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April 6, 2012

Yesterday was almost perfect. I rarely find myself just purely happy for the sake of being happy (too bad, I know), but yesterday was a rare gem of a day. Actually, the day before wasn’t too bad, either.  Let’s start there…

I’ve been forcing myself to at least go for a walk if I don’t have time to get some cardio in (or if I’m just in too much pain from the previous day’s dance class/running/yoga/etc), and it has been life-changing. On Tuesday I woke up early to say goodbye to a good friend who had been visiting for just 24 hours, and was feeling pretty…meh (read: hungover). So I took the dog and walked around the neighborhood. Bought some sparkling water, cheese and sweet potatoes and walked up the hill to one of my favorite little spots.

Lying in the middle of the street

Sad tree, happy flowers

I went home and made this ridiculous concoction, which I am both happy and embarrassed to say, I ate with a spoon in its entirety:

Salted Burrata with Mint and Olive Oil

Yesterday, I woke up early to get breakfast and some writing done at one of my new favorite little spots down the block…

writing at red hill

…headed off to an audition and then took an impromptu trip to Santa Monica for some sun and reading…

Decent exposure

It was there that I discovered that some cousins were just a few miles away in Malibu at that very moment. Goodbye public beach (and family of eight with two twenty-packs of Coke), hello




Given my natural energy level (8), and the average stress level caused by LA traffic (12), and the hour (5), you’d assume that my drive home was but a miserable ending to a gorgeous day (a 25, if you will), to this I say, nay. I drove through Topanga Canyon. For those of you who don’t know what that means, you obviously were not obsessed with Patricia Clarkson’s character, Aunt Sarah, onSix Feet Under and therefore you couldn’t possibly remember the episodes they spend in “the canyon” with Sarah and her quirky world of hippies and nature. Well, it delivers. It’s like driving through the Adirondacks in 25 minutes in 1968. The following aren’t my photos because it’d be foolish to try and take pictures while driving 45 miles an hour on a winding mountain road:

Topanga Canyon

I would just like to point out to any interested parties that I would very much enjoy someone buying me a house here, because I’d like to wake up in the morning to the sound of crazy wild animal neighbors instead of crazy wild human neighbors one of these days. Also, I’m obsessively researching Topanga Canyon real estate right now. Cool thanks. FYI: It is absurdly remote and far from the rest of the city, so no, I’m not moving there really. Not until I can afford a place on each coast, at least.

Sometimes serenity is found in the most obvious places, a quiet beach, a cold beer, a long drive and clean air.

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