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.)
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?