The writz
My So Called NoCal/SoCal Life has been a boozy whirlwind since I arrived in L.A. Tuesday.
(And it has been sans computer, hence no blogging, baby. I'm at the Silverlake Palace using Corina's Mac right now and have already effed up twice by closing the window by mistake. I think Steve Jobs put the close window button there just eff with the PC users. And how exactly is one supposed to right click?)
Anyway, last night was super glam at the swank hotel poolside cabana birthday party. I can drink Champagne.
My sashay in the teeteringly high strappy Dolce-G's actually improves when I drink lot's of Tattinger.
The after party got off to a good start when we discovered the manager had sent up 2 bottles of Veuve to the suite. Uh, huh, membership has it's privileges. Tonight's agenda? Might as well keep a good thing going.
(And it has been sans computer, hence no blogging, baby. I'm at the Silverlake Palace using Corina's Mac right now and have already effed up twice by closing the window by mistake. I think Steve Jobs put the close window button there just eff with the PC users. And how exactly is one supposed to right click?)
Anyway, last night was super glam at the swank hotel poolside cabana birthday party. I can drink Champagne.
My sashay in the teeteringly high strappy Dolce-G's actually improves when I drink lot's of Tattinger.
The after party got off to a good start when we discovered the manager had sent up 2 bottles of Veuve to the suite. Uh, huh, membership has it's privileges. Tonight's agenda? Might as well keep a good thing going.