|World's angriest cow. Just because.|
We made it out of New York without a hitch -- exactly as predicted -- a few hours before Hurricane Irene dropped some rain on the city and New Yorkers acted as though they were the first (or maybe just the most important) people to ever weather a hurricane. Whatever. By the time the rain really started that day, I'd already had two Mexican meals (if you count Del Taco for one of them, which you should, because it's awesome) in sunny LA.
There's probably no point in giving a blow-by-blow account of the week, especially since I believe vacation is meant to be time off, not packed with plans, even if they're plans for fun. That is to say we didn't do a whole lot.
Saturday was spent hanging at Brett and Emily's and accompanying them on errands as they prepared for Burning Man. After they took off on Sunday, Yvonne and I borrowed their car to drive around LA and explore neighborhoods where we might want to live in, oh, say, three months. (The strong leader in that race is Beachwood Canyon, if we could only find a little detached back house on the cheap.) Sunday night, we went to Apice's because they threw a perfect backyard barbecue to bring together all our friends.
By Monday evening, we were up in V-town for our fourth Mexican meal in three days. My dad and I were both feeling an entree at our usual joint, Colima, but it felt wrong not to have a burrito, too. So we did both (we split the burrito, not that that made it any less gross after having had like four baskets of chips).
The rest of the week was a blur of over-eating, binge-eating and eating to excess. (I had Yvonne's leftovers from Colima for lunch the next day, plus taco salad that night to bring my Mexican meal total to six.) Throw in a few visits to the grands, a little motivational speaking to a class of high school seniors (I know!!!), a day of birding at Kaweah Oaks Preserve and a hike through the big trees of Sequoia National Park, and you've got a pretty sweet seven days.
|Sweet red-tailed hawk. Pic by Mom.|