Don't Worry Baby

01. See ya in LA man! 02. Gateway to Death Valley: Biggest thermometer 03. Cheese Puffs! 04. my view. 05. Santa Monica 06. Pier Photobooth 07. Buoy 08. Pantages 09. Wicked! 10. The Historic Mayfair 11. City Slickers 12. Angels' Caps. 13. Bats & Balls 14. Funny angle--our seats. 15. Dr. Sparks! 16. Crowd 17. Up close. 18. Fanzzz 19. Hall of Famers 20. Red 21. Huntington Beach 22. As far as we went 23. Newport Beach Temple 24. Closed for Maintenance 25. Big Top world

California. Our trip was some of the most fun we've ever had, while simultaneously being a rise to rebellion. The true kodak of our independence. The Journey. We set off on Thursday at 6 am. Thanks to Magellan, we got to downtown LA by 12 noon. I do not think I stand without Megan when I say---I was scared. Our hotel was right downtown. The neighborhood was...scary. The value of our belongings left in car parked the side of a busy street left a deal of fright and responsibility bearing on our shoulders. Our small-town eyes were also widely opened to the cost of parking. $10 a night at our own hotel. Who heard of such a thing? Well. We couldn't check in until 3, so we made our way to a random beach. When we had arrived at the hotel, it seemed as though our bad luck was no different here in the great state of California. But as Magellan guided us to our last turn toward Santa Monica Beach, we realized: Santa Monica Beach. The Golden State had put Karma on our side. We had the best of luck. Muscle Beach was highly entertaining, the weather and area were gor-geous, the pier was fantastic. We couldn't have been more pleasantly surprised. We stayed as long as it is humanly possible to stay in direct line of the infamous UV's and got stuck in Los Angeles traffic. Barely enough time to find parking at the Historic Mayfair, check in, take an itty-bitty shower, and head off to Pantages. WICKED. We walked down the Hollywood stars of Billy Joel and Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber and right into Oz. Our seats to WICKED were fantastic, and the show proved only more so. I was not disappointed in the least. We drove 15 miles to the nearest Applebee's and watched drunk Californian's close down the bar. Shopping. The next morning, we woke to an incessant drilling into the ceiling right outside our room, at which point I called the concier desk and relayed the message with...force? :) Our hotel accommodations were --- comical. We took a brief and delightful 11 am walk downtown, and left for the Beverly Center {mall...} where H&M and XXI held much in store {excuse the pun} for us. We surreptitiously bypassed Sephora, D&G and Bloomingdales and were chased out of MAC...{they were not as friendly as they frequently are at the Nordstrom counter.} After a gas station, an EZ Cheez accident and some wrong turns, we made our way--once again through hard core traffic-- to Anaheim. Anaheim. Alas! We found the land of happiness! Tears welled up in our eyes as vegetation flooded over the walls of Disneyland. If only. Our Anaheim Hotel was blissful! We could both fit in the bathroom comfortably, and we cooked up our Mac&Cheese in our very own microwave. Angels! We drove a short distance to the Angels Stadium of Anaheim, where we encountered an unexpected flounce of hyper-activity, as we of the female gender so often experience. Sitting next to Dr. Sparks, catching the grand slam on video and meeting Richard who delightfully informed of us Hooters, Logan, Utah and the fireworks show. The game was as fun as could be --- as baseball games always are. Swap Meet. We woke up on Saturday morning, made our way to my first ATM use, then drove to the Orange County Swap Meet. Not knowing exactly what to expect, it was an interesting experience, not as promising as one {I} would have hoped. I picked up a couple vintage pieces. We backtracked and had a hard time finding Newport Beach, so drove to Huntington. Huntington Beach. There were masses of people on the Saturday afternoon beach. Eating our cheese-filled lunch and listening to Waiting for a Star to Fall on the tiny speaker coming out of my phone while the sun beat down on our SPF 30-protected skin, all the world seemed right. A mere five hours later, we stopped for gas and hit the Newport Beach Temple on our way out. Home. The drive home was long, but fun; filled with traffic, Brad Paisley, the would you rather marry game and an emotionally draining {and thankfully infrequent} girl-talk. We made it home again, home again, jiggity jig. In life, as in baseball, it's the number of times you reach home safely that counts.

I'm proud of the house we built. Sweet. Because of you. Daisy. Brooks & Dumb. Double arm pump. Cheese. We don't mess around. See ya in LA man! Faithfully.

More photos here on flickr.