The second one was next to the Botox on the Beach studio. Tell me, would you get Botox on the beach? How about Botox in the sterile, environmentally controlled doctor’s office?

On my way towards these storefronts, I overheard two people talking about the cost of someone’s nose job. That was when I knew I was in Los Angeles

I visited the Central Perk set from “Friends” on the WB Studio Tour. The service was really slow though. I’m still waiting for my latte.

I sampled the pumpkin ice cream at the Farmer’s Market and, DAMN, I wish this flavor was sold in stores. It was dee-lish!

Update 11-19-09: Okay, y’all, I have been informed over and over again that pumpkin ice cream is available in stores, and even if it wasn’t, you can make it yourself. Thank you for sharing.

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 I was cheered up even more by the guy at the Visa customer service center who told me they’d cover any damages my insurance wouldn’t.)

Other than all that hoopla, LA seems to be a rather cool city. I’m going to drive around and tour different neighborhoods today. I would love to get out and walk, but my leg will have nothing of it, so I’m going to stay in my car like all the real Angelinos do!

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 sedan driving erratically down Mulholland Drive this Sunday, it might be me! I have carefully studied my guidebooks, so I know where Compton is and I will try to avoid it since I’ve heard it mentioned in far too many gangster rap songs. I looked into getting tickets to The Price is Right, because I thought it would make a great blog entry if I appeared on the show and won a hot tub. Upon further research, I discovered that getting in involved waiting around a parking lot for at least six hours, so I nixed that idea. I don’t really want a hot tub anyway, though that would have been an awesome entry, wouldn’t it?

I couldn’t help but hum Let’s Go Fly a Kite as my brother was running around Kill Devil Hills trying to launch my mother’s rainbow flying machine, complete with streamers. This new theme song was somewhat welcome on our North Carolina vacation last week, because after we’d eaten sandwiches at a place called The Yellow Submarine I’d had that Beatles song stuck in my head. The wind wasn’t that strong, but we were able to make the kite fly for several minutes at a time. Then we hiked up the rest of the BFH (Big F**king Hill), which I thought they were going to have to rename “Kill PastaQueen Hills,” to see the Wright Brothers memorial.

That’s me, hanging out with Orville, while some kid tries to break into the monument in the background. Kill Devil Hills is right next to Kittyhawk where the Wright Brothers discovered motorized flight. Did you know they owned a bike shop? I wonder if they could adjust my brakes for me.

After we got back to Durham, we went to a baseball game featuring the Durham Bulls. There was a billboard with a bull in left field, which was cute enough on its own, but when someone scored a home run its eyes lit up as an angry red, smoke came out of its nose, and its tail wagged. It was way more awesome than the baseball game!

Red was hanging out in Kiddie Lit trying to get a catnap when I paparazzied him. I strolled further down the seemingly endless, narrow hallway that comprises the Bookshop, wondering if I’d entered a TARDIS. At the very back, in North Carolina books, I found Elmo.

Elmo gave me a look that seemed to say, “Fine, take my picture and then beat it.” The kitties had beds and scratching posts in the bookshop window with a sign that asked patrons to please not knock on the glass. While we were there, someone entered with their dog who was not on a leash. They were promptly told to beat it before a cat vs. dog battle could ensue.

I wish the book stores in Indianapolis had cats. For now, I have to settle for the independent pharmacy on the north side that has a parrot.

Normally when I take a vacation, I take a vacation from exercising too. I know I’m not supposed to, but eh, I’m on vacation and I’ll do what I want. However, I’m gasping through running the IrishFest 5K on Saturday morning, so taking a week off before the race would be a very bad idea unless I owned an Irish wolfhound to carry me across the finish line. (I don’t.)

