Friday, I was out at happy hour at World Cafewith both my housemates, plus two other friends who are roomates with each other. I was sort of reviewing the upcoming month in social events. “OK, so tonight, we have Foster’s show at Room 5, and then tomorrow it’s Saturday so we have those three house parties in Manhattan Beach, Loz Feliz and the Valley, and then Sunday we have whale watching. And then the next weekend, there’s either camping in Death Valley or the Sasha show at the Avalon. And then it’s the All Weekend Easter Birthday Extravaganza, and then two weekends after that D and I are going to the Bay Area for some party at someone’s beach house just west of San Jose…”
(I actually do sound like that when I ramp into Full L.A. Girl Mode)
My girl roomate looked up. “Wait,” she said, “I’m in the Bay Area from the 4th to 10th. Is that the same weekend?”
Then one of the other girls added, “And I’m chaperoning my 10th graders class trip up there that weekend! I can sneak out the windows and meet up with you guys!”
“So we’re all the the Bay Area the same weekend,” I said. “Awesome. AND that’s the weekend of the Garbage concert!”
Looks like we’ll be spending the weekend en masse in another city, four or five or more of us, and finishing it off with a concert and a long drive home (I’m flying up on the Friday and my girl roomate will already be up there with her car for a ride home to L.A.)
Sometimes, the timing just works out too welll on these things. I have also been homesick lately, so a trip to the Bay Area will help. I consider San Francisco to be the southern border of the Pacific Northwest, and Seattle and Vancouver are both isotopes of the City, so it’s a lot closer to Home than Los Angeles.