Milking the last bits of summer for all they're worth on my friend Jeff's fire escape, beers in hand.

Lights, camera.

On our last night in LA, we stopped off at the LA County Museum of Art and poked around Chris Burden's installation. I am sure that we are ruining the backgrounds of at least three engagement shoots as well. 

Blue skies.

After the gorgeous wedding festivities concluded, we headed back down the sun-drenched coastline, got off the congested highway and zoomed through winding back roads, meandered through Malibu, and wound up back in Santa Monica. When the sun went down, the lights came out, and none were lovelier than the lamps at the LA County Museum of Art. 

Take me to San Luis, Luis.

A and I drove up the coast to San Luis Obispo the next morning, to join in some wedding festivities. I was anticipating a gorgeous, sunny drive along the ocean (and planned the roadtrip mixes accordingly). What we actually encountered was this:
Oh well. 
Just as I was lamenting our luck, we zipped around a hill and ended up in this: 

That's better.
We got into town and had a little bit of time to kill before the rehearsals began. What to do? That was quickly answered when we passed by this glowing invitation:
Have you heard of the Madonna Inn? If not, Google image that stuff immediately. I'll wait.
Piiiiink pink pink, themed rooms, glass goblets, cakes that look like Never-foods from the movie "Hook".  We were confused and delighted. I took a few quick shots, but I couldn't come close to capturing the gilded essence.

We dragged two of our friends back down there in the evening for cocktails/ ridiculously fancy rootbeer floats and watched ballroom dancers [one was 93!] waltz the night away to a live band. It was
beautifully unreal.

We discovered a Belgian beer and fry joint, had a wonderful dinner [no pictures of any of the main events, of course], danced at the Madonna Inn, and rounded out the night at the nearby drive-in, covered in popcorn.

Munch munch munch.

After brunch, we waddled down the street from Julia's apartment to take in the La Brea Tar Pits. What a smell! They weren't lying. We were unprepared for the heartbreaking and yet comical stuck-mammoth-statues, the random pits that pop up and are coned off, and most especially for the giant sloths.
Birthday times rolled on at Babycakes for gluten free donuts, a visit to the incredibly weird Museum of Jurassic Technology [a whole post in itself] and a final stop at the Misfit Bar in Santa Monica, where copious amounts of snacks were consumed. We should not be allowed at tapas establishments, as we have no self-control: mac and cheese [for all! no sharing!], grilled artichoke, corn on the cob, tomato soup, piles of shoestring potatoes. We were very happy girls.

Alexandra AS a bear.

A Vida Portuguesa

I wanted one new blog post in 2017, with the promise to myself to document my travels in the new year, before I completely forget the a...