the ocean

I was in Los Angeles for work all week. It's always weird being anywhere solely for work, because the character of a city seldom lies in its conference rooms and airport lounges. But I actually do enjoy those aspects of LA -- walking to work in 80 degree weather in January is fine by me, and unlike at, say, O'Hare, you won't find 15 people gathered around a single charging station. And my hotel room this time was straight up amazing, as the Intercontinental gave me a free upgrade to a huge suite with a giant, comfy leather couch and windows and balconies the whole way around. That must be how social media influencers feel all the time.

Anyway, I saw very little of LA, unless you count the "upscale" food court at the Westfield Century City mall, which has like two places you can get poke but not an actual sandwich shop. I did have one free night, which I decided to spend making a series of weird unforced errors. I saw that there was one museum that had evening hours, so I took a cab there, only to find that most of the exhibits were closed, such that I saw pretty much everything in 45 minutes. Then I decided to walk back to my hotel so I could "see more of the city," but somehow took a route that exposed me only to dingy-looking Indian restaurants and sad squat office buildings. Also I got a giant blister on my foot. So yeah, next time I'm just going to one of the Vanderpump restaurants, even if that will just mean me eating goat cheese balls by myself while checking my phone and wishing Ariana were there.

So I was gone and I'm back. Pretty impressive, right?