Red carpets and the really important stuff

I'm in LA to tag along with the creator and cast of Cell: The Web Series for its ITVFest premiere. It's been accompanied by the normal internal drama--am I pretty enough? I'm not pretty enough. I could wear this--I don't have anything to wear. What am I going to talk to people about? It sounds shallow, because it is shallow. And I'm not going to lie to you guys--there's nothing like something like this to bring out the inner 14 year old. In me anyway.

My husband is working today, and he had a business dinner this evening, which means I had a lot of alone time to make myself crazy. But, at some point you have to take a break, and that meant dinner.

I found reviews for an Italian market--Bay Cities Deli--that's supposed to have the best sandwiches in town. I drew myself a map, walked over there, found a nice employee to help me order, found a fellow patron to enjoy a pleasant 'waiting for the sandwich' conversation, ordered a caprese, found a bottle of sparkling French lemonade, found some fresh cucidati (Italian date cookies), and decided to have a picnic on the beach.

I have to wear these pants for the next four days, so sitting in the sand was out, but I found a bench, enjoyed my sandwich, enjoyed my lemonade, and enjoyed the people watching. I slogged (literally--not pretty) through what felt like miles of sand to get to the Pacific Ocean. I stood on the edge and let the waves submerge my feet. It felt wonderful. I took pictures of the sunset. I wrote "I love you" in the sand and took pictures of that. I took pictures of my own feet, and the waves, and an abandoned sand castle, and a tree (I think) that looked like a penis, and a path, and a fence, and a statue and before I knew it, my whole brain had reset, and I was blissfully happy.

I had a sunset. A very simple sandwich. The opportunity to travel with my husband. Fresh cherries waiting in the room. A sweater and the cool breeze that necessitated such things. And when I am old, and the only way for you to see the me I am now is through my eyes, I. will. still. have. those. things.

And those are the only things I need.