Might as Well Have Walked under a Ladder

Dick and Jane are in town this weekend for a little visit. Jane arrived yesterday, and we kicked off the visit rather uneventfully, with a bit of shopping and a lovely Houston’s dinner (if SV were here right now her eyes would light up and she’d be like “Now that I know Houston’s has no corkage fee I want to go there ALL the time!!!”…but, we didn’t bring a bottle, sorry dearie). Anyway.

So this morning I woke up by 8:30 so I could shower, breakfast, and get some errands run before the parents arrived chez moi at 11. I got dressed, etc. etc. and coffee, cell, purse in hand, stepped out around 9:30 thinking to myself, “Oh, it’s so lovely out today! Oh, I’m perfectly on time to get all my shit done! Oh, what a great, fantastic, perfect Santa Monica day!” Can you guess what happens now? Have you sensed lately that I have this huge massive dark cloud of bad luck that follows me around perpetually? No? So…the door slams…and yeah, for the 85th time, I realize I have locked myself out of the house…

I’m not panicking this time though. It’s so f’in ironic, it’s like my life is on repeat. And anyway it’s Friday the 13th. It in a way was almost kind of nice, like, I was getting my bad luck shit out of the way to make way for a good day. So, anyway, I first get a barrette out of my purse and break the metal into skinnier pieces. And I stick them into the lock. Because I was going to pick the lock. No, really, I was. See, I have watched them do it so many times that I figured I could do it too. But, surprisingly, I can’t. So then I first went around the back of the alley and stared around for several minutes for a ladder. B/c I was going to climb up and let myself into the sliding glass door. Part of me was like, “well, the glass door is shut and locked. But maybe I’ll just punch hole through it.” No ladder. Then I investigated the route to the balcony. B/c I was ready to scale the building and play SpideyMan. But it looked pretty much impossible.

So then I dialed everyone in Santa Monica to beg for a ride. I got Popoff. And contacted my property office. And got my keys. Oh shit! Did I mention the best part? While sitting on the steps outside my apartment, calling the property mgt office and explaining my situation, the very guy that witnessed my summer lock out happened to walk by again. He started laughing. He was like, “Umm, are you really locked out again??” I was sputtering stuff, like, “Yes! But it’s Friday the 13th! So, this basically HAD to happen! And I’m calm this time! See? No tears!! And, I have a plan this time!!” He laughed. At which point I was like, “So, I bet you think I’m really, really stupid don’t you??” He said no. I was like “well, if I were you, seeing me, I would think I was really, really dumb. But you know what? I’m not dumb! I’m actually pretty intelligent!!” He grinned, I think…he walked away.

Anyway, so by 10:30 I was back on track. And did get my shit done. Anyway, so that was a really awesome start to my day.

So…what else. We hit up the Getty Villa in Malibu. Awesome. A big collection of Roman and Greek artifacts (among the fabulous architecture). So my mom overheard a great quote – random old guy to security guy: “So, umm, where are all the ancient Chinese artifacts?” I also liked this quote from my mom. We’re standing by a case that has in it a solid gold chalice, circa ONE AD. Jane: “Wow, they just really don’t make things like they used to.” Used to being only 2005 years ago. Right.

After the Getty, and some Thai food, we went for a drive up into Malibu. On the way back Greggy suggested a drive through Topanga Canyon road, which according to my brother would spit us out onto Sunset or Calabasas or something like that since they aren’t related anyway but I let that slide. When I get on the road I note that I’ about on E. And the straight up hill drive didn’t really do so much for gas conservation. We about didn’t make it. I was pretty positive we were going to run out of gas. But we made it a 76 station. In Woodland Hills. Do you know where Woodland Hills is? Neither do I. But it was pretty shitty. All I know is that I bet when Cher went to that party in the valley where she got abducted and shit, it was probably in Woodland Hills or an adjacent area. Thanks for the scenic route, Greggy.

And the rest of the day was normal. Dinner at Brass Cap: food was excellent, service sucked. My favorite part of the meal. Dick (we were celebrating a belated birthday for him) at the end of the meal was like, “Umm, I have one request. Will you all sing happy birthday to me?” We were like, “you have to order some dessert!!” But he didn’t want any. He just insisted we sing. So we did, even though it was damn weird. And then he blew out…the candle on the table. Also weird. And very dark. But he said he made a wish. So that’s nice.

Now it’s 11 and it’s Friday night and I’m blogging and then I’m going to bed. That is just how cool I’ve become. So ta-ta, and good night. Hope your 13th didn’t yield any lock-outs. Oh, right, that only happens to me. Ok then, good night anyway.