Dear Liz and Rob,
Thank you for being such wonderful hosts in LA! I love your place, I love your dog, I love your neighborhood, I even love your Starbucks and your Crunch gym. I love your friends, and your grill, and your balcony, and your tortilla chips. I love your taste in music, your shopping savoir faire, your choice of restaurant, and the fact that you bring a flask out with you for the night. Oops, was I not supposed to share that?
I arrived on a Thursday--you remember that day, right? It was the day the cab driver took me to his house instead of your house? Somehow he got confused and thought you lived in his neighborhood. You don’t. When I told him he wasn’t on the right street, he seemed upset. I asked him to turn the meter off and take me to your house. He said, “I’m really glad you’re not getting nervous right now.” Then he asked me if he could smoke.
I sat at your dining room table that day for many hours and got tons of work done. Then you came home and we opened a bottle of champagne. You took me to a sushi place and told the waiter to bring us whatever he wanted. I’m pretty sure I passed out shortly after, but at least we made it home.
Liz, Friday you stayed home and “worked.” If this was a thank you note that mom was reading, I would explain that what really happened was that you stayed in bed for many, many hours, and even me steamrolling you repeatedly had little effect. Eventually you got up and we went shopping, and I once again admired your total domination in the clothing realm. I had so many clothes (all picked out by you) at the end of that trip that I wasn’t sure I would be able to fit them into my suitcase. To make ourselves feel even more productive, we got our nails done.
Friday night we went to a Mexican restaurant, where we drank margaritas and ate sweet corn tamales. The waitress complimented my dress (picked out by you, Liz.) We went to The Largo to see Jon Brion and when he did a bizarre robot version of Suffragette City, I fell a little bit in love with him. I also loved the guy who was sitting behind us yelling out song requests, like “Just the Two of Us” and “Smooth Criminal.” I have a lot of love, you may have noticed. Rob arrived from New York that night to meet us, and Liz, you suggested that we call them something besides “Rob” and “Rob”. Because it’s confusing, and they don’t know who we’re talking to. I said, “Like Rob and Robert?” And you said, “No, like Rob and Stan.” We listened to Radiohead and Ryan Adams, and drank more wine at your apartment.
Saturday was Stan’s birthday. You got him the most beautiful desk, complete with ink jar, chalkboard, and a little bench. His reaction was one of the best things I’ve ever seen. He was blown away. We went out to breakfast and did more shopping. That night, you had people over for the birthday, and we went out to a big family-style Italian dinner in a garden, with an outdoor fireplace. We ate meatballs and calamari and drank bottles of wine. On our way to a bar afterward, you realized you had forgotten your ID. You had to use mine. It was just like old times, and it’s a really good thing I have been too lazy to get a New York driver’s license and still have my California one. I think that helped when you gave the guy my license immediately after I had given it to him--less noticeable. I'm glad I can still hook you up.
At the bar, we danced. At one point, I yelled to your friend Daniel. "Daniel!" I yelled. "Get up here and dance!" "Why are you being like Liz and telling me what to do?" he asked.
The next day, our flight was cancelled and I felt like I was a kid who had just been told that school was closed because of snow. Except this time school was closed because of excessive sunlight and sand and seafood, which we enjoyed that afternoon. No joke, the four of us sang California Dreamin' on the beach after we had buried Liz in the sand in all of her clothes. And we sang it without irony. I really want to thank you both for also being excited when our flight got cancelled. And for your great harmony.
Eventually, we really did have to leave, and even then I wasn't ready. It was just too much fun. So thank you, thank you, thank you. I can't wait until next time.
Sarah (and Rob)
Happy Birthday, Joe!
Jack is TWO!
3 years ago