mutiny at the bounty in the form of vodka and soda

I was woken up this morning by the shrill of my cell phone. I started up to get it, and realized that I was using my bathrobe for a blanket, with a sheet on top of that, to ward off the recent nighttime temperature drops. I must have come in, kicked off my shoes, stripped off my Miss Sixty jeans and Arden B top, and fallen into the pile of clean laundry on my bed.

The caller was one of the girls who I was out with last night. “Oh my God, did I wake you?” she exclaimed.
“No, no, I should be up,” I said, while trying to pry off the Le Chateau beaded choker I apparently couldn’t get off when I arrived home at 3am. “If we’re going to have beach time, I need to get down there. I want to check out pickup Ultimate at 3:30.”
“Oh, good,” she replied. “How’s your head?”

Now that she mentioned it, my head was bad. I’d been drinking red wine all night, and I switched to vodka and sodas when we went to the Gaylord Hotel bar, the HMS Bounty, on a field trip back to the fifties towards the end of the evening. I wanted scenes from film noir movies to be happening in the dark corners, I wanted intrigue served instead of pretzels.

“Are we still doing the beach today then?” she asked. “I tried calling the other girls, but there’s no answer”
“Of course! They’re probably still asleep. We were at that party pretty late.”

The party last night was fantastic, just a gathering of people on the roof of a classic Los Angeles apartment building not far from downtown. It seemed to be one of the few buildings from the 20s not done in Spanish style, with an atrium that went up through all five stories, and walkways on either side, and an old gated elevator. The rooftop was amazing because it was balanced between the 70s skyscrapers on one side, and the old, 1920s-through-40s buildings on the other. The old Hotel Normandie was across the street, on Wilshire, and the Gaylord was a few blocks down, and those used to be some of the more wealthy hotels of Los Angeles.

The crowd were also fascinating: everyone had unique, brilliant careers. I talked to a PEI expatriate who’s here to work for NASA, and the host was a world traveller -slash- photographer. There were artists and musicians and writers. Very Los Angeles, big city jobs – but different than the very L.A. jobs I run into at most parties. I also met the author of Vagabonding, and talked to him for an extended period of time, because that’s a philosophy and modus operandi that fits right in with my own philosophy of nomadism.

Actually, “met” isn’t quite the term. I think I do remember kissing him at some point. For an author, he was cute. We’d already invited him to Camp Lollapalooza anyways – a true vagabond should really appreciate the nomadic aspects of camping – although this one cheerfully agrees with me that Camp Lollapalooza is really car camping and tent drinking.

Now I’m off to fix the headache – I’m out of drinking water, and have been drinking LA city tap water, which is probably making things worse. Drinking water and breakfast and I should be fine – but really, I have to get in gear. I have to get to the beach. I think my tan is fading slightly.

6 responses to “mutiny at the bounty in the form of vodka and soda

  1. ugh yes tap water… it’s worse in some places than others – I remember when I was still out in Saskatchewan and I was feeling ill so I drank 4.5 Litres of water and whoa… bad idea… I mean 4.5 litres of anything is usually not the greatest for ya, but our water was so highly chemical that it was insane I lived by 3 power plants… ugh… so sick 😦

  2. how was your yom kipure?

  3. Due to lack of shul, this was the first year I haven’t observed it since 1998. I planned to go to services at a Reform synagogue here in Venice, but they actually had the men & women separated when i went to Erev Rosh Hashanah services, and while that may be traditional, it also very much puts me off and I didn’t feel like going back. And I wasn’t invited to go anywhere else, and all the other synagogues required tickets in advance so this year I pretended to be a Gentile.

  4. CAUTION: Facetiousness ahead!

    I have to get to the beach. I think my tan is fading slightly.

    Like, Ohmigawd!! You can SO not let that happen! Girl, get your ass to the BEACH!

    Actually, “met” isn’t quite the term. I think I do remember kissing him at some point.

    Ohmigawd, that is SO L.A. But an author? Girl, you know better: famous screenwriters only!!

  5. HAHAHAHAHA. You know I write those things to make fun of myself for degrading into Bad Stereotype, right? 😉 If I’m going to live in L.A., I’m going to live in Los Angeles, dammit!!

  6. Jill to L.A.: I can have my soul back when I leave, right?
    L.A.: Too late! It was delicious! Muhahaha! *burp*
    Jill: Oh no!… Hey, cute shirtless guy on rollerblades!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s