I know some people, when celebrating their birthday with a trip, will go for a vigorous hike in the Cascades, or trek to Bhuthan to meditate with the monks. Last week for my birthday (and sincere thanks to everybody who wished me a happy one, and all the rest of you miscreants also,) I went down to Los Angeles for a manicure.
It was well and truly the greatest manicure I’ve ever had. The salon Secret Agent Fred and I went to had the severe white hush of a chic research lab and we each had a room all to ourselves so the technician could truly concentrate on our cuticles.
Also, tiny little fur brushes to whisk away the detritus from the emory board. Dazzling.
Also quite charming was the always beautiful LA weather and lots of cute guys.
We were staying in a small hotel I quite like and which pretends to have a bar. You sit down at a table, a server appears eventually, takes your order and then disappears. One supposes they’re mixing drinks back in the laundry room. I ordered a Lemon Drop because I am a Lady, I do Lady Things and it was served as a martini glass filled with Citron vodka. That was it, no mixer, nothing, just liquor. Turned out to go with my vicodin perfectly well.
|And really great Mexican food, my favorite cuisine. Why San Francisco is so lacking in it is a constant source of pain to me.|
|My favorite coffee place in the universe is a small San Francisco chain called Peet’s. I was so glad to find one near our hotel and even more delighted to see they have valet parking. It’s L.A. baby.|
Thanks again to everyone for your birthday wishes, all of which came true. It was a plenty Happy one.