Love in the Time of Cameltoe

Actual exchange between me and the Hubs:

*It should be noted that prior to this exchange, I gave him a mistaken mohawk, made him a kick-ass dinner, and shared two bottles of Cab Sauv with him.*

Hubs: *from bathroom* Babe, can you come here?

Me: *from living room* Hang on!

Hubs: But I need your help! There's a wonky part in the back! *of the mistaken mohawk*

Me: *silence*

Hubs: BABE!

Me: Hang the FUCK ON! I'm looking at Mariah Carey's cameltoe!

Hubs: *enters living room to find me on laptop staring huge-eyed and drop-jawwed at said cameltoe*

Full thirty seconds of silence till I look up at Hubs, WHO HAS TEARS IN HIS EYES.

Hubs: You've never been more my wife. *seriously, tears in his eyes, you guys*

Me: Huh?

Hubs: I'm serious. You're just the perfect woman for me. You gave me a mohawk, made me that delicious dinner, we're drunk and you're yelling about Mariah Carey's cameltoe. You're just so my wife. I love you so much.

Me: Awww, babe. But, seriously, DID YOU SEE THIS CAMELTOE SHIT?

And that's true love, folks.

PS But seriously, did you see this cameltoe shit? Mariah, girl, that looks downright PAINFUL! 

PPS Mariah Carey's stylist should totally be fired. 

PPPS So should Mariah Carey's vagina.

Lady B's in Love

 It finally sunk in the other night. The first couple of weeks were a SERIOUS adjustment, but it really and truly hit me this weekend, standing in front of the Kibitz Room at Canter's Deli as a light rain drizzled down on The Hubs and I, making the Hollywood lights glow a welcoming orange in the night sky. Hit me like a ton of happy, fluffy, warm and fuzzy rainbows and unicorns. And maybe a little Jack Daniels.

My new home is RAD.

Seriously, you guys? I wasn't sure if I'd get used to living over the hill. I know it sounds dramatic but this was a GINORMOUS change for Lady B. I left my safe Valley bubble for the frenetic, crazy energy that is Hollywood. And I downsized from a sprawling house to an apartment. I have to admit that the first week left me feeling overwhelmed, exhausted, out of place and scared to come out from under my covers. And then a list of awesomeness started to write itself:

• I have not moved my car in over two weeks, yet I've gone out multiple times every single day. 
• I've lost ten pounds from all the walking, jogging and exploring I've done in my new 'hood.
• The Hubs and I now unwind by sitting in our rooftop jacuzzi, looking out over the entire damn city.
• That's the same rooftop my bestie and I gossiped, ate stupid-delicious Crumbs Bake Shop cupcakes, and were treated to a surprise fireworks show from Dodger Stadium last Friday night.
• We live across the street from the historic El Royale, former home of Clark Gable and other legends. I'm obsessed with its Art Deco architecture and it's green neon sign shines down into our pool in the sexiest film noir kinda way.

•  Speaking of which, I feel the need to speak like a 40's dame living here. "That's the way it's gonna be, see." "Come 'ere, kid, and let Mama make a man outta ya." Know what I mean? Very Mae West.
• Oh yeah. I also look out over the historic Ravenswood Apartments, where Mae West lived for close to 50 years.
• The Farmer's Market is ridiculous and fantastic. There is a GOURMET SALT GUY, people! Fancy salt!!! Y'all know how much I love me some fancy-pants salt! 
• I have a GAS OVEN AND STOVE again! We're cooking with gas, folks! Oh fire, how I missed you.
• The Village Pizzeria is now our second home. A delicious, warm, cheesy home.
• Everything we own really does fit into this apartment! No need for a storage space as we'd feared! Boo to the YAH!
• There's a book store! A real, honest-to-goodness, not-a-giant-chain book store!!!!
• Our neighbors are NEIGHBORLY! Was totally not expecting that.
• The amount of eye candy in Larchmont Village is bananas. Sexy, scruffy dads getting ice cream with the kids your kinda thing? Tight spandex-clad butts walking to yoga? Down to earth, yet painfully gorgeous celebs? Salt-n-pepper Clooney types? Get. Down. Here. Now.

I could go on for days but I don't want hit the world record for exclamation points in a single blog post.You get it though, right?

THIS PLACE IS HOME! AND HOME IS FREAKING AMAZE-BALLS!!!!!!!

I'm, Like, Totally Gonna Miss The Valley

Why has the idea of leaving The Valley shaken me to my very core? Why is moving a measly 12 miles making me feel like I'm moving away?

I'm a Valley girl, through and through. Except for that awful 6-month stint in Arizona, I've lived here my entire life. It's all I know. And I love it. And I'm going to miss the holy shit out of it.

Don't get me wrong, I'm stoked for our new adventure over the hill. I can't wait to explore our new 'hood. The Hubs and I have always wanted to live exactly where our new place is and I keep pinching myself to make sure our dream is really coming true. But there's something absolutely terrifying about your dreams coming true. What if your dream was wrong? What if once you have it, you discover that you don't really want it after all? What if it just plain sucks?

Then again, what if it doesn't?

Still. I'm gonna miss the good ol' SFV. The 818. My stomping grounds. The smell of night jasmine in the air. Jogging along the Balboa path. October at the Tapia Bros. pumpkin patch. A frozen lemonade at The Sherman Oaks Street Fair. A movie at The Galleria. A Twain's pancake and a Dupar's pie. Orange and purple sunsets over the 101. A memory tied to each and every corner. My roots.

I've got 37 days left (Crap, it's still that far away? Is this not the longest waiting game ever?) as a San Fernando Valley resident. As a true Valley girl. And I'm going to make the most of it. I know I'll be back. It's only twelve freaking miles. My family and friends are still here. But there's something so bittersweet about leaving and I feel the need to respect that. So I'm going to spend the next five weeks indulging in some of my all-time Valley favorite pastimes. Want to join me?

Spring time at Lake Balboa

A Bob's Big Boy combo in Burbank

People watching over coffee at La Reina on Ventura Blvd.

Pool and darts with the gang at the Sweep.

Wholesome goodness at the Studio City Farmer's Market

Oh Valley, you're so pretty.