Best Job In The World

YOU GUYS.

Have you heard of the Best Job In The World contest hosted by Tourism Australia?

I hadn't until a couple months ago.  I heard about it from a girl at the Arboretum who was shooting a video.  I asked her what it was for, and she said it was to apply for the Lifestyle Photographer position as part of the Best Job In The World contest.

After that conversation, Brian was all, "you should apply too!" and I was like "who, me?"...and then we batted the idea around for a while, like "OMG can you imagine?" -- entirely hypothetically speaking, of course.

But the seed had been planted.

So a couple of weeks later, I made a video.  30 seconds long (that's all they allow), and just a simple video in the park by our apartment.  I didn't want to spend too much time/effort on it because, I mean, let's be real.  People like me don't win crazy contests.  And who knows if anyone was even going to watch this video.  It was probably going to be emailed off into a black hole in the interwebs never to be spoken of again.  But the opportunity was cool enough and it was easy enough to apply that I thought, why not take an hour of my time to do it.

So I did.  I uploaded the video and (mostly) forgot about it.

And then today, I got an email saying I was "shortlisted" -- I was chosen as ONE OF THE TOP 25 FINALISTS out of 600,000 applicants!!!!!!!

ME!  Shortlisted!

I am a) completely shocked; and b) 100% psyched!  Here's my video if you want to check it out -- but really, you should go here and check out the other 24 videos because those people are like whoa talented.  I can't believe I'm even on the same list as them!  Ahh!

No matter what the outcome is, today is such a welcome reminder to me that if you see something you want, JUST GO FOR IT, even if it seems against all odds.  There are so many opportunities in the world that could be yours for the taking if you just reach out and grab them.

What an unexpected and wonderful surprise!

We Came. We Raved. We Loved.

Let it be known that last Friday, Brian and I went to a rave.

And we liked it.

I remember this one incredible moment when Swedish House Mafia was playing Don't You Worry Child and we were spinning and jumping and laughing and swinging each other around and a space cleared for us to dance and I was so happy.  It's one of those scenes, a snapshot of life, that stands still -- the kind you know you'll remember again, and when you do, it'll make your heart smile.

When it was all over, we trekked back through the endless mud and walked approximately another 8 billion miles to Union Station to take the train home.  Which I was ok with only because 1) I was in a state of post-concert euphoria; 2) I drank my last drink really really fast; and 3) Union Station is pretty.

My feet/legs were sooo gross and muddy.  I have never been so thankful for ugly cheap-o tennis shoes.

 And that is the story of The Time We Went To A Rave.

I'm bookmarking this one for [totally speculative] future child's reference to prove WE WERE COOL ONCE I SWEAR.

Best Night Ever

No, really.

Last night was the Best. Night. Ever.

It started with a cocktail party under Endeavour.  Pretty sweet.

We got our free passed aps, a pic with the space shuttle itself, and I was ready to head out.

BUT THEN.

Out of nowhere, we scored some amAzing tickets to a pre-Grammy's concert and of course we were like um HECK YEAH WE'LL HIT UP THAT AMAZING CONCERT IN OUR WORK CLOTHES.  DUH.

Right place, right time.  Wrong clothes.  But to Hollywood we went, dressed like corporate suckers.

We pulled into a parking lot on Hollywood and Vine, and in the process, cut off the host of the concert, will.i.am.  In his Escalade.  Because we're shitty LA drivers.

And then once we were inside, we just kept flashing our wristbands, and they kept opening the red ropes for us, and I just kept laughing like whatttttt is going on???  And then we saw the most amazing performances ever.

Like Estelle.

And Black Eyed Peas.

And Alicia.  Ohmygoodness Alicia!

I just kept looking around, wondering if anyone else could possibly understand the state of shock I was in.  This was certainly not how I thought I'd be spending my Thursday night.

And so I took a video (what? yeah.).

I'm counting this as my birthday celebration :)


P.S. M.C. Hammer was there!  We're basically old friends by now.

Pop-Up Par-tay!

What could be better than dining al fresco with a live band, your best friends, and plenty of wine, and then having an all-out raging dance party with a DJ and a bunch of randoms?  While wearing all white?

Nothing.  Nothing, is the correct answer.  The Pop-Up Party wins.

As per usual in my world, the whole event was a little last minute, a little spontaneous, and no one quite knew if it was all going to work out or not.  But the best thing about low expectations is that they're easy to surpass :)  This time, we blew them out of the water.  (Nicely done, team.)

We got the email at 3:00pm telling us the "secret location" for the party was the lawn of the National History Museum.  Obviously, my first move was to go buy some wine (and then promptly break a bottle by tripping on the stairs in my apartment building).

