Okay, maybe now I do. But my mind has been in a jumble since arriving back in good ol' Florida at 6:05 a.m. on Tuesday morning. As expected, I already miss California, but I'm so happy to be back in the arms and paws of Ryan and Einstein.
Now...on to the nitty gritty details of the trip!
We landed at LAX around 10ish a.m. California time. We were greeted by Rose's (my sister) long time high school best friend turned forever family friend Kris, and we were taken down to Venice Beach in his new Mercedes (I'm not brand dropping here...you'll see why this is prevalent in just a few paragraphs). While I had never actually been to Venice Beach, I felt an immediate connection, as that's where Mary-Kate & Ashley lived in their classic hit Billboard Dad.
Shortly after, we stopped at a cute little brunch spot Sunny Spot. I threw back a couple mimosas as it finally started to sink in that I was in California for the first time. How cute is this place?
Kris just opened up his own music recording studio in Venice. Half the reason we planned the trip was so my sister could help him decorate the new digs with some of her artwork she sent over from the homeland. At the studio, I met a perfect poodle pooch and an older, hipster couple from Manhattan. They offered us a few vegan treats. I ate a small white cookie, and one could argue that it was pretty tasy. And then I tried an orange hunk of something (MADE WITH CHICK PEA FLOUR!!!) and it was repulsive. I didn't want to be rude, so I manned up and ate the rest. Mistake #1 in California. This is where all the fun ended.
I'm not kidding.
A few hours later, I started to feel queasy. For anyone who knows me, this isn't really out of the ordinary. I have to sit in the passenger seat almost every time I'm in a moving vehicle, I react strangely to a lot of foods (that I continue to eat anyway), etc. So when the corporate decision was made to trek to Trader Joe's for a few thaaangs, I decided to tag along, thinking that the nausea would pass.
I've never been more wrong in my entire life. And I am wrong a lot.
"You know, maybe I'll just hang out in the car," I said, holding my stomach. "I'm still not feeling great..."
"Are you sure?" asked my concerned comrades.
"Totally...um...on second thought..." Fearing what might happen next (to both me and Kris's poor new Benz), I hopped about three steps out of the car before puking all over a median. Twice. And then crying out of embarrassment and covering it up with mulch. Yes. That happened.
And then it happened in a Panera bag on the way home.
And then it happened when my sister asked me if I wanted the liquid or pill version of Pepto.
And then for three more hours in the one and only bathroom of Kris's apartment.
And that's how I spent my first night in California.
I'm really such a delight to travel with, aren't I? Forreal, though. It could have been a stomach bug, but judging from the churning I felt in my stomach any time I thought of that horrendous orange square, I'm almost positive it was food poisoning. Since then, I have sworn off any and all things vegan. Except my chocolate almond milk. That can stay.
Better California stories are to come, friends :)