I need to let the leggings thing go, I realize.

I was in Santa Barbara this weekend as, apparently, I start to get itchy if I'm not going somewhere, anywhere, far, far away every couple of weeks. It was fun, albeit short as I was in LA the night before and after. It was a mini SoCal tour of sorts, you see. I like to dip in and out before I get too tarnished by the locals. I've seen so many abuses of the dreaded legging this weekend that I feel as though perhaps I should just give in a write a five paragraph essay about how insulting leggings are to, ahem, legs, and women and MY EYES! MY EYES! and humanity as a whole. I only saw one woman sporting the trend who didn't look like a jackass, and I'm pretty sure if I could figure out how she managed that, I would be a step closer to solving the issue of world peace.

So where was I? Ah, yes! Santa Barbara...thank you.

So I was in Santa Barbara this weekend at a birthday dinner for my friend Andrea. I was talking to one of the guys at the table and conversation had veered towards vacation and I lamented that I needed about five days on a beach somewhere to give my head a rest from my life. And! how I was sad that winter was approaching because that would mean the loss of my tan and OH MY GOD I'm boring myself recounting this conversation. He looked at me quizzically and raised and eyebrow and said, "Wait? You mean you're able to tan?" And I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW that I'm currently quite dark. For me. Which means that safety goggles are not required when looking directly at my face to shield you from the rather awesome glare that usually comes off of my lily white skin. So I replied, "Dude. I could practically pass for a native right now." And then we took a picture together and I was just this white smudge on the left hand side - sort of like an apparition that's only noticeable as this queer glow in the corner of photos. The person who took the picture is quite possibly still blind, poor thing. The guy laughed and said, "You look like whatever is haunting that house in Paranormal Activity." So naturally I kicked him in the shins and pushed birthday cake up his nose.

So I'm now waiting to head to the airport in the hopes that my flight home is as uneventful as my trip down here was. Of course, now that I've said that, I'm screwed and will most likely end up flashing the TSA agents while going through security. I'll let you know how it goes.