I’m visiting my brother and his wife, and their house is near a trail that was built on an old railroad line, much like the Happy Fun & Fitness Trail near my old apartment is. This trail is amazingly similar to my Happy Fun & Fitness Trail, except for the little things that make it seem like a cloning project that went slightly awry. This trail has more curves and moves up and down on the z-axis creating something I’ve heard are called “slopes.” Us Indiana folk are not familiar with these “hill” things. Thus the huffing and puffing increased cardio workout. I nearly stumbled over a turtle on the side of this trail, which I’ve never seen on the trail in Indiana. Also, the people here seem to be friendlier than Hoosiers. I got Hello-ed at least three times during my 25-minutes on the path by a mom with a stroller, a white-haired walking man, and a twenty-something with a UNC t-shirt. Must be that Southern hospitality.

I am at the beach! That is why I posted that depressing entry yesterday, which I actually wrote two weeks ago while pinned to the couch by the gravity of massive depression. I feel much better now, but on Monday morning I needed to post something, and that was all that was in my queue, so Bummed Out Monday it was!

I am in Nag’s Head, North Carolina, checking out my pier.

You can tell it’s my pier because not only is my name on it, but it’s spelled right. I made sure the sign-painting people didn’t misspell it. However, Hurricane Isabel did a number on my pier a few years ago (more like Hurricane Is-a-Bitch), so I hired some contractors to fix her up.

It will be 2011 or so before I can invite y’all over, but keep your calendars clear for when we open up again! And remember, you read it on the Internet, so it must be true!

“London or Paris (choose one). Which city did you like better? Why” – Mary Jo

Hmmm, this is like asking me which piano-based musician I like better: Ben Folds or Tori Amos. One is a flame-haired, kooky, piano goddess and the other is a charismatic, geek, rocker. I like them both for very different reasons.

I like that they speak English in London, or at least some variation of English. Despite the fact that there are no trash cans downtown, London seemed cleaner than Paris. I found the London tube to be easier to navigate and prettier than the Paris Metro, which was grimier and not as well labeled. I also disliked the little rectangular paper tickets you have to use in Paris, which littered the ground at many stations.

However, London was much more expensive than Paris. By the time I was ordering my first lunch in French, I was relieved by the much lower prices. The French food was better, allowing me to sample tarts, chocolate bread, crepes and other naughty carbohydrates. Paris was also home to the delicious Kit Kat McFlurry, but I never went into a British McDonalds, so it’s possible they have it too. London was home to the most amazing food halls and I probably left some drool on the glass cases there. I fell in love with Parisian coffee. They serve it on a saucer with two cure sugar cubes which I delighted to stir into my coffee. When I took my last sip, it was extra sweet, flavored with the remainder crystals. I also liked the French attitude that you should sit and enjoy a meal. I only found the lack of to-go coffee annoying because I was trying to do a lot, but I think if I lived there I would like the slower pace.

Both cities are beautiful. Big Ben and Westminster Abbey are shiny and beautiful and I wanted to scoop them up to put in my pocket. Paris has quaint, winding streets with narrow sidewalks everywhere, making it very walkable. Standing at the top of the Arc de Triomphe you can see the streets spiral out, which made me appreciate how well planned Paris is. I also love how the city is painted in a consistent white, pastel color. You can walk along the river in both cities, and both have many lovely public parks to people watch in. Both cities have lots of museums, which are free in London but not Paris.

When I departed from Paris, I felt like I’d left more undone than I had in London. I suppose if I had to pick a favorite, I’d go with Paris, but I would probably enjoy it more if I spoke French. A bientot!

I first experienced I’ve Been There! Disorder after a trip to New York after my college graduation. When I watched David Letterman on TV afterward, I’d clap my hands when I saw the theatre front or the Hello, Deli, thinking, “I’ve been there!” Since I went to Washington, DC a few months ago, whenever I see video of the White House I know what lawn they are on or what side of the building they’re facing. It is astounding that these cities are real places that you can actually visit and not just magical fantasy islands existing in the slipstream of television.

Hopefully, I’ve Been There! Disorder will lessen as time passes, because it is probably annoying for my family and friends that I keep shouting, “I’ve been there!” during newscasts and commercials. Before, I never realized how frequently images of these places appear in our culture, but now that I’m tuned into recognizing them, I notice that they’re everywhere. Perhaps this is part of what they mean when they say travel makes you more “worldly.”