Beachy and Binging

I have some exciting news.

I am a new mom.

A godmother that is…

No, not because I eat the Bay Cities sandwich on a weekly basis (shout out to UberEATS)!

I am the godmom to a baby corgi named Glenda.



Turns out, her name is really Glinda, but it’s so godmother of me to have a nickname and call her the wrong name.


I’ll be just like Kourtney and Scott (obviously in denial of the recent events)–how they refer to their daughter as “P”, Glenda/Glinda can be “G.”

G arrived at the perfect time, as the Sunday Scaries were starting to set in.

I do this to myself.


It had been a long week of indulgence #overeating starting with the Pier Concert on Thursday.

I am convinced that every Trader Joe’s, West of the 405, has an increase in sales between the hours of 5-7pm with every 20-something stopping to buy a random assortment of snacks.


Pita chips anyone?

One can never have too many rosemary crackers, as seen below.


What is sad about this spending, is that the snacks end up half eaten due to the exodus to 41 Ocean to beat the line.

The weekend consisted of me being beachy, binging, and continuing my food consumption tour on Sunday.

I bopped to WeHo for my favorite food-truck-turned restaurant, Cousins Maine Lobster, and then made a few impulse purchases later in the day.

The Connecticut Roll

The Maine Lobster Roll

Shark week is over, and I need to chill out with my Megaladon tendencies.



Missing G,


Sunday Scaries

Yesterday, I drove back at 8:30am from the quintessential CA destination for the 4th- Orange County.

As we drove through Long Beach, I presented the idea of stopping by the Aquarium of the Pacific, so I could throw myself into the shark tank.

Sunday Scaries.


I’ve referred to these as Sui Sundays for the past six years, but realize there’s a universal term used by all millenials.

The SS was definitely heightened because of the 4th of July.


Before Sunday, there was Friday, where we made the drive down to La Jolla for what was planned as a “relaxing holiday weekend.”



After realizing we were only able to stay at our perfect Bed and Breakfast, Scripps Inn, for one night, we decided to throw it back to sophomore year and head to Newport.


As we walked into one of the suites at The Inn, I immediately looked at the bellman and said this had to be a mistake.

“So which one of you is getting married?”


Thanks to my negotiation skills which could resemble begging for a second night at The Inn, the reservationist decided to take pity on our banishment to Newport and gave us a free upgrade.

I'll take it.

I’ll take it.

Fast forward from relaxation, Pinot Grigio, and calamari, and you have Newport.

Why? WHY?!


Exactly how I felt on the 4th after La Jolla banishment.

Exactly how I felt on the 4th after La Jolla banishment.

I am not underage and do not feel the need to run like a wild armadillo on the Newport Beach sand?

Oh, but I did.

No regrets.


Currently listening to Lionel Richie, wondering why life can’t be different?

My sunday pain was alleviated by a FaceTime request from Carms and my Aunt’s new Corgi puppy- Glenda.


My feelings exactly after this weekend.

My feelings exactly after this weekend.

It’s also Shark Week.

If you need to reach me after work, i’m busy searching for discounted flights to South Africa.

Dehydrated and going to Pressed,



No, that is not a typo.

This was almost the theme of my Hawaiian party thanks to some DGAF teenagers and the San Andreas weather we’ve been having.


The party was not good timing, but I could not adjust the date after I told my friends I was recreating an Islander/Jungle Party from our college days back in early April, flights were booked within an hour.



Back to ALOA.

Because I am a fiscally responsible adult, I ordered lettered balloons from Amazon.


Instead of making it rain at Party City or being impulsive at the alluring/Pinterest worthy store Montana Balloon, I decided to be crafty, and thought I would get the balloons blown up at Vine American Party store down the street from Casa de Jones.

As we walk to car with the ‘ALOHA’ balloons, 20 minutes before the party, we realize the ‘H’ is gone.



We go back into store searching.

Still ALOA.


Teenager: The ‘H’ blew away.

Then I lost it.

I became Godzilla tearing apart the miniature balloons trying to come up with a solution.



So many vowels, so little time.

Should we spell out ‘AA’ for those reconsidering a change in their lifestyle after this event?


With the party starting at 2pm, I had no choice.

1:47pm- Me: Hello, Montana Balloon?

Insufficient funds.

But it was worth it.

The luau was a hit.





Thank you to all my friends who flew out, everyone who attended, my parents who consider me the most neurotic human on the planet and still have not disowned me, and my friends Lauren and Irina for attempting to keep me sane.


