Oct 24, 2001
Los Angeles as seen by drunk folks downhill
Well, it just goes to show you. People from San Diego can come up to visit me and sweep me off my feet with their ability to have a wild time. I went and had dinner at Asia de Cuba at the Mondrian, snuck into the Skybar during a party for Better than Sex, went to the Saddle Ranch Inn? Chop House? Something? and watched people fall off the mechanical bull. There was some sort of Snoop Dogg event going on at the House of Blues. The entire evening just felt quintessentially L.A.
During a conversation about Relax by Frankie Goes to Hollywood, I felt inexplicably drawn to kiss my sister on the mouth. But I didn't. I just told her about it and drew delight from making her uncomfortable.
There was a girl at the Saddle Ranch place who must have caught my sister disapproving of her outfit. She said she doesn't usually dress like this, but she's getting married next Friday. I said I knew there must be a bachelorette party in house because I had seen a number of penis-shaped name tags on the floor in the ladies' room. Staci. Jan! etc. Apparently, the bride-to-be was Staci herself. She was very nice and confessed to being a school teacher. I wished her the best and encouraged her to live it up. That was my good deed.
I'm a little bit tipsy and a little bit concerned about the amount of work I didn't do tonight. But I think I will sleep like a sweet Chinese cherub, sans the harp-strumming.
This all convinces me of one thing: L.A. is for sharing with other people. L.A. is for showing to visiting friends. It's never better here than when it's wowing someone not from here. Does that make sense? I'm not sure if it does.
I wish we hadn't had such a decadent meal, and I wish I hadn't had quite so much sangria. But I feel sexy tonight. And just this side of carefree. It's nice. Bob said some incredibly generous and encouraging things to me tonight at dinner. When I am most in the throes of self-doubt, when I am most perilously concerned about what will become of me from one day to the next, there always manages to be a voice of goodwill and tender friendship to alert me to the fact that there are things in me worthy of love and admiration. It's nice to be reminded of that.
posted by Mary Forrest at 12:18 AM | Back to Monoblog