LA Baby. (11/2018)

Sometimes when I come home from a trip I write down brief memories of it, like little snapshots of what’s happened so I don’t forget. My friend Emily and I went to LA to get away from the Christmas madness. We needed a more glamorous trip than our last trip together. All I can say is, it got wild. It was the perfect Californian dreamy trip. So here it is, my memories of two girls in the sweet hot LA sun 🌞 “Those suitcases will not fit in your car Em”. One packs nothing, the other packs everything!! Last ‘second’ in the air travel insurance. Champagne bar & cocktail bar at the airport. 2 further bottles of champagne, 3 wines, 8 cream liquors and whiskey…will America even let us in in this condition? “Ma’am if your friend wants to buy more alcohol, she’ll have to come to the back of the plane.” Dreaming by the window. Richard Branson, “you need to serve bigger portions and get rid of the Twister ice-cream”…we are two hungry girls! The plush hotel and the heavenly upgrade. Our love for Uber and its strange characters. ‘In and Out’ burgers will surely kill us. Cardboard fries should die. Pigs in the night. Roosevelt Hotel and the walk upstairs in tiny dresses and 20 inch high heels. California vibes at Banana Bungalow Hostel. Melrose Avenue and ALL the shopping. Crop tops can go to hell. Yoga bunnies can disappear. Vintage stores and comparing ourselves to LA girls. Hollywood billboard. Star pavement. “Em I’m going to be sick but look it’s Snoop Dog!!”. Our love for Hooters…their punch and big girl bums. Car spotting. “Em, you’re a boy’s dream”. Fake tanning each other. Hollywood glam. Maintenance and more maintenance. Em, (whilst rubbing some sort of potion into her hands), “Niamh, it’s constant.” Mini Mexico at Oliver’s Street. Margaritas by Glen and Dave. Rodeo Drive – they let us shop in Gucci after that many Bloody Marys….? Forever Hollywood Cemetery. The rich and the famous. Cute sleeping sounds. 2 chilled beans. Santa Monica. Everyone’s gotta SOMETHING to say in Venice Beach. The wackos of Venice Beach. Muscle Gym. White sand, palm trees and skater boys. Universal Studios. King Kong, War of the Worlds and our love for dinosaurs. This better not be a ‘line’ for a roller coaster. Pizza, corn dogs, fries and general self loathing. Bitches go wild. 50/50 chance we were ‘rupeeed’? Went out with 100 dollars came back with 9….. 50/50 chance we got robbed? No idea. American shots are too big for shorties!!! Tequila and ‘that look’ the barman gave us….The memory gap. The falls. That attempted dance move…girl who are you kidding? The call. The text. The next day…general self hatred and apologies to all involved. Next day legs. The Thanksgiving walk (so tired), our step count and 55 packets of chips. Beach pizza. Denial. “The Hood”. The longest flight home and our hatred for Richard ‘B’ continues, (“so hungry, a pasty won’t cut it Richard”). Emergency turkey sandwiches, vodka and Amarula. In our hearts and in our minds…LA forever baby.

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