72 and Snowy

Yesterday I got to play around in the snow. It was man-made snow, but still a good time. A festival had ordered snow and it rained so they weren't able to use it by the date, so they donated the snow to the Pasadena Ronald McDonald House. They're a client, so I was pitching cute kiddos playing in the snow in 70 degree weather to the news media and got a bite. All in all this snow day was a win-win.

The local Fire Department came by and got into a snowball fight with the kids.

This little girl was enamored by the camera. 

I Went to San Diego and Came back With Photos...and Allergies

There's something about clean, ocean air that doesn't agree with me because I was in San Diego for three days, two nights (on a work-related trip that included some delicious food) and by day three was so clogged that I was begging for the ability to breathe.

Two days after being back and I'm still draining, which is as lovely as it sounds. The one bonus is that my body is exhausted so I'm going to bed before 10 p.m. and skipping my morning run for more sleep. At least it's Friday.

In case you needed proof that I'm alive since I've been ignoring this blog for two weeks, here are the best things that I brought back from San Diego:

This was the view of a little cove next to the restaurant where we had some of the best shrimp and bananas foster cake I've ever had in my life. What's not captured is the loud moaning of seals in the cave that echoed out. 

If you look closely on the rock, you can spot three seals. Do you see them?

My favorite picture. It was a pretty sunset and the wine was good. Sometimes I forget that I live here.
This is a great reminder. 

World's Worst Tan

Last week I worked a golf tournament for Ronald McDonald House Charities of Southern California (they're a client). It felt like old times. Running around in golf carts. Odd groups of guys (and a smattering of women) playing weird golfing games (scramble, closest to the pin, double your money) in even weirder clothing--I've never been one for polo shirts myself.  All in the name of raising money for a great organization. 

My favorite celebrity sighting was Ronald McDonald and his awesomely appropriate hat. It was made of a golfing green with a pin and a golf ball on fishing line that swung around it. Pure genius.

The difference in this tournament and the ones that I've worked in Tennessee is that it wasn't balls hot. Meaning the day was lovely and sunny and pretty much perfect like most days in Southern California. Despite this, I took precaution and sprayed myself liberally with SPF 30 while staying under an umbrella.

Apparently the sun shifted my coverage because about an hour before the tournament was over my necklace was causing pain in my neck--which had burned on one side. Then my calf felt hot. So I limped around with a beet red neck and one circle of redness on my left calf. It was fine, but now I'm left with the aftermath: The world's worst tan. I have one spot of tanned leg and a stunningly beautiful neck. And everything else is as pale as can be.

This wouldn't normally be a problem but today is my cousin's outdoor wedding aside from the peplum tank and long shorts pictured, I have nothing that's going to help even out this tan. I guess I'll just have to go home looking like the camouflage the military uses in Afghanistan.

Best Wishes, Lauren!

It was a Month since I Slept in A Bed

California Hot

This is a little embarrassing to admit, but last night was the first night in more than a month that I slept in a bed. You might ask why and the answer is simple: it's been hot as balls.

Or at least "California hot." I firmly believe that each state has it's own version of hot. In Indiana, hot meant that it felt like you were stepping into a bath tub when the front door opened and you were on things like "Ozone alerts" when it got really hot. For those of you not in the know, an "ozone alert" day meant that you should not go to the drive-thru or mow your lawn. I assume as to not contribute to more ozone-destroying behavior, but I can't be entirely too sure.

In Tennessee, hot was similar to that of Indiana but with a valley that just managed to recycle heat over and over. It also had a tendency to rain for a few hours which just made it hotter.

California hot is easily the most bearable of the hots I'm most accustomed to (I'm not even going to mention the week I was in New Orleans in June--that's just a swampland of crazy people). It's undeniably hot--lately it's been over 100 degrees each day, but it's not necessarily humid so it feels nicer. It's hard to explain that to people who've lived here their whole lives, but any transplant from the South knows what I'm talking about.

Anyway, it's been hot here and part of being in California where it's only normally hot like 5 days a year means that there aren't a lot of apartments or condos or houses with central heat and air. It's just not a necessity which means that they don't invest in it. So, our apartment has a window AC unit in the living room which doesn't get the bedroom cool AT ALL. Usually we just turn the AC off and open the bedroom windows. But after two days of tossing and turning because I was roasting in my sleep, I decided to take matters into my own hands and move my bedding into the living room where I could sleep in direct air-shot of the air conditioning.

