We just got back from an absolutely wonderful trip to L.A. and San Diego, planned almost completely by my equally wonderful boyfriend. We saw more than I could list, but the highlights included gazing out at the Pacific Ocean, seeing Aimee Mann at the House of Blues and having a drink on the roof of the Standard hotel. (I insisted that we have Manhattans, so our allegiance to the East Coast couldn't be called into question.)
Since we were in Hollywood, we also had our share of celebrity sightings of the A-list, B-list, C-list and even D-list variety. At a Dodgers game, we spotted Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn, likely after some publicity event. At the Formosa cafe, we saw Ron Livingston, whom Jonathan knew from "Office Space" and I recognized as Burger from "Sex and the City." At the beach, I am virtually certain that I saw Gil Bellows, who played Billy on "Ally McBeal." (Why would I make that up?) And last but not least, at a saloon-type place along Sunset Blvd., we sat at a table next to -- GASP! -- Dr. Phil's son!
There was only one disappointment -- the Los Angeles Craft and Folk Art Museum. I was SO EXCITED to go, as evidenced by this picture taken before we entered.
Moments later, we were informed that 80 percent of the museum was off limits because a new installation was being, well, installed. But, the eager docent asked, wouldn't we still like to see the minute exhibition on pots? Since we'd just paid for two hours of parking, we decided to give it a go. We paid for our tickets, then went upstairs to a one-floor, mini exhibit on pottery by a lovely Californian couple. Now, I like pottery as much as the next crafty person. In fact, I showed an aptitude for pottery in high school, when I created a little creature that my teacher told me was "the squirrel of squirrels." It was my chemistry teacher, but still. Problem was, we saw the entire exhibit in about five minutes. And I would be too humiliated to leave so soon -- we'd look like philistines! We tried to instill extra meaning into the pottery, staring intently at the works, guessing how they were made, deciding which were our favorites. But you just can't stare at a bowl for as long as you can stare at, say, the Bayeux Tapestry. There aren't the same amount of intricacies, no narrative, no irony. I think the female potter would have understood -- she was quoted in the exhibit as saying, "The bottom line is, we just like to make pots."
Moving on! Here is Jonathan, looking perfectly dashing at the beach in San Diego our last night in CA.
Here I am, at the aforementioned swank rooftop bar.
And this is the view from the Getty, obscured slightly by the smog. As much of a disappointment as the craft museum was, the Getty was like a Valentine. It's one of the most beautiful museum spaces I've ever seen -- lots of gardens and fountains and little alcoves -- and the staff was unbelievably friendly and helpful. Obviously, its collection lacks the breadth of MOMA's, but it's an overall more enjoyable museum-going experience.
I'm sad to be back, but vacations are so precious precisely because they are so fleeting.