I have just discovered that I have a strange internal need to try and fix people, organize them. I worry and worry and connect with the people who struggle...I should absolutely be concentrating more on the strong and mighty people and learning how to become one of them.

I don't just want to get by. I want to LIVE. To continuously feel like the dog in the backseat with her head out the window; tongue hanging out and enthusiastically breathing in the energy of life. I have a current of electricity running through me and it will be used for something great--this I know.

New Non New Year's Resolution: stop having the kid run things. I KNOW we are totally bigger than she is and know more stuff. I'm sure of it.

It's days like today that make me forget that there is anything of any interest, anywhere outside of LA. November 14th, 82 degrees, not a cloud in the sky. It's part of the reason LA is not a "dressy" town--partly, it's because it just doesn't feel right. It's like being at the beach--but with no sand. This is what I've been thinking about lately--the truly unique things about Los Angeles. This gilded desert town--where you can't buy happiness--but no matter who you are, everyone's allowed a piece of the luscious, saturated splendor that is the City of Angels. Ha. Angels, my ass.

Today, I understand what it means when people describe a place as "vulgar." This place is almost too much--too much beauty, colors that are too bright, and the blinding sunshine on top of it all that brings everyone out of hiding--until they learn not to come out 'till nightfall. It's the way the pollution layer settles in front of the setting Western sun, just in time to produce some of the most unique sunsets on the planet. It's the only city I've been to, so far, that successfully manages to turn bright orange into deep blue--skillfully, sultrily, with a signature all its own. Those specific colors intensely remind me of my childhood--full of unnaturally mild summer nights when the temperature of the air matched the exact temperature of one's blood, turning the air into something to touch, hold in your hands and release...if only for a few moments.

To this day, when the breeze brushes my cheek in that certain way, I stop and take it in--breathe deeply knowing that my breath, the trees, and sky are one. When there is no distinction between the air and my skin, the world is full of magic...

I'm watching An Affair To Remember for the first time. The cold clouds outside make me even warmer inside in my comfy clothes. This movie is visually beautiful, filled with warm peaches and cool blues. My thoughts drift toward memories of Europe and the Southern coasts of France and Spain with their brightly colored umbrellas reflecting off of the Mediterranean. So far on this cruise, Deborah Kerr has worn: 3 ball gowns, a very fancy daytime dress, 1 formal sun dress, a wool trench, a full length, kimono style satin bathrobe/dressing gown, various furs and a swim suit--all in warm skin tone peaches, chocolate browns or shades of iridescent blue, accented with contrast colors and polka dots. The way her chiffon sleeves tie at the sides inspired me to write this down. And that hat! Exquisite.

I always wonder what it would have been like when people dressed so formally and beautifully. Were there more hours in the day? Or simply no other options? The era of I Love Lucy--of curves and big swingy dresses cinched in with tiny belts--of Grace Kelly and Brigette Bardot--of perfectly coiffed hair that never moved and long, gracefully arched eyebrows pointing down towards chunky pearl and diamond earrings.

New outfit: a white, elbow length coat over white knit separates with a strange tulle hooded thing over her hair and wrist length white gloves with gold bracelets. Perfection!

Ok, time to watch now :)

Mandalay Bay Hotel | Las Vegas, NV | HALLOWEEN

The "Molly World Tour" continues! I really am so lucky with all of this traveling that I get to do. This month alone I've been to Palm Springs, Chicago, San Francisco and Las Vegas. In two weeks, I'm headed to New York, Miami (never been!), and Washington DC (also never been!). And all I want is more, more, more!
Anyway, since I was moving out of my place in West Hollywood on the 31st, I decided to get Halloween out of my system with a quick trip to Vegas with Melanie. We spent most of our time at the "bikini top optional" pool which was great because there were no kids running around and who doesn't like to look at topless chicks? The first night we went to Tao and practically stumbled upon the new part of the nightclub on the very top floor called Tao Beach. After the hot, crowded scene downstairs in the cavernous dance floor, it was a very welcome relief. All open air next to a pool, there was room to breathe and move around--even dance! We amused ourselves to no end taking pictures with anyone in a great costume. Our favorites were: "Dick In A Box", "Cougar Bait", "Chick Magnet", and "Hung Like a Horse." Hilarious. We were dressed as catholic schoolgirls, and we wasted no time finding all of the priests, nuns and popes to take pictures with, while at the same time lamenting that we weren't catholic school BOYS. Now THAT would have been a great pic. :)

The next night, I was a french maid (or a Swiss Miss girl depending on who you asked) and Melanie was a sailor girl. We went to Body English at the Hard Rock and saw some amazing costumes! The Terminator was probably the best I've ever seen. They don't mess around in Vegas.

The Penthouse Suite at the Mark Hopkins Intercontinental Hotel | San Fransisco, CA
Talk about the greatest fluke of the century! Somehow, our reservations got mysteriously "upgraded"--to the BEST room in the entire hotel! That's right, there are 18 habitable floors with the 19th being the famous Top of the Mark restaurant. We were room 1801-the only other room on the whole floor was 1800! So, needless to say, we brought the whole wedding party back to our place both nights and proceeded to act out funny scenes in the library and at the very presidential looking desk. The views were absolutely incredible--from the bay bridge to the Golden Gate and everything in between. Spectacular 360 degree views! My favorite was the bathroom. Jacuzzi tub (with bath salt in a crystal decanter) and a huge marble shower with two shower heads pointed at each other. And omg, the products!! Wow.

In the dining room, we soon discovered that the wood "paneling" was actually a bunch of hidden cabinets that you had to push open like speaker doors. In addition to the full kitchen and dining room, there was a living room (with library) and another wing containing the bedroom, bathroom and balcony overlooking the other 180 degrees of the city. The bed was enormous and yet managed to look small in this palatial room. I did a cartwheel, that's how big this place was.
Dual surround sound stereos were a great touch as you could move from room to room and the same song played throughout the suite.

