LA-DI-DAAAAAA...

Just thought that I'd update. I've been on the slow road to the restaurant/bar scene lately, opting for quiet nights at home. I think I'm secretly wishing that it would get cold. It's mid-November, and there are fires burning in SoCal. Maybe I'm still not used to it after these past few years, but damn. Can I get a wind-chill factor? Can I have a reason to bust out my space heater? Can I wear a coat already? Put on boots? A scarf even?

OK. I digress.

Just to update you (or not), I haven't been out lately. I went to Comme Ca again last weekend, but this time for brunch. I figured that blogging about my dinner experience there (from a couple of months ago) would serve the same purpose, so eh. Brunch was awesome, though! Had the quiche, and it made me happy. It was almost just as good as my Dad's (love my Dad's quiche). That same weekend I also finally hit up Rush Street in Culver City, but only for drinks. I'd been wanting to check it out for a while, and from what I was able to eye (from other peoples' plates) the food looked good. I have yet to try it. (Vodka-sodas, though, were great, and did the job.)

In other news, yesterday I suffered a loss. Yes, friends, I lost my Prada sunglasses while out Christmas shopping for my God-children. I'd like to say that it was a loss all in the name of gift-giving, but that's too easy. And truthfully, it just doesn't sit well with me. It was a loss that I couldn't stand to bare for a couple of reasons:

1) I wasn't drunk. I was sober as all hell. The last pairs of sunglasses (D&G and Emporio Armani, respectively), were lost during random drunken nights. Those I can blame on the effects of alcohol; my mind was clearly not working right, therefore the loss was easier to bear. (PS: I also lost a pair of Versus sunglasses, too, but I think in the end I didn't really like them enough to care, even though I spent just about $200 on them. Whatever.)

2) The whole incident was (is) a real-time affirmation that I do not need to purchase designer sunglasses ever again.

I noticed I was missing them when I got into my car. All I remember was realizing, out loud, that "I don't have my Prada sunglasses!" Knots started to form in my stomach, and sweat started to form on my brow. The thought of losing another pair was too much to handle.

I threw my stuff into my car, and then back-tracked all the way back to the store. I walked in, without trying to look too obvious (I didn't want the workers to see me there again, with no shopping bags; so weird), and I started skimming the floor around all the areas that I had walked through. When I got to the back of the store, I was literally screaming in my head: "St. Anthony, help me! St. Anthony, help me!" Then I realized that sounded too selfish, so I changed it up a tad: "St. Anthony, PLEASE help me!" Ah, it was too late. They were nowhere to be found. And I thought to ask someone, but at that point I had come to terms with the fact that no one would rightfully turn in a pair of Prada sunglasses. Someone ganked that shit.

I returned to my car, defeated, and proceeded to the gym. When I got to the gym at work, I was the only person there. I walked right into the men's locker room, plopped my bag on the bench, and fell to the floor.

I had a moment.

I grudgingly got changed, then went to the workout room. I got on a treadmill, and before I started my run, I had a mini-meltdown. I was literally screaming, at the top of my lungs (and hitting things around me): "WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME!" I was on the verge of tears, but nothing would come out. Instead, I ran a mile in less than 10 minutes (which I haven't done in YEARS), so today I am sore because of it. (I got on the elliptical afterwards.)

When that was done, I went home and drank a bottle of red wine to mourn my loss. And I secretly went on-line to look at possible replacements. That went on for a good few minutes before I realized that I was being an idiot.

I am going to have to pass on the designer sunglass thing for a while. (Even though, after I went back to the store to look for my glasses, I walked into Loehmann's to see what was there. I was close to buying these ugly-ass Dolce and Gabbana aviators when I realized that I was being a total drone, and looking to replace something so material that it shouldn't even matter to me.) And it doesn't matter to me. (Well, until after the holidays it won't matter to me. Ha.)

So that's the latest and greatest with me. I'm sure I could dish on fun-ner stuff, but I chose to share this story because there is a moral to it: DO NOT WEAR YOUR DESIGNER SUNGLASSES OUT IF YOU'RE MORE THAN LIKELY TO LOSE THEM.

Side note to all those suckas who are now in possession of my Versus, D&G, Emporio Armani, and - now - Prada sunglasses... I hope that you're happy. You are stylin' at my expense, and my sheer stupidity. It's my fault, but in the end you're still in possesion of my sloppy seconds.

Fuckers.