I’m currently sat at a cake shop on Ventura Boulevard looking like a displaced piece of 80s pop trash. This morning, I decided to put on a long black Stevie Nicks style skirt, an oversize denim jacket with purple triangle parches adorning the sleeves, and a pair of white kitten heeled boots with pastel flowers around the ankles. It’s a great outfit, but one becomes more self conscious about their bold fashion choices when they’re over an hour early to a dinner date and have to wander around strip malls full of closed shops to kill time. Also these shoes are not the most comfy, and I needed to sit down. Thank goodness this cake shop was open. Now I can at least chill out for a moment while I wonder how much judgement I’m earning from the two guys working here who were probably hoping to close early before I walked in. One of them is slowly sweeping the floor and wiping down tables. Oh well, I have at least 28 more minutes until they can legally kick me out. I’ve ordered a tea and a massive coconut macaroon. Even though I had ice cream an hour ago. It was really good too, basically a slice of berry pie mashed up in vanilla ice cream. And then I’ll be getting sushi soon as well. It seems I’m very determined to avoid the stereotype that everyone in LA is skinny, at least based on today’s eating habits.
I’m staying with my friend Keana, who was my housemate in college but lives out here now. I think the two of us make each other more indulgent than we might be otherwise. I recall one Easter Sunday, when we slept in late, then drove to Whole Foods and loaded our baskets with macaroons, cupcakes, avocado oil potato chips, fresh berries, and almond milk iced coffee. When we got home, we laid out a blanket in the front lawn and lounged in our swimsuits, soaking up the sun and eating our treats. I’m not religious, but I like to think Jesus would have approved. I love seeing her. We pick up where we left off, and our conversation is always comfortable and flowing. We shower each other in affection and compliments, laugh at each other’s dumb jokes, and sing along loudly to songs in the car. It’s been four years since she moved out here, but we’ve still managed to see each other quite a bit, even with the distance. I think that’s the best anyone can do, but we’re lucky that it’s been an easy friendship, even through all the time apart.
This sushi place I’m going for dinner, Katsu-Ya, I’ve been to once before, with the same people I’m meeting this time. It’s a man I met at a writing retreat in Aspen, Sean, and his wife. When I met him, I was a mere freshman in college, having just been accepted to the acting BFA program. I was the only person under 30 in our little writing class, and was intimidated to say the least. But I got chatting with him and found out that he had graduated from the same acting program which I was about to start, and so had his wife. They live in LA now, where he works as a writer and she leads a belly dancing troupe. We’ve stayed in touch since then, them coming out to stay with my family, me visiting them in LA, I even visited him on a film set in Prague one lush weekend last summer. During my senior year spring break, I stayed with them in LA for a few days, and we went to this restaurant. I had never tried raw fish sushi before, having been a vegetarian most of my life, but wanted to be polite and give everything a try. It was one of the most amazing meals I’ve ever had. Probably aided by an excess of wine, but nevertheless.
I’ve left the coffee shop. I’m now sat on the side of a fountain outside of a Starbucks. I finished the macaroon and my tea, and have purchased a kombucha, because I felt bad wandering around CVS for 10 minutes and not buying anything. Not that they’re desperately in need of the cash, I’m just awkward. It’s very a very spicy and gingery kombucha. The fountain is splashing lightly, so a little mist is getting on my notebook as I’m writing this. It’s actually quite cold out tonight. It’s been a bit of a chilly trip to LA this time around. It rained for a while yesterday, and earlier today, sitting out on the beach was a tad chilly. It was still lovely though. The wind blew ocean air all around us, and the sun snuck in past the clouds every so often to warm us up a bit.
This whole past hour, I’ve had Free Fallin’ by Tom Petty stuck in my head. Probably because being on Ventura Blvd made a connection to whatever part of my brain keeps a very good archive of song lyrics:
All the vampires, walkin’ through the valley
Move west down Ventura Boulevard
And all the bad boys are standing in the shadows
And the good girls are home with broken hearts.
It’s probably time for me to head to dinner. I’m still about 15 minutes early, but at least I can go sit inside and wait. I’ve chugged this kombucha, which has left my mouth burning, but I feel like a real local ingesting something expensive, organic, and supposedly good for gut health. I don’t know if I’m the best at killing time, particularly when my phone is dying and I need to save battery so I can get an Uber back down to Keana’s this evening. But this has been good. I need to take more time to write like this, even if it’s rather meandering and pointless. I like to think our teacher at the writing retreat back in 2013 would be a bit proud of me for trying. Who knows.










