Hollywood Recap

Whew! To say we had a good time in LA would be an understatement. But now I'm home in the chilly Northeast, suffering from what I can only describe as a Time Zone/ Travel hangover. Despite that, I feel compelled to write what I remember before it disappears into a foggy memory share with you, my bloggy buddies, in a picture-laden post. Shocking, right?

Bev got her paparazzi on when we spotted a car full of freaks. 'Cause, you know, we love freaks!

Only after snapping the shot did we realize the car was being driven by Kat Von D.
We tried to dispense some sage dating advice, but she just wasn't having it. Oh well. We tried.


On Saturday we had a lovely lunch at the famous Chateau Marmont with fellow blogger, Melissa. There's a picture of that but you won't be seeing it. Sadly, Bev's camera was set on Fun House Mirror filter. Shame, because the front desk clerk in-training probably got fired for taking our picture for us. Stupid No Photo policy.


Our hotel was ridiculously close to the Kodak Theater, home of the Oscars.

Hello Oscar!

The lovely Maeghan joined us for a Oscar Eve Party. Maeghan dubbed this our "reverse Oreo cookie" picture.



The giggling started then and lasted for the next 8 hours. Lucky for you, the party included an all-you-can-shot photo booth.

Fast forward to the next day, Oscar Time!


Hollywood Blvd, as well as the entire area around our hotel went into lock down. Tarp covered chain link fences appeared every where. Armed police and swat teams canvased the area and pat-downs were abundant (especially when you ask nicely).

We jockeyed for a decent view of the pretty people arriving. As you can see, we didn't get one.

Even Jesus couldn't resist the Oscar hoopla!

It made me feel better that even HE didn't get an invite.

So after going through the pat-down line enough times to raise suspicion realizing we couldn't see a damn thing, we went back to our room to watch it all on TV.... *sigh*

The next day, LaBev and I decided to take in some sight seeing.

Out of no where this seemingly friendly Aussie tourist pushed me over the cliff.

But I managed to survive!

Then a little light shopping...

Did I mention I got kicked out of a job at Prada on Rodeo Drive?

While on the sight seeing tour our guide showed us Bar Marmont and said how impossible it is to get in since it is the place to be.

Well, that sounds like a challenge, doesn't it?
Oh how we laugh at your challenges!

The Bar Marmont was fabulous; delicious food, tasty wine and it didn't hurt that our waiter was Orlando Bloom's doppelganger.

No, that never hurts.

We may also be engaged...

The following day we hit Venice Beach; an eclectic community of artists, free spirits... and this guy...

Bev dared me to steal his shillelagh.

And just as Bev and I ran out of hand sanitizer, my left coast BFF called with an invite to... wait for it..... THE MAGIC CASTLE!!!!!! The Magic Castle is an uber-exclusive members only club in Hollywood. My friend's business/writing partner/actor Steve was performing so we were put on the list. suh-weet!

The hitch was there's a dress code at the tres chic Castle. It's well documented I'm a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl so it's no surprise that my suitcase didn't contain a cocktail dress or evening gown.

So I did what any girl would do... we went to Bloomingdales... and bought a designer dress.

Amex may be delivering my next statement by truck next month.

We also hustled to shop for a matching pair of heels (again, shocking that my luggage only included flat, sensible shoes...oh, and snow boots. Mustn't forget snow boots in LA *palmface*). We were successful in finding a pair of black peep-toes.... and a $58 parking ticket. Fabulous.

I will never be able to describe the awesomeness that is the Magic Castle. And I don't have any pictures to document either since it's another photo free zone. Bev and I + a place where we couldn't continuously snap silly photos = torture!

We arrived, found our names scrawled on a cocktail napkin on the list, and approached the golden owl (OWL!!!)on the bookshelf, uttered the magic words and a secret panel opened up and gave us entrance into the super secret world of a members only club house.

Immediately I noticed Bev going a few shades grey and shaking a bit. I took that as my cue to shuffle her over to the bar and order her a drink STAT. Turned out it wasn't her thirst that rendered her speechless, but the sight of a certain A-lister, who I shall call HaveYa Gardamn.

After a little vino medication, all was right in the world again and Bev and I set out to scour the castle. It's AMAZING... all old Hollywood splendor from a bygone era meets the Haunted Mansion, complete with a piano playing ghost named Irma.

Here's Irma sitting at the piano with some guy, who's not dead. Thank you to the interwebs for the photo.
We opted out of Lady Gaga's Paparazzi and requested Irma to play Led Zeppelin's Kashmir - which she did....fabulously. She can play anything you request. Magic, right?

As you wonder the castle, magicians are putting on performances in intimate little theaters and private nooks. We sat in on Steve's performance and he was un-flippin-believable!!!! He even picked Bev to assist him in trick that still has us baffled. Magic, ya know. We chatted him up a bit after his performance and I thanked him for the autograph and swag he sent Morgan and Beck from his Disney show.

Eventually Bev and I found the exit the night came to an inevitable end. An unforgettable evening indeed.

A FABULOUS trip for sure.

Pre-Oscars Preparations

LaBev and I will be traveling to LaLa Land* to enjoy the pomp and circumstance of the Academy Awards... well, at least the hoopla behind the Kodak Theater. Yes, that's right, we'll be live from the alley behind the Oscars, right there between the dumpster and the passed out drunk in the SpongeBob costume. HUZZAH!

