A Little Vacation

Honey, LAist loves you. We're sorry we got stoned last night and started asking angsty questions about who you'd want with you on a desert island, us or your ex. We were fools. And yeah, we can admit that when we got off the phone, we curled up with a pillow and spent a half hour listening to U2. But it's Monday now, and we each have a rush hour to fight. So while we take shifts smiling and coolly surveying the crowds, let's remember our long rainy weekend, our LA vacation at home, and all the perfect days we had together.

First of all, you left Hedwig here. We're glad you finally made us watch it. That guy Mitchell is a genius (we're gonna watch the special features tomorrow night.)

Secondly, thanks for being adventurous Wednesday and coming with us for Hungarian food over at Hortobagy in North Hollywood. It was impetuous of us to order the roast duck along with the veal paprikash, but we're random like that. Wasn't that dark Heineken awesome, too? We should get a case of the stuff.

We had fun on Thursday, strolling arm-in-arm to the Little Cave. Todd, the bartender (from the Private Party, that awesome telepresence-punk band) seemed to like you a lot. Did you notice how the Cave started pulling people in from the patio early? That's because they just opened their back room again, after it was closed down by those dastardly fire-marshals a few months ago.

When we walked back home, didn't it seem like it stopped raining just for us? It was the first time we weren't too careful about sleeping next to you...we figured if the worst we could do was to put your leg to sleep, we might as well get comfy. That thing you did though, when you started snapping your teeth maniacally around 4 AM, did have us a little jumpy.

And then there was Friday. Coffee and the LA Times, sitting under the trees by the brick façade at Kaldi Coffee in South Pasadena (that was Friday, right?) True, the chocolate-raspberry coffee technically qualifies as "hot fruit," but it's just as good iced. Wait. Was that another day? Because Friday was definitely the night we took the Gold Line up to Pasadena and saw all those incredible Mark Ryden paintings at the Museum of California Art. And you had such a lovely glow on your face as we drifted through the Pacific Asia Museum and you saw all those ancient ceramic dishes, glazed and smashed together in their abstract jumbles.

It was almost as warm as the glow you wore later that night.

Saturday was when we showed up too late for breakfast at Auntie Em's in Eagle Rock. Not that the sandwiches weren't great anyway, but that girl thought we were pretty funny trying to order pancakes at two in the afternoon (You're lucky: I'd have taken any excuse to cover you in maple syrup right about then.) After that, we tried to climb the Eagle Rock and found the bizarre procession of objects in the empty lot at the base...a lopped-off black ponytail, a bottle of Jagermeister, a condom wrapper; like someone had discovered their true self and sexuality all in one night out there on the broken glass, with the city lights twinkling below. And when we drove up to the landfill at the very top of Figueroa, just to check it out, you weren't scared of no toxic mutants; you were cool as a cucumber, baby.

Right around sunset, we got lost in Alhambra or Rosemead, trying to find the place the car had broken down once, but it was all worth it when we got there! Al's Bar, that's what it was called. On East Main Street, in San Gabriel. What a time-warp! We were the youngest people in that joint by thirty years. Those old men were so jealous.

After the party that night...when we swerved our way up Virgil to Tacos Mexico...man, those carnitas with the green salsa really hit the spot. We told you they'd be spicy enough to soothe your wild beasts.

We wish we could spend every day exploring with you, finding tables to sit and smoke at, just so we could gaze longlingly across them and imagine ripping your clothes off. We know life isn't always that simple, but let's go on vacation again soon! Maybe next time we can even leave the city. And we promise we'll leave the weed at home =)