Now I smell like a whorehouse

I ordered some moisturizer from Sephora the other day, and in the box when it arrived was a sample of perfume - Kenzo Amour, some floral musky thing. I thought, "Hmm, nice," and decided to try it out. The cap on the little sample tube thing was stuck, though, so I pulled hard and ended up spraying myself in the face with Kenzo Amour. Now I smell like a professional.

In other news, my friend Jen and I have decided to build a wooden sloop and name it the SS Goat's Balls. We figure we will be the darlings of the cruising world. People will buy us beer just on our charm alone - and the way we say the name of our sailboat, as if we were saying champagne cocktail or garden party. We will give hula lessons in exchange for diesel, and we will live off conch and shrimp, as our skin tans to leather and our husbands search in vain for us.

All of this, of course, will take place in the Bahamas.

That is all.

Candy cigarettes

In between working for Company A and The Mothership, I headed down south for a couple days to see Molly and meet Maggie and then cruise around the desert with my husband.

My life: awesome.

So I inflicted myself on Molly and Jon (Molly's the gorgeous blonde in the photos below), and we camped out at a friend's place in Big Sur. Most of the photos below were taken there.

From there, we road-tripped to LA, where I toured the Fashion District and met Maggie, who showed me the General Lee (no shit!) and snuck me through the Gilmore Girls set. I walked across the town green! Bitchin'.

Also bitchin': Maggie, who was sporting a fabulous pony skirt. I coveted it immediately, and if my closet was not already overwhelmed by skirts, I might just have wrestled it off her and taken it home. As it was, she made me a bottle cozy in the shape of a skirt! COOL. Also, she took me to the Warner Brothers museum, where I really really wanted to hump the model of the Pie-Maker. It's true, I wanted to get down on his leg. The pie-maker: sigh.

The museum, see, has outfits from the show on dummies that are, more or less, the right size and shape. Who knew charisma rubbed off on clothes? Between Ned and Keanu I was in hormonal overdrive. Mmm, starlet boys. Hellllo.

Sadly I do not have any pictures of the whole Glamorous LA Experience because I am lame and my phone was full of Molly smoking candy cigarettes. But C took some fantastic photos in and around Sedona, so watch for those soon.

Now, on with the show.

Morning in Big Sur. Subtext: Must... befriend... Tad! (Tad owns this place. Tad also is in his late 20s and, for a time, took to training as a ninja by spending hours "sneaking" in the woods out back of his place in, like, Beverly Hills. Tad: Clearly my soulmate.)

Molly's leg in the jammies I made for her, coupled with another killer view of the Big Sur ridge atop which we were perched.

This is Molly being Sister Immaculata, sans candy cigarette. One of the reasons I love Molly is because she is ham on rye, baby. This was what the entire trip was like: us out-goofying the other one. Molly: Totally priceless. Also? Really flirty with road construction crews.

This is me with a candy cigarette, channeling my dad circa about 1982. Note the squinty eye and the cig planted firmly in my teeth. I really nailed him and my uncle both. By the end of the day I was saying, "Well, shit" in a full-on Texas accent and railing against Commies.

Now I miss my family, though.
Miss Molly, again in Brooke (TM) Jammies. Isn't she fabulous? Is it any wonder I can't take her anywhere? Would you not deliberately stop traffic to get that girl smiling at you?

We took a tiki god along for the ride, because you never know. Here is the tiki man bumming a (candy) smoke off us. He didn't even offer to pay for gas. Rude.

Elephant seals: the highest form of life on the planet? I feel fairly certain they've reached nirvana.
Big Sur again - a color photo, even.