Los Angeles, CA: Days 3 and 4

Well, it's about damn time I got around to posting this mess. It's been almost two months since my vacation to California, and I haven't even said a word about the second leg of my trip.

The third day of our California adventure began with drousy zombie packing and breakfast at Richard Walker's Pancake House. By this point, I was really good running on just a cup of coffee and some strawberries. The crazy vendors were taking us to long, lavish meals, and I was frankly sick of eating out by this point. Death by steak dinner. Murder by menus. Sorry. I can't help myself sometimes.

After dropping off the coworkers at the airport, we picked up a rental car and headed over to Coronado Island to see the sights for a bit before making our way to the San Diego Zoo. Here's Britton hamming it up as we walk out on to the gorgeous beach.

From the beach we were able to see out into the crystal blue Pacific. Tiny volcanic-looking islands arose from the sea, barely visible in the haze. Stone jetties stuck out into the water like big balancing beams. It was scenic, in the truest sense of the word.

Coronado Island is home to the Hotel del Coronado, a National and State historic landmark. It was a frequented vacation destination for Hollywood stars in the early days of film, and was featured in the film Some Like it Hot (starring Marilyn Monroe, Tony Curtis, and Jack Lemmon. It was surprisingly reasonably priced in the off season, and inside and out, still has classic charm.

I was too busy navigating and freaking out about going to the zoo to take that many pictures. It was a childhood dream of mine to visit the San Diego Zoo, and it didn't hit me until the day after that I had actually been there. The zoo was filled to the brim with exhibits - everywhere you turn there were animals peeping lazily at their toes or scratching themselves inappropriately. Britton and I were chattering the whole time, trying to figure out what to see next, what was different about this zoo compared to Atlanta, and which animal was the most interesting.

In the entomology section, we could not resist this zany photo op. No one was around to take our picture, so we took two different pictures. You'll just have to look from one picture to another really quickly until you see both of us together or get so dizzy you pass out and hallucinate.

There were several baby animals at the zoo, but this baby hippo was ridiculously cute and its mom was ridiculously huge.

Here we are riding a moving sidewalk up to the Africa exhibits. To our left were hyenas and wild dogs running along one dog trail to another.

After a long day of animal-loving, we headed over to Mission Beach to have a few drinks with Britton's childhood friend Carlos and Carlos' girlfriend, Sara with no H.

After drinks, we cruised up "The Five" in the late evening. Unfortunately it was too dark to see the coast line as we headed towards our hotel near the airport in LA. I could just make out the lights from Disneyland as we passed through Anaheim.

The next day began with some exciting California-esque scenery, but unfortunately, I was hanging out with locals so I decided not to whip out my camera and give myself away. We met Britton's cousin Cris and a Carter family friend at his home in Hermosa Beach. The air was fresh, the beach was packed, the sun was shining. It was fantastic. People were ROLLERBLADING. I am serious, you guys.

We had brunch (my favorite meal) at La Playita. The name literally means "the beach." We ordered a pitcher of screwdrivers, but the waiter didn't give me a glass. When Cris summoned him back over, he gave me a double take, thinking I was under age. I still don't think he was entirely sure as he gingerly placed a clean glass in front of my plate.

After a leisurely, conversation-filled walk on the pier, Britton and I packed up the rental car and headed for Hollywood.

After some insane navigating (on my part) and bad traffic (Chinese New Year parade,) we made it up the long and windy road to the Griffith Observatory. Below, in the distance, are the big white Hollywood letters.

Not only does the observatory have a big ass telescope, it also has some interesting science and space-themed interactive exhibits. The foucault pendulum in the lobby was the first layman's experiment for demonstrating the rotation of the earth. Britton and I immediately thought it looked like the scary swinging compass of uncertain destiny from Lost. And look, Tesla and his wacky electrical cloud generating coil.

The best thing (IMHO) about the Griffith observatory is the sweeping views of LA. The smog seemed pretty thick (to me, anyway) so it was difficult to make out downtown. LA is in a basin geographically. All their air pollution collects and floats above the city like a snuggly, sulphuric blanket.

Honey badger don't care.

Look at that man. Isn't he unfairly handsome?

And of course, what would a space museum be without a theater named after Leonard Nimoy? The cosmic ballet goes on.

And in case you are like me, and finally watched Rebel Without a Cause just five years ago, the Griffith Observatory is where the final scene of the movie was shot.

As our journey took us deeper into the seething bowels of Hollywood, things started getting a little ugly. Honest to god, Hollywood. Kind of a shithole.

Here's the Capitol Records building. Not sure what goes on there, but Britton said it was notable. Note the cracked side walks.

And out in front of the Chinese theater. People were taking so many pictures, you could not stand anywhere without getting in somebody's way. And there were creepy artist-homeless-waifs wondering around in dingy Superman and Spongebob costumes. A very sad world-worn Mary Poppins tried to give us an uncertain smile, her mouth somehow frowning despite her best effort. I was terrified. What is this place? I whispered "Let's get the hell out of here" to Britton as we hurried back in the fading daylight, the wolves howling in my swirling imagination.

We managed to escape the head shops and lingerie stores of Hollywood, driving along Sunset Blvd. We descended upon West Hollywood and grabbed a bunch of cupcakes (after waiting in an unexpectedly long line) from Sprinkles. They sell themselves as the progenitor of haute cupcakes. Britton was worried about the impossible expectations for these sugary confections, but we both agreed they were fantastic and scarfed one down in the car.

On our way to Santa Monica, Britton swerved around and demanded we take a picture of "Nakatomi Tower." Nakotomi was a fictional corporation in the awesome action movie Die Hard, but the tower actually exists in Century City, CA. It is the official headquarters of Twentieth Century Fox. It was too dark to take a picture of the actual tower, so Britton settled on the plaza. The security guard outside was busy talking to someone as I expertly snapped a photo of the lobby before Britton swerved back out onto the street *cue screeching brakes.*

We grabbed a late dinner at the Father's Office in Santa Monica per a recommendation from my roomie during the emergency preparedness training in January. We both had a glass of microbrew and their famous burger with onions and bitter arugula.

Roly-polying our way to the car, Britton and I had a "What do you want to do? I don't know. What do you want to do?" conversations. Then, Britton, with an excited grin, proclaimed we were going back to the observatory, to see the city at night.

LA at night was glittery and bright. Streams of dotted light thrown every which way, highways pulsing orange and yellow. There were twinkles from homes all along the Hollywood hills. It was breathtaking in way that makes you consider the crushing magnitude of time and the ephemeral nature of human history. It was also pretty windy.

I fell in love with it. California, anyway. I don't think I'll ever forget my first Pacific breeze or the strange smell of hot coffee on a palm-tree lined sidewalk or my bare feet on a shell-stone jetty, peering out onto the curve of the world.

Calfornia. I'll BE BOCK.