Traveling to the Enemy Land

I have always hated California. Aside from Prop 8, they have the WORST drivers. I didn’t have to visit California to know that because they all come to Colorado!

They are just damn crazy people.

But a very dear friend moved out there and I promised I would visit. And I must say, that it’s a good thing he didn’t move to¬† Utah. Because I would NOT visit. No matter how dear. Even the crappy states get rated. And California rates above Utah. Not by much, but enough for me to visit for a couple of days.

I booked my trip at the beginning of December for the third weekend of January. Kind of short notice, but it was fine.

Now…I flew. Because it’s faster. The last time I flew, I had pretty much sworn off it for a while. I think it was the fall of 2009 or 2010, probably 2010. I spur of the moment booked a flight to Alaska because I REALLY love Alaska and have been wanting to go to school out there. I had booked just a smidge past the tourist season so flights were janky. And I mean JANE-KEE. I think it was two connections, and I would basically be traveling for twelve or so hours. Start in Denver, layover in Kansas or something, layover in Seattle. And the whole trip started off bad because my ride to the airport decided to fall asleep and I had to catch an $80 cab ride to the airport at 5 in the morning. It was more of $60 ride, but I tipped $20 because that cabbie floored it. Talk about stress. Thank the martini gods you can drink at 7 in the morning in-flight.
The flight back was worse. Coming back is always worse. You just want to get the hell home. Amazing, my ride FROM the airport was on time. I still ripped him out for the huge flub, though.

Back to California.

I flew. It’s a two and a half hour flight, I think. So not too bad. But before you can get on the flight, you have to go through TSA. Oh TSA. I was freaking out just a bit. I was reading horror stories on the internet about all the recent mess people were going through with them. Nice way to make yourself stressed out, right? I was wearing clip-in extensions constantly and had read the stories of women being publicly embarrassed because of all said beauty secrets. There was a woman that was asked to take out her extensions and plenty others that were having their hair patted down. And another story of someone being asked to take out her nipple rings because of an agent’s BLATANT STUPIDITY. Don’t even get me started on that one.

Now, I’m sure there are those out there that are all gung-ho for TSA and security and safety. Shut up. Just shut up. I, along with countless other women, are not going to sit there and spend an hour styling our hair so that we can put the world’s smallest bomb on our clip-ins. And what? Blow up the plane? No. I understand there was some lady in China or whatever that tried to hide a bomb in her hair. Whatever. One idiot. Do not make me feel like I’m a goddamn criminal. Some of this crap TSA does is just down right stupid and I will voice my opinion to them.
So naturally, I still did my hair and had prepared to verbally abuse any TSA agent that tried to make a fuss over my hair. I walked through the body scanner and beeped. Of course. I’ve never walked through even an everyday metal detector without beeping. So they had me ‘assume the position.’ Something went off on my back, chest, and head area. A very nice lady agent came up to me and started the pat down and I told her I had clip-ins. She touched my hair in a way that a mom would do to her daughter when she’s bringing it away from her face. It was almost like she was fixing it. The only comment she made was that it was probably the big metal buttons on my shirt that set it off. Nice lady. Set a good tone for my trip. MOVING ON.

I landed late and got to my hotel even later. But it was fine. I had a huge king size bed to roll around in.

Now note that this is January. But not January in Colorado, but January in California. IT WAS SO NICE!!

I wore shorts.In January. I wore a dress. In January. I think it was about 80 degrees the entire time. Oh it was beautiful. Very strange not having three layers on.

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I hit up a nearby mall and had some AMAZING food. Ohmygod. Islands Fine Burgers and Drinks…you will forever be in my heart. Typically, I HATE mixing sweet and savory. But they had these tacos with this pineapple and teriyaki salsa…my life began that very first bite. Five minutes, gone.

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And then there comes the beach. I hate the ocean. I can swim fine, that’s not the problem. There’s just so much crap in there. And things that EAT YOU. No thank you. I’m fine without those parasites, sting rays, Portuguese man-of-wars, sharks, gross seaweed…URINE. I’m good from the sidelines, thanks. So I went to the beach, but did not go in the water. I looked at it though! And it was nice. I took this one from the Manhattan Beach pier. I could see the barnacles on the pier. Grossed me out pretty bad. Barnacles just…blegh.
I took the picture in a way that would not show the water treatment plant. Also gross. Smell of sewage if the wind blew the wrong way. I guess you eventually get used to it because it mixes with the ocean smell, but still.

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Later went to the gay district with my dear friend and I am presenting to you: Hipster Realness.
We got these delicious but VERY strong drinks. One sip and I think we were both hammered. Two points to California for strong drinks. They cost enough anyways, better be something in them. And then we got these cute little burgers! Mine was some kobe beef burger with bacon. I stole his pickle. I love pickles.
Unfortunately, I can’t remember the name of the little pub we went to, but I’d know it if I saw it.

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I really wish I had gotten a few more pictures of my trip. But I was more living in the moment. Still a little shocked at the fact that I willing traveled to California.

I took one selfie. Believe it or not, I don’t like taking pictures of myself. I will probably get out of that soon. I won’t post it here. I’m not particularly fond of it. But here’s a low quality picture of a beach sunset!

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HAHA. Forgot one more thing. Saw this at the Islands restaurant and a few other places, too. California is just way to paranoid, I think. Don’t they know…everything causes cancer, nowadays.

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Oh and get this. On the way back, I didn’t set anything off going through LAX. Did the body scanner, nothing. Maybe California is a little more accustomed to beauty secrets. Brownie points, LAX. Brownie points.

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