And to the one person still reading this blog, this one goes out to YOU! (Mom, if it’s you, pretend you’re someone else, in the comments…)
So, my parents just visited me in Los Angeles, and if it’s not cool to wanna hang out with your parents, then I don’t wanna be right. Or cool. Whatever. I loved hanging out with them and doing ALL THE THINGS.
Our first full day started out with a walk down Hollywood Blvd, which is in absolutely bursting this time of year, with fit-orexic workout people, the neighbor pig out for a poo, and also the most fragrant jasmine. Here is a pic of the third thing. I’ll let you imagine the other two:
We were trekking down into the tourist mess of Hollywood and Highland, bravely declining no less than 300 offers to get in a van and tour “star homes” (Or get kidnapped. Either way, sure costs more than it’s worth), to visit the Dolby Theatre. Better known as the Home of the Oscars!
I don’t care how jaded you are about the Hollywood scene — standing on that stage and looking into the fading photocopied placards of Meryl Streep and others from this year’s ceremony — you can just picture it: Tripping up and down those stairs like a champ!
Full up on all the Oscar trivia you could ever ask for (Did you know you can request those stadium seats overlooking the Oscar red carpet, on their website?! Now you do!), we cleansed our brain cells with a game at Dodgers Stadium. Dodgers vs. the…. shmermernerns….the… red team. The… hang on a sec. ROCKIES. The Rockies.
The Dodgers won, so that’s all that matters (Go Baseball!).
This picture was a couple hours before the chick behind us DID spill beer on my Mom. Fun baseball fact: My Mom has gotten beer spilled on her at 2 out of 5 professional baseball stadiums.
The next day, after a bird crapped on my Mom’s head, and phone — because she is the luckiest person in LA, and possibly the world — we visited The Getty Museum.
But not before a quick detour through Beverly Hills, to hunt for luxury cars, at a friend’s request. Accepting the mission of creating soul-crushing car-envy, we hit up Rodeo Drive. Here is the best photo of a car I’ve ever taken:
Uh-oh! Someone left a $2mil Bugatti Veyron lying around the “Pretty Woman” Hotel:
I had heard everyone and their neighbor going googly-eyed over The Getty Museum, but until you are IN it, you just can’t quite get how beautiful the architecture feels. And no, we didn’t do the marijuana before we visited.
All this, for just a $15 parking fee. The museum remains completely footloose and fancy-FREE. Thanks to the *Spa-GETTY family.
*All of this information is true. What.
There were some interesting exhibits going on, but the grounds were where it’s at.
We were all “Isn’t everything so beautiful and the art so interesting and — OMG BABY DUCKS!”
(The kid is ok too.)
That night, at the risk of killing everyone prematurely, with too much “activity”, we took the nite off at my apartment, ordered Chinese and watched “Twenty Feet From Stardom”. It’s one of my favs. My parents and boyfriend are musicians (and I played a cello and a piano back in the day), so… it resonated with each of us somewhere in that artist-feelings-inspiration place.
The next day we trekked up to Topanga Canyon, to The Inn Of The Seventh Ray, LA’s most romantic Seventh Ray in Los Angeles! And where I *might* know the best server/host/personality/friend Dan Magro. Thanks to him, we had an incredible brunch-sperience on the terrace, where the babbling creek actually had some water in it! With a glorious sweet and savory spread, The Inn is like — omgerd so good. And the mimosas and the company weren’t bad neither!
My parents don’t really drink, so this photo makes me laugh.
Afterward, we went for a casual afternoon hike up a cliff in Malibu (What. Did you think we were taking a break?!?!) to Point Dume; home to like seven thousand sea lions at the moment, and the occasional passing whale or two.
The main attraction here, quickly became the fact that Barbra Streisand’s $100mil estate was in the ‘hood, and possibly within seeing-distance. One of our party is a life-long fan. I won’t name names. Mom. It was my Mom. We drained the batteries on our phones, trying to Google Earth our way into Babs’ infinity pool.
NO LUCK. Next time, we’ll try, like, a paved road. It’s highly unlikely Barbra hikes to her backyard via the Pacific Ocean — BUT. I mean, she’s a ridiculously wealthy diva. She *has* to have a secret underwater entrance somewhere…
The next day: The pinnacle of our time together. A live taping of every parent’s favorite show IN THE WORLD: “The Big Bang Theory: Season 8 Finale!”
My parents have loved the show forever, and, having watched a bunch of episodes with them, I could easily follow along. I even cried. Shut up. But I can’t tell you anything because someone’s parents might be reading this.
It was SUCH a treat, walking onto the Warner Brother’s Studio Lot, seeing all the secret workings for a smash hit like that. And how many shows have a live audience anymore! It was amazing. We even got free pizza half way through. It was cold, but — it’s pizza – It’s delicious in all its forms.
If you watch the episode, please listen to the laugh track for the annoying girl sitting behind us, who kept laughing after everyone else stopped laughing. It should sound like a mid-20s female, weak chuckle, like you’re on a first date with her and she’s pretending to laugh at a joke she didn’t get, and she may or may not have recently had a lobotomy.
The whole thing really reminded me how much I’d love to make millions of dollars working on a successful TV show! Right?! Just being able to witness actors who have worked in the industry for a while, now enjoying the opportunity of a lifetime. The cast is just — talented and delightful.
UGH, ok, I’m a fan of the show now. FINE.
We weren’t allowed to take our phones anywhere near the studio, so here is a pic after all of it, in the car:
No. No… my greatest family treasure is my FAMILY. I don’t get to spend enough time with them, and I’m so grateful for the time that we can share.
I have, like, the best parents. I know, I know, we all do… but… let’s be real, like — the only other better parents are my sister’s.
*WINK! It’s a trick, because they’re the same parents!