Jan 9, 2011

Timing is Everything

How was your weekend?  Mine was just peachy.  I had a few celeb sightings, enjoyed a great movie with a great friend, and had a calm Sunday.  Title courtesy of the song by Garrett Hedlund.

Friday

Friday was supposed to be my "LA birthday" extravaganza, so all my friends out here and I could celebrate together, not to mention celebrate period because I was sick on my actual day.  However, I had to cancel it and move it to next week because I had a photo shoot for the agency that hired me as a stylist.  They're revamping the site so we were all supposed to get together to get some promo photos.  As it turns out, that was rescheduled, so I was itching to go out.

Taryn and I were meeting everyone at this club called Eden.  I didn't realize it was opening that night, and there is nothing that pisses me off more than waiting like a heard of cattle to get into a club.  It's obnoxious, partly because it makes you feel terrible about yourself and partly because the people they're letting in are ridiculous.  And then when you actually make it in you want to kill yourself.  (Pretty much why we usually roll to the non-Hollywood type places.)  Anyway, after waiting an HOUR to get in and watching douchelords like Doug Reindhart (aka Paris Hilton's ex-boyfriend) bypass everyone with a bunch of hoes and douche-brothers, I decided to take what dignity I had left and peace out.

We rolled over to Supper Club, which I had heard bad things about but was pretty much indifferent at this point -- just get me a stiff drink, stat.  Clubs to me are awful, terrible vessels put on this earth to glorify idiot men and stupid girls, but they can be fun with the right group of people (or with an S.O. because you can focus on them).  I prefer bars.  Karaoke ones at that.  (I wish Yucatan Taco Stand and Pete's Piano Bar in Fort Worth or IdleRich and The Loon in Dallas existed here.) Yet we do the minor waiting game again and make it in, where we grab a drank and head to the dance floor.  This place was the opposite of most LA clubs -- usually they're small, you're claustrophobic, probably getting a disease from the weirdo you're awkwardly close to, and ordering six drinks at a time because you won't get back up to the bar again.  No, this place was HUGE!  It was Vegas club caliber.  And they were working hard for it: they had showgirls dancing in the full get-up, mattresses as booths, bathrooms with more than four stalls, and aerialists dangling from the ceiling.  The DJ was awesome, it took less than five minutes to get a beverage (with only two bars!) and you had breathing room!  So while Vegas clubs make me want to throw up a little, this place was legit, mostly because I had my personal space.

Saturday

I woke up late.  On the way home, I almost ran over The Green Hornet himself, Seth Rogan, as he was jay-walking on Melrose.  That would have been an interesting story.  Once home, I cleaned, all that jazz.  Then Kristen and I had a date at The Grove!  I love The Grove, it's so romantic and fun at night.  So we caught up over dinner, she introduced me to a new restaurant (I tried cheese fondue for the first time.  Yum!) and then we saw Country Strong.

SWEET MOTHER OF GARRETT HEDLUND.  His voice, his eyes, his smile.  It was swoon city for me.  I liked the movie but I felt like some of the story line was lacking.  But Gwyneth, Garrett and Leighton all sounded fantastic!  I downloaded both soundtracks when I returned home.  And I adore Tim Mcgraw so I was just happy to see him in a movie. :)  The movie follows a country star on a tour through Texas, hitting up all my homes:  Houston (where I was born), Austin (where I grew up) and Dallas (I went to school in Fort Worth, a part of the DFW metroplex).  There was one scene where they drive into Dallas City Limits and I was so excited!  I took that road to Dallas every weekend for a year.  It made me miss Texas so much that I was nauseated.  Home is where the heart is I guess.

Sunday

Missed my alarm and didn't get to church, so I listened to Joel Osteen's podcast "Your Life is Divinely Orchestrated."  It's a must-listen!  After running a few errands, I hit up the gym hard.  By the way, I'm starting classes this week called The Bar Method.  It's apparently going to tone my body in ways I never thought possible.  I'm really excited and terrified because people who have taken it say that you'll want to kill yourself when you take it but afterwards it's sheer euphoria.  So that should be nice.  One of my goals this year is to get into the best shape I possibly can, and this should help.  I love finding new workouts and I love it even more when I can recommend them -- The Bar Method has studios all over the U.S., including Dallas, Boulder, St. Louis, NYC, Miami and more!  Plus a million California locations.  This technique helped Kelly Osbourne to get into her new shape and has celebrity clients like Drew Barrymore, Dita Von Teese and Zoey Deschanel going back for more.

I'm starting these classes this week because a got a great deal on Yelp! After the class I'm going to head to Pressed Juicery, a fav of Nicole Richie, for some healthy, wholesome juice.  I need a juicer.  Until then, I'll stock up with these guys!

Speaking of the gym and working out, can I get some back-up here, ladies?  Who else wants to spit nails when people try to draw up a conversation while you're working out?  When I'm at the gym, I am focused.  I have my headphones in for a reason -- so nobody will talk to me.  That might seem a little antisocial but seriously, back off.  Like the girl who wants to be my workout buddy, except that I don't know her.  She was sweet, but that's just asking for a disaster.  I told her I didn't know how that would work out, but mostly I declined because I don't want to have to talk to anyone.  There is this creeper old dude one guy that I has realized that I'm at the gym at certain times during the week for step class.  This past week he caught me yet again after I walked out of the class.  He's always magically there to say hi and tell me that I'm inspiring him.  I'm flattered and all, but a) what exactly am I 'inspiring' you with or to do? b) I'm starting to get suspicious.  Are you watching me from afar while I'm doing pelvic thrusts and glute exercises to Miley Cyrus music with 15 other women?  What exactly are you trying to do here?  Because let's face it, that's perverted.  Not to mention I'm on a schedule, trying to make it home to shower before Jersey Shore.  Let me sweat in peace.  Thank you.

Now I'm here, writing this and making homemade Chicken Noodle Tomato soup and about to watch The Craiglist Killer.  Let's hope dinner goes well and the movie satisfies.

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