October 2008

Tonight it’s my turn to host book club. No easy task on a school night at 7pm right after work. My favorite part -right before the guests arrive- lighting candles and choosing music will be rushed as I scurry home at 5:30 or 6 and jump into an apron. The cute vintage kind, it makes everything more charming, even the disasters.

Yesterday I dragged out my collection of recipes I’ve saved from magazines, to make some day. A day when I have lots of time and money to buy weird ingredients for use only once. I have the “let’s eat gourmet every night” fantasy going. It seems so do-able. But then so did the veggie lasagne I assembled last night to pop into the oven an hour before dinner. It took 3 hours of chopping and boiling to put together. Yummy butternut squash, not at all delightful to peel and chop up. Who knows if it was even worth it yet. It would have been so easy to buy something already made.

I confess, to buying premade food and saying I cooked it. I’m not saying when or what, just that I’ve done it. And yes, I’ve stashed dirty dishes in the oven when I ran out of time. It’s the idea of cooking I love, not the actual doing it. I think it’s super cool and appealing, a gal who can toss a few things together and feed people. But my specialty is really the martini party, lots of drinks and snacks. It’s hard to keep refilling the blood orange-tinis and do real food at the same time.

Wonder what happened to my ex-boyfriend, the amazing cook who lived right down the street? Kidding.

Nothing like showing a friend around Santa Monica to remind me why I live here. Because it’s damn amazing in a zillion ways is why. I get to tell her the story of how I came here on vacation to think about moving. Saw runners on the bluff in Palisades Park overlooking the beach at sunset, and decided I had to live in a place where that’s an everyday thing. It’s a gorgeous sunny day as we drive around and everything seems possible.

Next week I can tell you all the shit I hate about living here, but today let’s go with the good stuff.

Tourists are all over and I want to scream “HEY I get to live here all the time.” The incline there, that goes down to the beach and out to MALIBU. Yes. I live a mile from the beach and this is my little neighborhood. I show her the crazy Santa Monica Stairs where it’s celebs and sluts galore. It’s just another weird LA workout when you think about it, but the ocean view up top is so worth the hassle. P.S. Owen Wilson and Amber Veletta look hot even when sweaty.

I get busy and take things for granted. But this place, holy shit. How did I get so lucky to land here, find a great apartment, a career and good friends. I know compared to the movers and shakers in this city…my life may be small, but it’s all mine. I really am living exactly where I want to be. It’s the life I wanted, but just never knew about. How surprised my ex-husband would be.