Still in no rush to grow up

Yesterday morning I woke up, walked into the kitchen, and noticed a large puddle on the floor coming from my water heater. Uh oh, I thought, that can't be good. It being Sunday, I couldn't get a hold of my landlord, so I called the emergency number printed on the heater. They came right over, which was impressive for a Sunday morning, took a look at the 18 year old heater, and told me that I needed a new one. Since I am in a rental, they would need my landlord's permission to do anything, so I basically wrote them a $70 check for the visit and sent them back on their way.

I called my landlord this morning to take care of it, and while I should have a new water heater tomorrow, there's a possibility I may be without hot water tonight. That's not the worst thing in the world - I can shower at my gym tonight, which I do anyway, and tomorrow morning (which might actually motivate me towards an AM workout) - but the timing of this whole thing is a bit unfortunate. For the last two years, a girl I knew from college has lived next door to me. We weren't particularly close, but, more than my neighbor she was my friend, and I wouldn't have thought twice about asking to just pop next door to use her shower. Of course, she moved out on Saturday.

She and her husband and their dog moved to a house with a pool in the Valley. The irony is that as they moved out, I thought wistfully of a day when I might finally own a home; after hearing the estimate for a new water heater, I was again thankful I was only renting.

My weekend was fun, albeit seemingly pulled from an episode of Entourage. Friday night I went to a house party which was thrown by a fun bunch of guys, one of whom won an Oscar this year and wanted to make sure the entire party knew it. It was all industry people - either actors or agents or managers or lawyers, and while I usually think of myself as being able to talk my way out of a paper bag, I didn't have a whole lot to chat about. Nevertheless, my girlfriends and I left at 3 AM, which I believe is the latest I've stayed out since I moved to LA. I have to say, in the two weeks since I have been 31, I really haven't acted it.

I stayed in on Saturday night, partly to catch up from the night before but also rest up for Sunday, in which I had plans to lay by the pool at the Standard on Sunset. The Standard was a scene and a half, and not really my ideal scene - again with The Industry and 24 year olds in teeny bikini's - but, to my surprise, I had a blast. Jesse Metcalfe from Desperate Housewives was there with his friends; and while gossip sites may claim that he is gay or pulling a page from the Lohan book of rehab, I am happy to report that he seemed fully straight smooching a wannabe starlet and drinking only water. Or, at least out of a water bottle. Oh, and he is entirely adorable.

There was a DJ playing all day, the sun was out and the pool was warm, and I drank my weight in Bloody Mary's. Not the worst way to spend a Sunday. It reminded me of the year before I moved here and stayed at The Mondrian for work, spying on all the pretty people from my balcony and feeling like one later at the SkyBar. Despite the 24 year olds, it was easy to feel like a pretty person yesterday, like the magic of LA had washed over us, making all of us young and fun for one glorious afternoon. Or weekend, for that matter.