Hey, everybody! I am still in Los Angeles on the most anxiety-ridden vacation ever. First my bag got lost, now my leg hurts so much I can barely walk, and yesterday my rental car was damaged. Jetta vs. armored truck: armored truck wins. And no, I was not driving the armored truck. At least the driver didn’t think I was trying to rob him. No one was injured and my insurance will cover it, but I will NEVER go back to the Santa Monica Pier again. Oh, and did I mention that I missed the Mulholland Drive exit on the 405 and drove all the way to the north side of the Valley before I figured it out?

But then, when I checked into my hotel that evening, thirsty, hungry, and stressed out, I found this waiting on my pillow and on my desk:

I nearly broke down and cried. Something small and simple like finding a nice little gift in my room at the end of a crazy-ass day did wonders to cheer me up. (Though [...]

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As a chronic sufferer of Paranoid Traveler’s Syndrome, it was almost a moment of triumph when the airline lost my bag. Finally I could say, “See? I told you something like this could happen!” It also led me to understand why everyone crowds around the boarding gate trying to be the first one on the plane. Before Friday, I thought these people were stupid. All the passengers are going to leave at the same time, so why spend more time crammed into the plane than you have to? The answer is: So you get space in the overhead bins to store your luggage.

I was one of the last ones to board my flight from Indianapolis to Minneapolis because my seat was towards the front of the plane. When I got to the door of the airplane, there was no room left in the bins, so they told me I’d have to check my bag. The flight attendant attached a tag to it and asked me what my final destination was. “I’m going to Los Angeles!” [...]

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If you read this before the end of the day, I am either airborne or waiting for my layover in Minnesota. (Hello, Minneapolis!) Either way, I’m also praying that my pilots are not drunk or using their laptops in the cockpit. I’m heading to LA for the Nutrilite Blogger Event this weekend, where I’ll learn about their products, meet some athletes, and get a free health assessment which will test my flexibility, bone density, and analyze my body fat. (Eep!) Nutrilite is a manufacturer of vitamins and dietary supplements owned by Amway. I shall report back on my trip next week, and I shall try to do so without sounding like an advertorial.

This event is also an excuse to see LA for the first time, and how could I turn down an opportunity to feel fat and ugly next to all the pretty, plastic people out there? I asked Nutrilite to delay my return ticket by two days, and they were happy to oblige. (Thanks, Lindsay!) So if you see a brunette in a rental [...]

• Continue reading "PastaQueen does Los Angeles"

I am always disappointed that Trader Joe’s does not let you actually trade for items. It seems to be a great deception in regards to their name, just like Dress Barn isn’t really housed in a Barn and Burlington Coat Factory isn’t an actual factory.

It would be rather exciting to walk into Trader Joe’s and bargain with the cashier. “I will give you this never-used souvenir coffee mug from San Francisco for two boxes of blueberry oatmeal. What do you say?” What do you think I’d have to exchange for the huge pumpkin pictured above that was in the lobby of the Ann Arbor store?

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When I am on a road trip, I want to listen to good music. The car is my not-quite-soundproof listening booth. I want to listen to my favorite, familiar songs. But how did my favorite, familiar songs become favorite and familiar? They must have been new and unknown once, before I listened to them over and over and learned the lyrics and the melody. If I listen to them too much, I find myself thinking, “Oh, that is a good song, yes, but I have listened to it too much already. I have it all figured out. Those chord changes do not surprise me. That syncopation is nothing new.” Then I must find something new.

I am always struggling to give new music a chance versus snuggling in the sonic warmth of those comfortable, well-worn, songs. I can be impatient listening to new music. I don’t know if I will like the song or the singer or the instrumentation when I play the MP3 or watch the video on YouTube. When a new song comes on [...]

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