Gino's East Pizza | Chicago, Illinois
It was a strangely weather-filled day--well, to my Los Angeles accustomed eyes, anyway--on the Gold Coast in the city of Chicago, late morning. It was my first time here--taking in this brand-new adventure of a place not unlike how the Terminator surveys the landscape--scanning, always seeking more and more sensory input. Actually, I prefer sensory overload. A flying butress over there...Louis Vuitton over there...Look, the Hancock tower! Its tall...wind, sun, rain all within 15 minutes. As I allow my brain to surrender to the newness around me, I am truly happy. (See below) ;)
My mom and I were on a search for a typically "Chicago" meal. On our way, we had to stop by Tiffany and Co. (yes, had to, poor us) :) to say hello to one of my former sorority sisters during my time at UCLA who has since moved to Chicago and works as an "engagement specialist." She lets me try on diamonds. We love her. However, such taxing things do work up an appetite so we begrudgingly extracted ourselves from the fabulousness that is Tiffany and began heading East towards Neimans.Scanning, always scanning, I see a sign hanging off the right side of Neiman Marcus. It reads, "Gino's East." I remember hearing about this place from the "general information" channel back at the hotel. Images of graffitied walls, giant pizza and sports-bar like ambiance come to mind and beckon us inside--much like department stores do after you've had 2 glasses of wine--somehow hypnotic and impossible to ignore. We walk in and I immediately point out a huge sign that says, "Guaranteed double your money back if you find a pizza that you like better." Aha! I tell my mom--see? it must be good. If not, we can keep eating pizzas all over town and make a profit.
I immediately love the place. Nothing like bar noises and football to make me feel that perfect mixture of relaxation and adrenaline that only exists in these dens of human emotional roller coasters--their moods changing rapidly as their favorite teams win or lose.
We decide that 11am is a perfectly legitimate hour to have an ice-cold beer. So we do--and order a famous deep dish, Chicago-style, melted mass of gooey cheese and pepperoni. But before we do, the bartender asks us if we wouldn't mind the 40 + minute wait time that it would take. 40 minutes? Crazy talk, you say? No. Somehow, now it was even better, more exclusive and I absolutely had to have it, dammit!
Due to wedding time constraints, my mom went to run a few errands since we had so much time.

And then the fun began.

First beer down, I started eying my mom's frothy 312 draft only one seat away. Looking around furtively, I oh-so-stealthily switched our two glasses. Then I remembered that my mom had left. Wait a second--is this Gino's master plan? Get everyone hammered on the guise of a 40 minute wait so the pizza taste's better? If so, I didn't care.

I look up over the rows of bottles above the bar, above the TV's--as if anticipating the exact moment the patrons start to wonder if this whole crazy thing was worth it, I see giant wood block letters in a giant arc with a clock in the middle--adding further insult to injury--that reads, "I'TS WORTH THE WAIT" with the old fashioned clock residing between "WORTH" and "WAIT." My slightly impaired brain seemed to say, "Yes, it IS worth the wait, of course," as if I've been hyptnotized. And of course, the clock just frustrates me because I obviously didn't look up when I ordered my pie, I only see the current time--which doesn't help in the least.

It's highly amusing--these people are fantastic, i think! And why is my glass empty? I'm thirsty--and I've got some waiting to do!

Now thoroughly happy, I continue to take in my surroundings. Tim, a salesman from Nashville who sells gases (sells gases?), like oxygen, to hospitals. He tells me stories of his wife and kids, including one about why he married his wife--it was all about the Catholic schoolgirl outfit. (When is it not, really?) And she still has it, hee hee.

Taking a break from Tim, I let my eyes travel behind me as I swivel on my stool, continuing to embark upon this great pizza waiting adventure. I once again read the sign on the wall that I noticed when I entered. But...wait....now it is different! I squint, close one eye and re-read. Yes, now it most definitely reads "Guaranteed. Double your money back if you find a pizza that WE like better." Huh?! These tricksters! I'm definitely loving this place now. They're like, in my head, man!

Finally, like a beacon in this storm, the bartender tells me that, "My pizza is up." I feel like it should come with a medal--maybe 2, one for me and one for the pizza. Just as he sets down the 3" high cast iron skillet, my mom arrives and sits down like no time has passed at all. She asks, "What did I miss?" If you only knew, Mom, if you only knew.

The slices are cut right in front of us and heaped onto our plates. I take my first bite and almost choke, the cheese is so thick and delicious. This is a knife and fork pizza, for sure, unless you want to have molten lava-like goo running down your hand, burning you. The crust is almost like corn bread. All in all, a fabulous experience. While enjoying the last few minutes of full-tummied joy, I look around and notice that the place is not only packed, but has a line going out the door and down the block. Note to self: Never go there after 11am.

The food was great--I'll definitely return.
...Trip to be continued

Bachelorette #1 | Palm Springs, CA
Wow, so the bachelorette was, well, full of penis. Never in my life have I seen so much penis--not real ones, mind you--the nasty ones in Playgirl and those awful playing cards who cater to (I assume) a strange order of gay male that plays card games while looking at guys in jean shorts with their wangs hanging out the bottom. Ewwww :)
We stayed at a great house with a pool...the guys had their own. It was also "Biker Weekend"--some sort of motorcycle festival. Harleys as far as the eye could see. Some amazing bikes.
Now its off to Chicago--a place I've never been--for yet another bachelorette and wedding. This time for my step sister. I am fascinated and enthralled by new cities--especially ones that have been as hyped up as this one. New adventures to come!! Oh yeah, and I'm a brunette. :)