My So Cal friend, Ashley, and I have always talked about me coming down to LA and having an “Us Weekly“ weekend in which we hit up all the celeb hot spots that we read about in our fave goss mag! Of course being the Pop Culture Junkie that I am, this is right up my alley! So to ensure that my 30th birthday is forever engrained in my memory, my husband Jeff drove me down to LA this past weekend for one last birthday hoorah!
Needless to say; Ashley didn’t disappoint as we had Friday night reservations at one of the hottest celebrity hubs in Hollywood – the Chateau Marmont!
Act like you belong
Upon arriving at the shabby historic Chateau Marmont hotel, we were immediately ushered next door to Bar Marmont. Wait – whaaaaat? Perhaps they direct the “common folk” to the Bar next door so the celebs can eat their salads in peace. One thing we realized is that the name of the game around here is: “act like you belong”. So as we drove to the Bar valet Ashley’s fiancé, Jon, said; “We have reservations at BARMAMA”! To hear him flub the name as one word trying to sound French was the absolute funniest thing on the planet! As soon as we were out of site from the valet we died laughing! This still cracks me up!
Once inside, we were in awe of the Bar. It had the coolest ambiance ever with hip hop and jazz music playing in a gothic, darkly lit room, with candles and an open skylight. The meal and martinis were superb! Before leaving the restaurant we made a quick trip to the restroom where Ashley had to politely decline an offer of drugs from a fellow restroom attendee. You know you’re in LA when…you’re offered acid in the bathroom at dinner.
We made one last attempt to see the Chateau Marmont hotel but we were once again stopped dead in our tracks by the same woman with a clipboard in hand. She spoke to us in a French slash bitch accent and told us to come back tomorrow during the day when it’s less busy. As we walked away Jeff commented that he kept tripping on his tail between his legs. Of course I felt somewhat deflated as I was reminded of how ordinarily civilian I am, as in – not famous, so PISS OFF! Jon reminded us that at least we don’t have her job. YA, she can keep her silver clipboard. (P.S. We did go back and see it the next day – and we got in!).
Next up: bar hopping in Hollywood! At this point I texted my friend who’s a producer at one of the nightly celebrity magazine/news shows and asked him to take us to the celebs! He made sure to let us down gently by telling us there was not a chance in hell that we’d see celebs on a Friday night. Of course I’m thinking; F*CK, $HIT, DAMNIIIIIIT! But whaddya gonna do?
We spent the rest of the evening bar hopping between trendy little bars with velvet ropes and bouncers in black suits deciding on our entry fate. Being that we’re in the land of pretty and prettier, I had scary visions from a scene in the movie “Knocked Up” when older sister Debbie (in her late ‘30’s) tries to get in to a club and the bouncer tells her: “It’s not cause you’re not hot, I would love to tap that ass. I would tear that ass up. I can’t let you in cause you’re old as fuck. For this club, you know, not for the earth.”
Thankfully, I heard no such thing. I mean, I’m barely 30! C’mon!
Let’s go somewhere, like, really high profile
We woke up on Saturday morning to a gorgeous 80 degree day and OH F*CK, our reservations at The Ivy in Beverly Hills were in 20 minutes! NOOOOO!! Ashley called to see if there was a later reservation, and since God loves us, there was one at 12:45! Relief! We got all gussied up for lunch and headed down to the place where we swore we’d see at least one celeb lunching on the outdoor terrace.
This place is very interesting. It’s where you get a real sense of what it would be like living in Bev Hills. First of all, any time a person gets out of a car in front of the restaurant, walks up the steps, or enters a room – EVERYONE looks up. It’s because everyone is a possible celeb. This can really play on your insecurities. It’s truly the essence of where you go to “see and be seen”. And I’ve never seen more plastic and Botox in my life. Eeks!
The Ivy was utterly adorable in its French country décor with an endless array of fresh flowers on every table or ledge in sight. The food and drinks were stellar too and my husband even commented that this was the most memorable lunch he’s ever had! If I ever go back to BH, I will definitely return to The Ivy. But next time, I better see a freaking celeb – Hmph!
We spent the rest of the afternoon shopping around at big name boutiques such as “Kitson” and doing map of the stars! We saw Jennifer Aniston’s house, the Playboy mansion, Madonna’s “block”, and the creepy home where Michael Jackson died. We ended the evening dining and bar hopping in the laid back setting of Hermosa Beach.
On Sunday, after lunch and a super cute bike ride along the Hermosa Beach board walk (where we passed the original “90210” beach house) we were on our way home. AHHHH – what a weekend!
I’m glad I got to taste a slice of LA life. I can see how one can overdo it in Hollywood. I can see how one could overspend in Beverly Hills. But hell, it’s a badass place to visit!
You should know that despite all the dramatic blogging I’ve been doing lately about exiting my twenties, I’ve been having the time of my life in the past few months! This trip to LA marked the final event in a month long celebration that started with a surprise trip to Palm Springs to see Adam Lambert in concert, and a girl’s trip to Cabo San Lucas. This is one birthday that I will never, ever, forget. And it’s all thanks to my uber thoughtful husband, Jeff.
So it’s official; I’ve hit the big 3-0. The “dirty DIRTY thirty”! And TA-DA: life has never been better!
- 30th Birthday challenge: 65 mile bike marathon
- The BEST 365 days of my life. Plus, check out my 23-week baby bump watch pic!
- Blogging during my blogging *hiatus*
- Why 2010 was my Best. Year. Ever.
- Happy b-day, America! Let’s binge drink!
- My first spring break since college
- How my 65 mile bike marathon changed my perspective
- Dear Mom: HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!
- Moms can hang in Hollywood in hot pink skinny jeans, too. Just saying…
- Diaries on BART (San Francisco’s freak show on rails)