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.


Truffle Butter

I was Beyonce Saturday morning.

Perhaps I was on a high after my Soul Cycle class, but something compelled me to sing every Beyonce song while getting ready.


I’m surprised we didn’t get complaints of a dying animal in apartment 201, because I was going after it especially when I remembered there was a Dreamgirls soundtrack.


Maybe I was in such a good mood because there was another llama run on Friday, or because it was 90 degrees and a Bungalow Saturday.

2.26.15- Never Forget

2.26.15- Never Forget

I’ll only say this-

There should be a blacklist at the Bungalow.

After entering the outside area, I actually almost tore the tent down because it created a greenhouse effect of trapping heat.

Cooling off

Cooling off

No bueno.

Especially no bueno because everyone migrated to the main room.

We bopped to Venice for some air and wine and ended up listening to Truffle Butter too many times.

Is there such thing?

Literally, LOL to the bank checkin’ my account.

Enough said.

Enough said.



Things got real weird Sunday morning when I discovered my Uber driver added me on Facebook.


Sunday wasn’t totally weird as we cheered on our friend David in the LA marathon, had a bloody mary, and met my spirit animal on San Vicente.

Soul Mate

Soul Mate


I also put on an apron and whipped up a culinary masterpiece from my good friend Ina.








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