California here we come

The beauty of having a sister who's in love with a guy from Anaheim is that I got to spend new years in California. Woo-hoo! Land of the Beach boys, Disneyland, Hollywood and (cus i'm a deprived marine biologist at heart) one of the nicest coasts with some of the coolest invertebrates in the world!

We got to go to Santa Monica beach and chase gulls and dance around in the sand. We had a nice bonfire and ate tons of cheez-its and basically chilled out. I swear I could do that every day for the rest of my life and not be any worse for it.

As a pre-emptive birthday present from our sister, Jo and I got to spend a day at a nice spa and then we went shopping, got pissed off sangria, redbull/vodkas and crazy shooters called "chocolate cakes" (which tasted like . . . chocolate cake) and then we came home for a nap and then we went to the Ivy restaurant in downtown L.A. (very trendy-trendy spot) and sat at the same table that John Cleese sat at a week ago!!! HOW COOL IS THAT?! JOHN CLEESE! He's like a deity in my Monty Python fanatic mind.

The spa was freaking awesome. I got a massage and a pedicure. The massage was awesome but the pedicure kind of 'meh' cus I just don't feel comfortable having someone fawn over my feet while I just like there stupidly staring at the wall. It feels wrong somehow.

I chose a nice pink nail polish for my toes and after that, I sat there in the crazy pedicure chair (it's like a dentists chair and it's got all these weird controls that lower it and angle it towards and away from the pedicure lady and then swivel me around and crazy shite. plus it's got a built in massager so it's like you get massaged the whole time you are getting your pedicure) and tried to relax.

The lady picked up my foot to do the whole filing down thing and she nearly dropped my foot and went, "OH MY GOD! YOU HAVE THE SOFTEST FEET! BABY SOFT FEET!" And then she turned around and started going on about my feet to the other pedicurist lady behind her and they started oogling over my feet and how soft they were to the entire room.
"Do you not go barefoot ever?"
"Um, I went around in thong sandals all summer so my feet should be rough." (I didn't add that i'd been stepping in cow-sh*t all summer in those same bare feet she was holding and making everyone ogle at.)
"They're crazy soft! We're gonna have to switch to a finer grain on the file! Shaniqua, get me the smaller file."

So they hunted around for some finer grain and filed my foot for like two seconds and started going on about how soft they were again and how easy it made their jobs and how much they loved my feet. Go figure. Glad I made someone's day.
And I always thought my feet were nasty. MAybe stepping in cow poop all summer does have its benefits.

I got to hang around the spa sipping fruit-soaked water and enjoying their jacuzzi with rosemary-lavendar aromatherapy towels over my head and then I lay around in the steam room feeling like a lobster.

Then I got to go for a massage.

I was fully expecting to get a female masseuse and next thing you know, this big guy comes waltzing into the room and is like "Vivian Loo?"And I was like panicking cus I was like, "AH! I need a girl! This is my first massage with a total stranger!" But anyhow, he leads me to the room and I kind of noticed something a bit off about him but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

He leaves the room and I stripped to my skivvies and I'm lying there and the guy comes in and he turns off all the lights till it's pitch black and I'm wondering how on earth he can see me and stuff. And it turns out that he's blind!
He's actually blind. And not only that but he was an ultimate fighter!
He said he was born with some condition where his vessels in his eye don't form properly and always break and he has retinal detachment. Long story short, he got beat up lots as a kid cus he was blind and so he took up ultimate fighting, but his mother told him that in his spare time, he should do something nice for the world with his strength so he became a massage therapist. He still fights and is going to Brazil for some world championship thing cus he won the American para-championship or something like that this year.

So anyhow, while we were at the spa, my sisters' boyfriends (Tim and Cute Guy aka Will) were bonding over at the bar nearby where Tim's friend (who's in some crazy rock band) was working with Tim to get poor Will pissed.

By the time we showed up to the place, Will was a disaster. Joanne had warned us that when he gets drunk, he runs around hugging people and babbling about squirrels.

She wasn't exagerrating.

We got into the bar and he comes running up to Joanne and goes, "HI DERR!! I'M DWUNK!" and then he gave her a big hug. And then he came over and gave Karen a hug, me a hug and nearly fell fell over.

And then he goes, "I think I saw a squirrel over there. A big grey one."

Karen and Tim and I almost puked we were laughing so hard cus Will is normally the quietest mildest guy around who barely says two words together. Plus, he was saying all this in a silly British accent which made it all the more funny.

And Joanne started egging him on and was all, "and what exactly did this squirrel look like?"
"He was big. And grey. And he had a . . . he had a black t-shirt on."
"um, are you sure it was a squirrel and not a person?"
"No no. I'm sure it was a squirrel. He ran over my foot," he smiled giddily, "I think I'm dwunk."

It was priceless. Then he started calling Karen "squirrel #1" and Joanne was "squirrel #3" and for some odd reason, I was "Red squirrel" and Tim was "Fat squirrel" (poor Tim).
Sigh.
Jo's got herself a keeper.

For New Years, we got to go to this crazy bar with over a hundred different beers from all over the world on tap (it's like that pub you brought me to in Ireland Salima . . . if you can remember past all that raspberry beer). AFterwards, we went to this outdoor rock concert thing featuring the likes of Violent Femmes (SO COOL!), Blondie (SO OLD!) and other bands like Soul Asylum and Dishwalla and Everclear.

I was introduced to funnel cake and other such American fatty delights and by the time of the countdown, I was so full of booze, cake and rock music that I was totally wiped. I guess it made up for the fact that Gabe wasn't there (he's in NYC right now. Even when he's on the same continent same he has to make sure he's on the polar opposite end. it's like he's avoiding me. not bitter. not bitter at all).

All in all, a wonderful time. Am inspired more than ever to become a rock star and move down to California.

Sigh.

Meanwhile, I'm off to go "palp" some cows. Ooooh yeah.

But more about my adventures here in the 'Toon later. All I can say is that Christmas was not long enough. And neither are my arms.

Peace out people and take care!