O, the humilification

Yesterday I got to hang out with one of my oldest imaginary friends, Whylime. Meeting up with imaginary friends has much potential for awkwardness, but it always turns out there was nothing to worry about (this is my third imaginary friend meeting!). With Whylime, though, I wasn't even nervous in advance. She knows most all of my secrets and has seen me through several of my many awkward phases. Thus, we spent a few hours laughing and dishing it up like we'd known each other for seven years. Which, you know, we have. Here we are at The Grove, an outdoor shopping thingo in L.A., where we saw NOT A SINGLE CELEBRITY. Not one.

She is tall. I can say this because the boots I had on feature a 4.5" heel. Oh yes.
In lieu of sighting famous folk, we paid a visit to the American Girl headquarters, which was even more disturbing than you think it was. I wish I'd gotten a photo of the angry Filipina girl in head-to-toe black whose job it was to greet everyone in the center of the store. Her long, long hair was a rather jarring platinum blonde, her face was carved into a sneer, and under her right arm was tucked a smiling American Girl doll.

"Hello, how are you," she would say, dejectedly.

Did you know that you can buy your American Girl doll outfits to match the outfits that you can also buy for her pet cat (Licorice) or her pet dog (Coconut), which naturally you must also buy? Don't get me started on the tiny guitar and sheet music (I must confess: I came very close to buying it. Luckily, pride kept my mouth shut.), or on the doll-sized computer desk, chair and monitor, which can be yours for a mere $74.

Anyway, Miss W. and Luke and I had a lovely time. (Luke even learned a new skill: clinking "cheers" with his sippy cup!) I feel a bit bad that she was forced to lodge in the central location of the freakiest of the Hollywood freakiness... next time you're in town, my friend, I'll bring you out of the city and into the South Bay, where it's a lot more normal and low-key.