in the haze.

clown-ballerina haunting long's drugs in Venice, CA


Los Angeles is a cesspool of scantly clad beautiful people drenched in
sunlight, but we didn't really find that out until the morning. The
evening was spent at Kat's brother's beach shack a couple blocks away
from Venice Beach. It reminded me a bit of living at the community
house in New Zealand, with seemingly dozens of people flowing in and
out the door over the course of the evening, except these people were
more blond and tanned and ate more dairy products.

After the desert and all the driving, it was a bit overwhelming. All I
wanted was some dinner and good sleep. These things were had, but much
later than I would have hoped and we all know what happens to people
when they are tired and hungry, they get grumpy. So I did my best to
keep to myself. Eventually the party atmosphere subsided and I was
able to crash... on a sofa that Giselle had once laid on for a
magazine shoot.

The next morning we had a nice little stroll around the beach area
before heading off to the north and meeting up with Fahad for lunch.
There was much catching up, pizza eating, reminiscing, and one case of
a mistaken identity ('cause, I mean, who can really tell the
difference between us?). My greatest regret on this trip is that I
didn't get a photo of us together. We are twins separated by genetics.

There was then much scenery and coastal driving. I believe that the
sunset image from a couple posts ago is actually from our trek out to
the Pacific Coast Highway.