Pah! No volcano's going to stop my friends

Posted by Helen Whitaker at 20:57 on 27 Apr 2010

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I love it when friends come over to visit me in LA. Not just because they bring chocolate and because you know, they're my friends and I want to see them, but because it forces me to actually DO stuff over here.

In theory I should be exploring previously unexplored bits of the city and hanging out at the beach all the time, but, well, I don't. Mostly I'm holed up working from home, or doing the same things I'd do in England, somewhere else. Going to the supermarket, the gym or meeting friends for lunch or coffee at the same places we always go. I think no matter where you live, you get stuck in the same ruts even if the ruts are quite pleasant.

But it's always brill when people come over and there's a whirlwind of dinners out, midweek drinking sessions and impromptu weekends away. This time, despite the spectre of volcanic ash (which wasn't really a spectre, seeing as she was here when it happened and was hoping she wouldn't be able to get home) we managed to get in:
1) one trip to Coachella (my liver is still recovering)
2) one big, scary rollercoaster theme park excursion
3) one roadtrip to Vegas
4) Shopping on Melrose, shopping in Palm Springs, shopping in Santa Monica, shopping everywhere really

It was great and hopefully my friend thought so too. I have noticed though that people say the same things when they come over. The most popular phrases from visiting Brits are:

"Don't you just feel like you're on holiday all the time?" - usually said while wandering around Venice or Santa Monica and meandering in and out of coffee shops.
and
"How are you not really fat when portions sizes are so big?" - usually said while scoffing an enormo-lunch somewhere.

For the first, while admittedly it is nice to be somewhere sunny, working is still working wherever you are, so I still get stressed and fed up and feel distinctly un-holiday-like. And as a freelancer, my usual sod's law situation is that I have nothing on in the week before a friend's visit and then I get a commission the minute they arrive. Cue madly juggling entertaining with work and feeling less holiday-like than ever.

As for the second, the only way the boyf and I have avoided becoming some sort of Jamie Oliver nightmare is by not eating out all the time. The restaurant portions sizes are indeed massive and the takeout box has become my best friend. You can usually get at least another meal out of the restaurant size meals. Which comes in handy when we wave friends off at the airport and resign ourselves to 3 weeks of staying in while our bank balance tries to recover. Luckily, they always leave a load of yummy British chocolate too, which softens the blow.

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