Then there was the usual "what do I wear?" chaos, except this time restricted by an all-white dress code.  I only have one white dress, so that was that, but mostly, I was excited to break out my brand new hair donut!  (I'm obsessed!)  We finally got ourselves together around 5:30pm and headed to Thyme Cafe to pick up some (delicious) picnic-y food.

I grabbed the white tulips I randomly had in my apartment for the table and picked up some tea lights at the dollar store.

When we got there at 7:00pm, almost all the tables were set up already and there were so many people!  A lot of the tables were totally decked out with elaborate floral arrangements, beautiful candelabras, and one even had silver serving plates.  It was all so glamorous!  (We decided our table was the "ghetto" table -- a plastic table cloth, and tea lights in plastic glasses!  Haha!)

We found two people who were sitting alone and joined their table, and they turned out to be really really great!  We all chatted and shared food, and swapped info at the end of the night.  In a place like L.A., where people are not always open and friendly, it was just such a welcome surprise.

Before and after dinner, all the guests do the "napkin waive" where everyone swings their white napkins around over their heads and cheers.  So after the sun set and we ate all our food, we waived our napkins...

...and then it was time to dance!

It was an epic dance party, and an epic night.  I hope it happens again next year!

Tuesday

It was 8am when I woke up yesterday morning, although to me it felt like noon.  The summer sun was bursting through the shutters above our bed and the water was already boiling for the French press.  It smelled like eggs.

...Eggs?

Ashleyyyyy, your egg sandwich is ready!!!!

And I was up.

I had an unexpected day off yesterday, which is really the best kind of day off, isn't it?

It started with that egg sandwich, done just the way I (and Joanna) like.  And it ended with citrus-poached salmon (my first time poaching anything!), asparagus with lemon and toasted almonds, and avocado toast.  That's right, I COOKED.  Count it people -- TWO home-cooked meals in one day (two more than I've had in months)!

In between those delicious meals, there was some Olympics watching, pinning, and general internet stalking.  And there was coffee (not in a to-go cup), sipped while lounging on my balcony in the too-early-to-be-this-hot sunshine with a view of the ocean.  Ohh the luxury!

There was also some tramping around town for a bit to do all those things -- the ones you know you should do but you never do because well, you've got better things to do.  I did them all.  And then screamed "I'M FREEEEE!!!" at the top of my lungs while balloons and confetti fell from the sky (in my head).

There was sushi and coconut water for lunch on my roof, with some Elle magazine on the side.  (You know it's been too long since you read a magazine when you start tearing out all the pages "to keep" because everything is "so pretty!")

And then there was book reading, and beach laying on perhaps the most perfect beach day we've had all summer.  I remembered what the ocean sounds like.

And then I had the most lovely glass of rosé with a friend at Shutters.  While it was still light outside!  Imagine that.

The world really did stand still.

FarmShop

One Saturday morning, Brian and I decided to venture outside our little corner of Santa Monica in search of a worthy brunch.   FarmShop, we decided, was where we'd go.  We arrived at the absolutely charming Brentwood Country Mart, sat down at the bright, rustic-modern FarmShop dining room, and decided it had been a good choice.

Then our morning went from lovely to UNbelievable.  In the sense that I had to double triple check that I wasn't dreaming.

Me to Brian:  What are you ordering?  Savory or sweet?  Sweet or savory?  I'm starving.  How is that possible after what we ate last night?  Ohmygosh everything looks good.  And I love these napkins.  Oh, what about the frittata?  Was that bacon on that plate that just passed by?  I want that.  Or maybe sweet?  Pancakes?  Oooh that lady's purse!  Ok, food.  Ummm...I don't know, you decide.

Brian to Me (after completely ignoring all of the above):  (in the voice of Leslie Mann as the sister in Knocked Up)  I think I'll have some fucking Freeeeench Toast.  

(Play this.  It's only 10 seconds.  It's important, I swear.)

I look up.  A small blonde woman, hair swept up in a bun--jeans-boots-cape-sunglasses--walks right behind Brian.  Could it be?  No, it can't.  I look back again.  No.  I look again.  Yes.  YES IT IS HER.  

YES LESLIE MANN AKA THE FRENCH TOAST LADY JUST WALKED BY RIGHT AFTER BRIAN DID HER FRENCH TOAST LINE IN HER FAKE DRUNK VOICE FROM KNOCKED UP.  

And there goes her husband, who happens to be Judd Apatow (nbd).

LIFE WIN.

So that happened.