And just like the stars who will be using the front entrance, Bev and I are feverishly preparing to get glammed up! But unlike our starlet counterparts we haven't starved ourselves for the past two months we have to actually schlep through the mall to find clothing. Sadly, no designers have come knocking at our door, begging us to wear their clothes for free. Harry Winston, are you reading this?

Of course, it all starts with finding the perfect dress.

...which sadly, we didn't.

But at least we have the perfect footwear.
Classy, no?

Maybe we should focus on the accessories...

Do these make me look smaahhhhtttt?

A bird on the head is worth.... ummm... $3.99, according to Claire's.

OWLS!!! What does it mean?!?!

l'élastique rend parfait, non?

after eating a carb-filled lunch hours of shopping, Bev and I were exhausted and we got, perhaps, a little lazy in our quest for the perfect Oscar outfit.

I'm the second from the left... in case you didn't know.

Bev tires of taking her clothes off and finds an easier way to try on outfits.

In the end, we were asked to leave by mall management unsuccessful in our search for our red carpet back alley outfits.

So as it stands, Bev and I will be wearing sweats.

...unless we can borrow the Spongebob costume.

*barring any emergency surgeries or something.

Learning To Fly

Yes, yes, yes I've been a very bad blogger. Actually, can I really still consider myself a blogger? Doesn't one have to blog to be a blogger. Yes, bad form indeed.

But moving on.

...or rather, catching up.

Have I ever mentioned I'm a bit on the spontaneous side? Impulsive even, perhaps. Well, I am. Recently, while I was to go visit the local grocery store, I was in a mental slump. It was a beautiful day and I had no good excuse to be so, well, slumpy. So I decided I needed a change in perspective.

This was the new vantage point I needed:

There's no sensation to compare with this
Suspended animation, a state of bliss

I stopped into my neighborhood airfield where a kindly, yet frightfully elderly, pilot risked his, mine and a few hundred earth-bound beings' lives to give me a crash course...no, no...that's not right, let's say, a cliff notes version of a flying lesson. Fifteen minutes on the ground going over all the doohickeys and things that go ping. Then it was all 'contact', propeller spinning and before I knew it I was taxing down the runway.

Did you know that while on the ground, the little steering wheel thing does you no good? A few close calls off the runway and I finally understood that point.

And while thoughts of a certain DeLorian ran threw my head, we sped faster and faster down the runway and suddenly were airborne. Incredible. While Capt. Ancient shouted commands of the things I've only briefly learned about, and in my shear panic of actual flight, had now completely forgotten about, we dipped and weaved, and bumped our way into the clear blue sky. I may or may not have wet myself at this point. Honestly, I was sweating too much to be certain.

Since we had an hour to burn in the friendly skies, Mr. Wright asked me where I would like to go. I requested a fly over my farm. Thankfully he took the controls as I snapped pictures. I snapped pictures. very. slowly.


Eventually he insisted I take back the controls and we continued our flight. I flew west and circled around my Dad's house and finally turned back towards the airport. He went over all the steps to landing all the while my mind kept shouting over the sound of his voice, "you're freakin' crazy!!!!", so I missed most of the directions. Maybe I could just take some pictures as we land, no?

As we passed over the main road and I could actually see into people's car windows, I felt another surge of panic. He told me to idle down the engine, line up to the runway, BUT DON'T LOOK AT THE RUNWAY! because apparently, if you do, you're more likely to nose-dive into it. Oh good gawd! So with white knuckles, heart palpitations and a renewed will to live, I fixed my eyes past the runway...but only before I notice Amelia Earhart's Dad now sat next to me, slightly leaning back with his arms firmly crossed, like he was welcoming certain death. Nooooooooooo!!!!!!!!
I held back the urge to cry...or scream, and idled the engine to a near halt, tipped the nose up and...

Gently now, you just wanna kiss the ground, just a little peck, a smooch like you're kissing your sister.

TERRA FIRMA!

And again, that steering wheel thing doesn't help once you're on the ground. Slow, eh?
But after a few quick detours off the tarmac, and back on again, I nervously guided the plane off the runway and to it's parking spot next to other expensive planes I could easily wipe out with one false move. The sound of cutting engine was the sweetest of all.

Another item off the bucket list. Check and mark!

But wait there's more...

Another item on my list; see The Wall live. And well, since the original tour was when I was 4 or 5 years old, that item seemed to have no hopes of being fulfilled without a time machine.

...until Roger Water announce a new tour earlier this year!

Pink Floyd The Wall has been my favorite film for the past 20 years. Call me crazy, call me morose, but I LOVE that film and album.

Well the concert, or rather theatrical performance did not disappoint! It was INCREDIBLE! Our seats were right on the floor, which of course was super cool!


I can't say I've attended many concerts that were this emotional. Roger Water's has tweaked the message a bit from his personal loss of his father to war, to how we all lose something to war; loved ones, freedom, humanity, innocence. On all sides.

08:45 was a super cool moment!

If the tour comes to your neighborhood, run like hell to see it.

hee, get it?

Roger Waters channels his inner Richard Gere;











Morgan channels her inner Bob Geldof.















Goodbye, blue sky