectorals come 11pm. Ample dance floors and brightly-colored drinks at both! My people, indeed. Some say "fag hag," I say "kindred spirit."

The best part of Saturday night, however, was walking out in a massive crowd and hearing Jon somewhere in the midst saying, "Ooookay....that's about enough." I turn around and he is gingerly peeling away some other male's poor arms, tightly wound around Jon's neck from behind. Bless his little heart.

Eddy prompted a fashion show for us at some point back at the apartment, with ginormous 6-inch sparkly heels and white patent leather boots! I'm still unclear on the event these will eventually be put to use for (do you even need a reason?), but anyway we all took turns modeling and took pictures. Is a slumber party forming in your mind? That is what it was!

There was also: bowling in the same complex where the Kodak Theatre (cough cough Oscars! cough) is located, a viewing of Ricky from My So-Called Life at this yummy Brazilian restaurant, and my opportunity to use a restroom in which The Doors recorded "LA Woman." Who, me?

On my last morning in LA, I ate the most heavenly Eggs Florentine at a greasy spoon diner on Sunset. But diner or no, it's still LA, and our car was valeted. Valeted! I love it. I also had the realization that my favorite trashy reality show, "The Rock of Love" was being recorded mere footsteps away. Amber, can you hear me? I'm pulling for ya girl! And Destiny, you need to chill out before you give yourself a hernia.

One last little badass friend Jeff is going to start writing for the LA Times. He is a young writing prodigy. Jeff, you are one of my role models.

Anyway, by the end of it all, I returned to Austin complete. I guess sometimes you need another city to make you feel at home again.

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