At first it felt like camping out to have our stuff strewn in our living room. And I LOVED snuggling down at night and watching TV with Chef and not worrying about when he was coming to bed. Plus we trained the cats to sleep together instead of alternating some to leave out of the bedroom. It felt like a pallet of loveliness. So much so that I just kept it out. Who needs a living room floor anyway? We don't have kids so it's not hurting anyone. It's kind of like having cereal for dinner for a week straight. As an adult, it's my prerogative.

I was getting ready to pick it up last week and then a huge heatwave came in and it was back to 100-plus degree temperatures, so that wasn't happening. Last night, I finally threw in the comforter and picked it up. Our living room has never looked so big. And you'd like that I would've missed my bed more than I have, but I have to say, it was nice to change things up for a while. A new scene. Plus if I ever had to get rid of my bed, I know that I could handle it just fine.

Ordeal for a license plate

Today I worked from home so that  I could go and get my license plate and register my car in California. I'm officially sad about this. I hated changing my Indiana plates for Tennessee ones when I moved, but the fact that Tennessee had an IU license plate buffered that transition. Now I'm losing my Tennessee and IU car connections. Bummer.

And to make matters worse, I go to the registration branch of the DMV and am told that my car needs to be inspected and to pull it along the side of the building and wait. If it weren't for a very nice security guard, I might've waited there all day. But he helped, got inspected and I was ushered inside. I get my number sit in my chair and only have to wait about 10 minutes. Holy crap! I thought. Today's my lucky day! But it wasn't until I got up the window that troubles began. I handed the lady my current Tennessee registration.

Lady at window #13: No, I need your registration card.

Me: This is my registration card. It's from Tennessee.

#13: I see it's from Tennessee but it says "application" at the top. I need the little card that actually is your registration.

Me: This is my registration. I promise you.

#13: No, it's not.

Me: I lived there for 9 years. Every time I was given a registration-all 9 times--this was it. When I was pulled over by a cop, I handed him this.

She then heavy sighs and goes to find a thick book. She consults the book and says "this isn't your registration. I can start your papers today, but you'll have to bring back your registration." I wasn't going to take that so while she was typing away, I called the County Clerk in Nashville and got a very nice lady who when told of my predicament said "Ugh. California calls us about 5 times a week because they refuse to post our samples. The book they look in hasn't been updated in decades."

Me: So if I asked you for a registration card, what would that look like?

TN lady: Exactly what you're holding in your hand. That's your registration.  They do this all the TIME! I'm gonna fax your registration and a blank one. Put me on with your person.

Me to #13: She wants to talk to you. The TN registration person. . .

#13: I can't get on the phone.

Me: But she wants to fax the info to you and talk to you about updating your records.

#13: I can't talk on the phone.

Me to TN: She won't get on the phone.

TN: Of course, she won't Sorry, I'm not fussin' at you (which I LOVED by the way). I'll fax that right now.

I pay and go back to wait while they wait on my fax. Fax comes through, I go BACK up to the window to hear: Okay, all you have to do is bring in your smog test and we'll give you your plates.

Me: I called this office yesterday to ask if I needed a smog test and was told I wouldn't because my car was within the 6 year window.

#13: But you're new to the state, so you'd have to get one.

Me: SERIOUSLY??! I specifcially called to get this answered and what you're telling me is that they gave me wrong information.

#13: Yes. Get your smog check and then come back.

At this point, I'm about to go ape shit, but I just huff out, go get a smog check and then wait in line to get a number, and then wait in line to see a representative. Who then took my paperwork and says "This isn't the Tennessee registration card." Five more minutes of explanation and then I FINALLY get my license plates. Yes, plates, because California is one of those places that makes you have one on front and one on back.

Total time getting this stupid errand done: 2 hours, 54 minutes.

I miss Tennessee. And Indiana.

It's Summer (Check Local Listings for Season in Your Area)

Okay, here's a weird thing about living in California: the use of July 4th as the first official day of summer. I think it's partly because school gets out later, but its clearly different than the rest of the country that uses Memorial Day as the beginning of summer.

