West Coast Livin'

I'm guessing that you've been sitting around all week wondering, "Where was Julie last Friday? What was she doing?" I'm sure it's consuming every waking moment. So, to put all your questions to rest, I thought I'd fill you in on last Friday's activities.

Just because I'm thoughtful like that. And just because I want to rub in where I was.


At about this time last Friday, I was sitting on a lovely little patio drinking coffee with my mother. We were in Santa Monica, which my nomadic sister now calls home. Then, we wandered down an adorable little Main Street of shops and restaurants, window-shopping because nothing opens early in this laid-back beach town.

Shortly thereafter, surprise of all surprises, we headed to the beach. It's a mere three blocks from My Sister's apartment. And oh so wonderful.

Right before you reach the beach, there's this big paved path, with lanes for bicyclists, roller-bladers, and skaters plus the occasional pedestrian. I may be mistaken, but I'm pretty sure everyone in Santa Monica travels on that path. If they don't, they should. Why wouldn't you?


We parked our chairs in a spot near one of the lifeguard houses, a la Baywatch. (No babes, though, but perhaps I'll tell Conservative Boy I saw some Pam Anderson lookalikes in order to get him out there with me next time.)


From there, we could enjoy views of sun and sand and beautiful West Coast waves.


It was lovely. It was perfect. I decided by noon on Friday I was never going to leave.