Love you all.




Viva La Quinta

The swan said it all.

La Quinta Day Club

The swan and Pitbull music blasting at 3pm set the tone of our Memorial Day trip to Palm Desert.

She thought I was serious..

I envisioned my stay in Palm Springs to be calmer, quieter, than my past desert adventures-

Coachella, Vegas, and Tucson.


I can now add La Quinta to the list.

I walked into the adult pool to find VeyGau$ music blasting, the swan, and a marg waiting for me.


Thank god I left my Kindle in the room, as it would have been a major buzz kill to the day club vibe happening.

Were we in Vegas, Mexico, Tucson?


This La Quinta life confused us, but we enjoyed all the margs they could offer.

The pool literally ran out of tequila.

Guess which one is mine?

Guess which one is mine?



Birthday Queen

Birthday Queen

After my desert fiesta, I bopped to my new favorite place of Manhattan Beach and thanks to my good friend Emily, #TheStylistLA ordered the best chicken sandwich i’ve ever had.

Future roomie

Future roomie

Thanks for the recco, but now it’s time for Hunger Games.

Luau t-minus three weeks.






It was only poetic that my safest place turned on me this morning.

As I ran out for work, I closed my closet door to find two giant pieces of wood falling towards me.


If anyone could have seen the sight of me on the ground with the closet doors… It would have been award worthy.

My safe havens have turned on me.

It started at Drybar before my friend Marissa’s 25th birthday party.


I wish I had taken a snap of my expression as the satanic stylist blew out my hair.

I would write what went down, but they gave me a fat discount #hushmoney since it was such a terrible experience.

We then began our quest to Malibu Wines.

With the dark and stormy weather, the hills of Calabasas started to resemble an episode of Game of Thrones as we twisted up and down the canyon.

Alas, we made it to the Malibu vineyard and I came to the realization I had left my ID in Brentwood.

Aw hell.

I am going to have to Uber home….

As I envisioned the “insufficent funds” email from Bank of America appearing in my inbox the next morning, Marissa’s mom swooped in and verified my age with always necessary numbered birthday balloons as key evidence that I was not underage.

Thanks to Mrs. Stahl, I was allowed entry, and enjoyed chardonnay and charcuterie for quite a while.



It was a little burr out in the ‘Bu, so half the time I looked like I was going to a Bar Mitzvah or a character from Aladdin.


This was one of four birthdays for 5/11.

Part one of my father’s birthday began earlier in the week at Musso & Frank.


Part two was celebrated on Sunday, with a margarita tutorial and an over consumption of Sweet Lady Jane.


And in between I celebrated my friend Wes’s 25th over a pitcher at Q’s.

The celebration continues….

Birthday Curse

It’s dreadful enough to turn 25, but a series of unfortunate events occurred for my friend Lauren Kohli.

Friday, May 8th – Day of birth

I receive a call at 7am.

I wasn’t planning on returning the call until I had at least 1 cup of coffee. After opening a snap that followed the call, I realized this was an emergency.

See below- I think the pictures speaks for itself.


Strike 1.

Then, the weather.

The next day we were supposed to go wine tasting in Malibu. This seemed less likely since it was a dark abyss, raining, and 60 degrees.


Strike 2


 Since Scopa and Gjelina were booked, we went to her favorite family restaurant- Hillstone.

As I slid into the booth, my friend Melissa was telling this story of how she fell when she first walked in the restaurant.

She’s little and can also be spastic, so I just assumed she was off balance with her high heels.

Everything seemed to be going fine. Perhaps the birthday curse was over…



We spoke too soon.

You can read about that experience on their Yelp page….

 It was now sunny on Saturday, burr but sunny.

Things were turning around. I go to pick up the cake at Sweet Lady Jane before the party and tell them I’m picking up for Lauren Kohli.


As I watch her go through the order forms she tells me, “we don’t have an order for Lauren Kohli.”

Aw hell.

The curse continues and I’m going to throw down my Bungalow savings for this cake.

Lauren will lose it.

After insisting she go through the order forms again, she pulls out a slip. “I have an order for Lausen Kohli.”


 No, that says Lauren Kohli. That’s an “R.”

She disagreed, but eventually gave me the cake. Aw hell, what if the cake says, “Happy Birthday Lausen?”



Luckily it didn’t, but that would have been a great top to the birthday curse.