But besides providing me with my second favorite celeb sighting ever (this is still my first fave), FarmShop totally delivered in the food department.  Like, can we talk about that scone?  Yeah, the herb goat cheese one.  I don't think I knew what a real scone was supposed to taste like until I had that one.  Generally I think of the scone as the muffin's thinner, more uptight stepsister.  But you guys, believe me when I tell you that this scone was like a biscuit and a croissant and a cheese plate combined-- flaky, buttery, salty, savory deliciousness.  I had the frittata with burrata and wild mushrooms and it was hearty, earthy and just the right amount of cheesy.  Oh, and the French toast didn't disappoint either!  Thanks for that one, Leslie; you made my day.

Deadmau5

We went to Hollywood on Saturday night, and this is what happened:

(Necessary soundtrack)

{via YouTube}

{thanks to Tim for the tickets!}

If you played the soundtrack up at the top, then you don't need me to explain how freaking amazing Deadmau5 is (and if you didn't, you're missing out)!  The Hard X Mouth Taped Shut concert (and Sony promotional event for Girl with the Dragon Tattoo - CANNOT WAIT) was the most insane, exhilarating, all around most fun party/concert ever!  Like the kind where you can't help but jump like you did when you were 11 at the Blink182 concert but it's ok because everyone around you is jumping and you're all part of a giant pulsing techno mass and you feel like maybe all those feet landing at once might actually be part of the beat and you can't help but be happier than ever before.  You know what I mean?

Thanks, again, L.A. for my second totally unexpected and awesome music experience this week (the first is here)!

The Night I Became a Lawyer (and then drove to Vega$)

At 7:30pm, we slammed the car doors, started up the engine, and headed east.  I was tired and giddy and residually sweaty.  Vegas sounded like a dream.

At 12:30am, we caught our first glimpse of the strip!  At last!  And there's our hotel!  None of this felt real, not in the slightest.

{thanks to a very nice friend for getting this room for us at the last minute!}

(I was ready to move in.)

It was champagne that night (morning?).  So much glorious champagne.

And pure, genuine, carefree happiness to go along with it.  It felt like nothing could ever be wrong again.

The next day, I woke up after normal people had finished their buffet brunches (as you do in Vega$), and had to pinch myself to make sure that all of this was really happening.  That I really was a lawyer.  That I really had driven to Vegas last night.  That I really had drunk that much champagne.  (Ohmygosh I love champagne.)  That I really was lying in the world's most comfortable bed.  That I really could just press a button and the shades would open.  (Ohmygosh I love hotels.)  That there really were no open container laws here.  (Ohmygosh I love Vegas.)  That I really had absolutely nothing to do for the next 48 hours but enjoy.

And enjoy I did.

{fabulous flower balls at the Wynn}

{Paris.  P.S. have you seen this site?  So much hilarious awkwardness.} 

{City Center} 

This was my first time seeing the Cosmopolitan and I was in L-O-V-E.  

I mean, the place is draped in strings of sparkly crystals from top to bottom.  C'mon.

{Chandelier Bar} 

You may have to shield your eyes from the pretty.

Why yes, I will have another Rose Mist.  And some tickets to Le Reve while you're at it, k?

 

{no pictures allowed during the show, so I just got this one on the way out} 

It was stunning.  There were people rising out of the water, high diving into the water, circling the ring of the pool, upside-down swimming under the surface (how do they do that?), swinging from trapezes across the aisles...there was just so much.  And then there was the lighting, the costumes, the make up, the music.  It was all so fluid, like a moving painting.

And then it was back to the Cosmopolitan for some tapas at Jaleo (delish) and some good-spirited debauchery.

 

Not Pictured (because life was too insane to find my camera): the part where, just as we were walking out of the hotel to get our car and head home, I decided to gamble the $20 in cash that I randomly had in my wallet (because what kind of people would we be if we left Vega$ without gambling at all?  Lame.  Lame people.).  And then I won $360.  Yeah.  YEAH.  I played roulette (gambling for dummies) and bet $10 on 9 and $10 on 18 (our wedding date because that's as good of a date as I could think of), and the ball landed on what I thought was a 6.  So I said "too bad" to the silly-vested dealer-man and walked away.  But then the dealer-man was calling me back, was waving at me.  Me?  What?  I lost, right?  And then the casino floor boss-man in a suit was telling me "come back, you won!" and handing me $360 in plastic chips.  And then I laughed hysterically for about 20 minutes.  Because who just gives you $360???  WHO DOES THAT?

And that's when you know it's time to leave the Vega$.

The storm clouds moved in just as we started back to L.A.  Brian drove and I curled into the leather car seats, heavy with sweet, content exhaustion.

My goodness, what a life I have.