Over the Easter weekend, my best friends and I gathered in Los Angeles for a weekend of mimosas, brunching, hiking, and exploring. Oh, and just generally existing in the sunshine. It would be remiss to leave that off the report, because HELLO AMAZING.
Spending a weekend in 70 degree weather, sans rain, has essentially confirmed that I have some sort of seasonal affective disorder (SAD! And really, just so sad) because I was more energized and happy than I’ve been in awhile. Who knew drinking cocktails outside, sans jacket, could do that for a person?
Further, I’m going on the record to say that I really liked LA. Like, a lot. I suspect this makes me some sort of insane person, but I found the people to be friendly, warm, and lovely, and Griffith Observatory and the Getty Museum, in particular, were fabulous.
Remember how I went to New York and came back all “Meh, it was fun, but don’t ask me to live there”? I expected to return from LA feeling that way as well, but nay. I was charmed, CHARMED, I tell you, by this strange place with the highest concentration of rich, skinny blonde people outside Scandinavia.
But it’s true. New York can be emo and broody and uppity if it wants. The pretty people and I will be drinking outside in the sun.