Sunday was a disaster.

I win daughter of the year by showing up late to brunch with a bad hangover and a card that was for a completely different holiday…. Like honestly Papyrus??



Carms wasn’t really pissed at me until I started to complain about my mental state at The Grove.

To rid ourselves of the curse, Lauren and I decided to end the birthday on a high note at Milo & Olive.


After a glance at the menu, we realized not only did they remove the pasta we loved, they discontinued it.

Happy 25th Birthday Lausen.



CrossFit Cult

Since I have been eating way too much of the below, I decided to try out a new fitness class with my work.


Pappardelle pasta from Milo & Olive- life altering and becoming a bad Sunday habit.

I am still so confused by what occurred this evening.

There was the throwing of dumb bells, too many squats, and to really set me over the edge, we ran up and down the side of a street five times.


What was truly bizarre is that after the class, everyone wanted to hangout and chat.

Chat? I nearly died on the side of Pico Blvd.!

I guess this scared me into rethinking that second piece of birthday cake…


Crepe cake from Lady M on 3rd St.

This is the month, where a sleepy Saturday or Sunday does not exist. Every person I know including my parents was born in May.


Round 1- Chris Hov, and Carms.

Stay tuned,




Did you miss me?


Sorry for the delay. After feeling like I literally needed to go to the ER after my roommates birthday last weekend, I have reemerged into society.



4.19.15 Never Forget

Speaking of rebirths, this weekend was monumental with Bruce Jenner, announcing that he is transitioning into a woman.

To celebrate the debut, I held a Bruce Jenner viewing party Friday evening.



Along with the Bruce-Schetta, I made Gruyere grilled cheese and had plenty of bottles on deck in case things started get heavy.

Thank god we bought extra Sauv Blanc, since the first few minutes were an emotional whiplash with BJ crying right out of the gate.



Gruyere grilled cheese

I nearly twisted my ankle sprinting for the bottle opener.


Our vigil

The Bruce party was a success and so was this weekend with the dark and stormy Saturday that gave me a time for reflection at my new favorite place, Malibu Farm.



But since it is now 75 and sunny, I need to leave.


My new weekend tradition-Avocado toast on La Brea Bakery rosemary bread, sea salt, black pepper, and fresh squeezed lemon juice.

BRB going to the Bungalow.

See you next week,


Easter Eating

I enjoy Easter for many reasons.

Primarily because it’s acceptable to eat candy for breakfast, which is exactly what I did at 8:45am Sunday morning.



Easter flowers from the Dad

Easter flowers from the Dad

The eating began on Friday, when I took PTO for a relaxing day with Carms.

We started at Spago, and after too many tuna cones and a glass of champagne, I was out for the count.



The BEST white sangria I have ever had at Malibu Farm.



I made breakfast on a week day. This is was an event. It was also my day off…

The rest of the weekend consisted of me attempting a tan, and enjoying brunch at my Aunt and Uncle’s beautiful home in Pasadena.


With the summer approaching, let the Hunger Games begin.



Tucson Take-Over

I visit the U of A once a year for a reason…

This weekend, Tucson invaded Los Angeles.


I had a very “LA” weekend planned for my friend/fellow Wildcat Jessica, but it was hijacked when we made it to the Elite 8.


I may seem mad, but it’s because all my planned classic LA activities were bundled with the Arizona lifestyle.

Trips to Sugarfish were paired with fireball shots.

Zero to 100.

I am not going to go into details, but I will say the weekend came full circle.


We started with margs at Mercado, and ended with margs on the sand.



To continue the Tucson/Mexico theme, we decided to visit my favorite food establishment after our evening at the room.

Apparently Taco Bell closes at 2AM?

We are definitely not in Tucson any more…

The Taco Bell employee said he would make our food if we “gave him a tip.”

The cost of our late night Live Mas meal:  $40.


Without the tip…

Thank god it wasn’t on my card. For privacy purposes, I will keep this name on anonymous.

Our Uber sped out of there because we had somewhere to be.

The next morning, my nice Ikea table looked like a battlefield and the crunchwrap was the casualty.

No one ate the Taco Bell.


I was so depressed that my favorite meal had gone to waste, I tried to salvage all of the mild packets.

#desperate #despair


We bopped to the beach to reflect and went to Yogurtland for dinner.

This was me Sunday afternoon.


I am writing this on Tuesday, because you can imagine my mental state on Sunday AND Monday.

Bear Down.



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