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