Alex:  I never know what to drink when I go out. I always ask everyone what they’re getting before I order hoping it will help me make a decision. If I knew my drink, I wouldn’t have to contemplate for three hours whether I want vodka, whiskey, or a beer. I’ve always been jealous of my dad. He has been drinking bacardi and coke for as long as I can remember. He knows what he likes. I want to know what I like. The other night at Moms, my favorite bar in Santa Monica, it has a ping pong table, a nice gentleman asked “Can I buy you a drink?” I annoyingly responded “Hmm…what are you having? I usually go with a vodka tonic or a Jameson and lemonade, but it depends on the night.” He smiled, but I could tell he was really thinking… what the eff do you want? After that encounter, I decided I want to have a drink I like enough to order every time. That way I can actually talk to the cute guy at the bar instead of spending fifteen minutes picking a drink. Do you have a go-to?
Nik:  I don’t have one. But I need one because I do the same thing. I spend forever eyeballing every bottle on the shelf trying to make a decision. Then I’ll ask the bartender what I should get and he’ll ask what kind of alcohol I like and I don’t even know that. I guess I like a dirty martini, but only when I’m craving salt. I don’t like sugary drinks. I like wine, but only at restaurants. Beer makes me burp, which is never ideal, nothing like burping in a guys face right after he asks for your number…yeah. I don’t have my drink yet. I’d like go-to’s. A beer. A drink. A wine.
Alex:  What do you mean burping in a guys face is never ideal?
Nik:   I don’t even know how to respond.
Nik:  I just looked at the link you sent me.  I’m cracking up.  Does your dad wear cargo shorts?

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Nik:  You know how good your skin is after swimming in the ocean? This soap has all the benefits of a Pacific dip without the sand between your toes.
Alex:  Speaking of ocean, let’s go to the beach soon!
Nik:  It’s too cold.
Alex:  Are you kidding me? It’s 70 degrees out!
Nik:  It’s 69.  And when you’ve been in LA as long as I have, 69 is not beach weather.
Alex:  I’m always down to get wet when it’s 69.
Nik:  Ew. No.

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Alex:  I am in love with Allen Stone. No beating around the bush, he’s the best singer alive. He has so much soul and positive energy. This past weekend I went to his concert on the Santa Monica pier. I was like a little girl at a Justin Bieber concert. In fact, the last time I was that excited to see someone perform was when I was at my first N’Sync concert! The entire day was magical. We got there at 4pm and ate at a cute little seafood place at the end of the pier. The weather was warm with a light ocean breeze that made the temperature perfect. I had to take a moment to absorb the environment around me. Dogs were under the tables of their owners, babies were crying loud, homeless people begged for scraps. I felt like like I was in a movie. After our meal we went over to the stage to get our groove on as we waited for Allen to perform. The smell of kettle korn engulfed me and even though I just ate, I had to buy some. On the way I stopped at the beer tent and as I waited in line I noticed how different everyone’s shoes were. It was cool. I saw cobalt blue vans, red jordans, black high heels, pink wedges, the list could go on. I could wear any shoes I wanted and I would’ve fit it. I love that. I loved everything about that day. The vibe. The seafood. The hairstyles. The shoes. The dancing. The people. The crisp air. The energy. It was an environment Wisconsin could never provide for me. I couldn’t stop smiling. This is my new home, I live here now.

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