Getting dry, getting drunk and Stepping out

Saturday the rain finally stopped and we saw sunshine and blue sky for the first time in days.  Los Angelians poked their heads out of their sodden caves, blinking at the glistening roads and sidewalks, assessing the damage and scrambling to book plumbers and repairmen to clear blocked, overwhelmed drains and fill holes in roofs before the next dose of rain, forecast to arrive Tuesday.  In the morning I rose bright and early to attend a Step class at my new gym.  It was well worth the sleep deprivation;  the class was taught by Sue, whose classes I have attended on previous visits to L.A.  Nice to see a familiar face, especially one that puts together a great step routine.  Bliss!  I have missed Step a lot; I love yoga, and will continue to practice regularly, but the cardio high of step, on top of the pleasure I get from moving through a fun, choreographed routine, can't be beat.

Saturday evening I joined my friend Bruna at a screening of six short French films at Le Lycee Francais de Los Angeles.  Most attendees spoke French fluently, including Bruna and her friend Anjes (both born in France but now living in L.A.), and I stumbled through the niceties of collecting my ticket and procuring a glass of champagne in my limited schoolgirl French.  It was fun to have a little slice of Paris in L.A.  The films were pretty good, although the consensus was that the three before intermission were better than the final three.  Intermission was pretty good too, with wine and cheese served.  After the screening, the three of us went looking for somewhere to have a drink and a bite to eat.  We ended up at a French restaurant on Sunset Boulevard called Clafoutis.  I had eaten before heading out for the evening, but Bruna and Anjes were starving.  We spent a lively hour or so chatting merrily in French and English before heading home.

On Monday I participated in an alcohol study.  One of my actor friends from my Tuesday night class, Tim, works in a bar which periodically hosts these studies.  The aim of them is to test the accuracy of a new machine being developed to measure blood alcohol levels.  So I turned up at 9.30am, along with about 15 other guinea pigs, and by 11am I had consumed the equivalent of four mixed drinks.  We were blood-tested (with the experimental machine - sounds gothic, but it's non-invasive) and breathalised, served up two double-strength drinks each and then tested again about 45 minutes after finishing the drinks.  I blew 0.13.  Yep, I was buzzing but honestly I didn't enjoy it that much, it was simply too early.  At about 1.30pm we were fed and watered and then tested again.  This time I blew 0.09.  The BAC limit in California is 0.08 (compared to a more conservative 0.05 in Melbourne).  Tested again roughly an hour later and I blew 0.077.  I waited a while longer before driving home.  An interesting experience, but I won't do it again.  I got paid $50 for surrendering my body to science for a few hours, money with which I bought a microwave oven.  Gina, my roommate, doesn't own one but I am too used to the convenience of reheating food in a microwave to do without. Especially at that price!

Gotta go chickens, time to sweat it out at the gym :)