72 Hours in L.A...

Goofing off at the Ritz in Marina Del Ray, hanging out at Venice Beach and doing some serious shopping at American Girl Place:

  

  

 
 
 
  

 
  

 
 
  

 
  

  

 
 
 
  

 
 
 
  

 
 
  

Me and "Dawg"

I had to cut Madison out of this picture, she was doing something extremely silly :)

My New Best Friend

As of today, I have a new best friend. I don't know her name or anything about her, but she is the greatest person on earth. And here's why: Today after chaperoning Madison's field trip to Chabot Space Center in Oakland (an educational, very fun place to go; I highly recommend it!), I high-tailed it over to the mall to pick up some "necessities" at the Cache boutique. I was wearing my usual-- a "California casual chic" outfit which basically translates to a tank top, jeans, and flops. Anyhoo, I'm rummaging around my purse to find my credit card to pay for my purchase and had already handed over my driver's license as proof of identity. The sales lady quickly sees that I'm a local Pleasanton resident and proceeds to ask me the most bizarre question: "Oh, you're prom is tomorrow night, right?" HUH? What? I didn't answer and continued to look for my card, thinking this lady must be talking to someone else. I even looked behind me to see if someone was standing there, but it was just the two of us. I didn't say a word, just kept focusing on finding that stupid card lost in somewhere in my mammouth sized purse. She then says something that briefly makes me think she is NOT blind and has taken a moment to look me over more closely: "oh, you're not in high school?" (well DUH) but then follows it with "did you graduate already?". OMG, this lady is either desperately in need of glasses or just plain crazy. She obviously didn't look beyond my name and address on my license to see that I was born in 1969. I walked out of there feeling like I was in the twilight zone until I realized that this lady was AWESOME for mistaking me for a high school student and I now want to count her among my closest of friends (though I still don't know her name). I didn't have the heart to tell her that I'm the mom of a (soon to be) teenager and that I have to dye my roots every 6 weeks to keep the grays from coming in. I figure that next time, I'll show up there shopping with Andrew and introduce him as my college sweetheart-- if I can pass for much younger, maybe Andrew can pass for much older and we'll have a good laugh about it later on.

Hangin' Out on the Boat

Lazy Summer Days...

A Boy and His Boat