Even if it's not officially summer, it felt like it last week when I took the Pacific Coast Highway home. I think it might become a habit. There's a traffic time sign at various points on my journey home. I think if the first one reads 50 minutes or more to make it to my first change of freeways, then I'm going to just take the PCH. Normally, it would take longer, but with the delays, it can cut come time off. And aside from that, it's just gorgeous.

One of the things I like about where I work is that its nestled in the mountains. I get to travel through the valleys and see some scenic areas. And when I take the PCH, the trip is all the more lovely. The cars were littered across the way with surfboards poking at the back. There were tons of surfers floating on their bobbing boards. And it was 6 p.m. There are days when I get so caught up that I forget that I work in California. I live near the coast. It is perpetually summer. And I need to bask in that more.

A Bulldog and a Huskie Walked Onto a Court

Or at least they will. Tomorrow night. And if it weren't for Facebook you wouldn't know it in California.

There are many delights to living on the west coast, but one of the things I have a hard time adapting to is the utter lack of interest in most sports. There are some rabid Lakers fans, but even those people really know little outside of professional basketball. So honestly, that makes them less of a sports fan that a specialist. And you only really need a specialist when it's something like a medical problem.

So we're one day out from a national championship game and mums the word around here. And what's worse is that I have a work thing tomorrow night until about 9 p.m. So if you can't get a hold of me, know that I'm again under social media sequester.

And until then, GO BUTLER! Any team from Indiana is a team I'll support!

Rainy Days and Sickness Get Me Down

It's raining again in LA. That's enough to make at least 10 percent of the 8 million SoCal residents act like idiots on the road. Chef and I went out this morning (because you can usually avoid just about any crowd by doing things before noon in LA), and got back to the house a little before 2 p.m. --right before the rain started falling.

The thing about rainy LA days are that they seem so rare that it almost gives you permission to be lazy. Add to that the fact that I've been fighting various kinds of illness all week and it was enough to say "Let's stay at home and watch movies."

Seriously, I can't seem to shake feeling sick. Never bad enough to warrant anything other than going to be bed early, but still. Not cool. I had a full blown cold on Sunday--cold but running a fever, lethargic, and stuffed up. So, I went to bed and stayed in bed until I got up for work on Monday. I fought the cold with daily doses of Theraflu, DayQuil and NiQuil.

That worked for the most part, but the cold then turned into major allergies. I think it's the moisture around here that flipped the switch. I sneezed in my office all day on Thursday and Friday. It's not so professional to have toilet paper hanging out of your blazer pocket, but a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do.

The congestion is still residing in my nasal passages, but luckily the sound like a man voice is gone. I'm still taking Afrin and shivering in the "cold." I know 55 degrees isn't cold. But with some rain and a wind, the chill through the bone is enough to have me and Chef under blankets.

I know the rain is supposed to be here tomorrow too, but I'm hoping for at least some sunshine on Monday. My visitors deserve the best of what California has to offer.

It Doesn't Really Feel Like Christmas

First of all, let me say that I'm not complaining about weather. I mean, one of the reasons we moved here was to have some nice weather. However, when it's December 17th and there are palm trees around, it seems weird to think that in a week it'll be Christmas and it's rainy and 60 degrees out. There's no chance of a white Christmas, and I'm okay with that.

It's just the lack of acknowledgement that it is Christmas time. I knew this one was going to be a weird one anyway. It's my first Christmas in California and my first Christmas in my life that I won't be with my family. Well, not all of my family. I would be remiss if I didn't recognize that Chef is my family too. A very important part of it.

But anyway, aside from the crowds in shopping complexes and some decorations around retail outlets, it's not a very spirited place right now. Some decorations on houses, but that's about it. No snow or cold chill or mistletoe or office parties. And it's not like Chef and I are tearing up the decorating spirit either. I have my IU Santa out, but we've never had a tree or many decorations. There's just no place to put them and I'm sure the kitties would tear up a tree.

So, no Christmas spirit yet. We've already planned to go to Ruth's Chris (our place of celebration) on Christmas Eve and to see a Matt Damon movie (which is a western, so really the best of both worlds for satisfying the two of us) on Christmas. Hopefully that will be enough to get us in the spirit. If not, there's always next year. . .