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AWOL.COM/Alice Edwards’ Travel Blog: Living My Dream and Feeling Very #Blessed
20 April – 8.13 p.m.
Good evening, dream chasers,
I have just arrived back at my friend Isabelle’s luxury apartment here in the Sunshine State ofLA. She picked me up from the airport in a limo, and we enjoyed champagne in the perfectly regulatedair-con, as we drove back to her incrediblyimpressive home in Santa Monica.
She is the very same Isabelle I remember from theUK. But – if it is possible – she is even more serene and wise with the benefit of a little age. I can confirm she has not been changed by her huge success in the movie business, despite admitting – when I pressed her – that she now knows Leonardo DiCaprio!! I feel confident we are going to get on very wellduring my stay with her.
All in all, it has been a wondrous first few hours here, and we are about to don our best attire and hit the hottest barLAhas to offer.
Oh, also, sorry about that picture I just uploaded. We drove past Owen Wilson and I was trying to get a photo and share an insight into this world I now inhabit. But I don’t understand aboutre-sizing so it came out upside downand too large. I don’t know how to delete, so please just ignore it.
All my love and peace to you all,
Alice x
#PleaseDon’tLookAtThatPhoto #WillGetTheHangOfThisSoon #OwenWilson #TravelBlogger #Travels #Travelling #Wanderer #GoneAWOL#AliceEdwardsBlog #OffTheBeatenTrack #BloggerLife #Blessed #Brave #DreamChaser
1 Comments · 0AWOLs · 1 Super Likes
COMMENTS:
Karen Gill
|I’m staying up for the jet lag craic to set in, then you’ll be less smug.
Hoiking my massive backpack further up my shoulders, I am swimming in sweat by the time I finally spot Isabelle across the car park.
Sweating: another thing Travelling Types don’t do.
She’s picked the furthest away spot and I trip over myself as I pick up speed to reach her.I’m feeling hot and cross, like some kind of Easter bun.
‘Hello!’ I shout jovially from a distance, trying to communicate that I need help with my bag. She waves back, but doesn’t move, and I almost stop in my tracks as I take in how different she looks. She’s platinum blonde, dressedhead-to-toe in yoga gear, and even from twenty feet away, I can make out the tight sheen of a face full ofBotox. She looks good, don’t get me wrong, but very ... different.
Isabelle was our family’s neighbour when we were little, and the pair of us were quite close until we started secondary school. That was when she – a brunette back then – turned into an uppity heinous bitch just because Karen with the cool Irish accent started paying attention to her. The two of us didn’t speak for, like,five years, but then we reunited in sixth form, which is around the age you realise uppity bitches can be brilliant. After that, Isabelle, Karen and I were pretty close – along with Amelia and Slutty Sarah from our year – until Isy moved to theUSabout eight years ago. That was around when I met Eva while I was temping for her legal firm and we moved in together. I can’t believe how long agothat is now. And how much has changed, and maybe no one more so than Isy.
Anyway, when I told her I was coming over toLAfor a while, she got super excited and insisted I stay with her for the first week. Which sounded really generous in theory, but then she casually mentioned that she’d need me to pay rent and was quite specific that I’d have to move out after a week because she needed thespace back to use as her dressing room.
I love her, but there’s always small print with Isabelle.
‘Where’s your car?’ I huff, out of breath when I finally reach her.
She waves at somethingodd-looking beside her.
‘It’s a hybrid?’ she says, climbing in and pressing buttons. I open the passenger side, throwing my giant bag in and climbing in after it. Theplastic-y floorquivers under my weight.
Isy continues, speaking in her delightful new upspeak accent. ‘I paid double because I care about the environment? But also because it used to belong to Leonardo DiCaprio? You’re sitting where Leo would’ve banged at least a half dozen blondetwenty-year-olds?’
‘Is that why it smells weird in here?’ I say, crinkling my nose.
‘No, that’s probably thegem-infusedprotection mist I’ve sprayed everywhere?’ she says, nodding authoritatively. ‘It is a psychic vampire repellent, to stop any bad energy infecting my aura?’
‘Um ...’ I have nowhere to go with this and yet I am overwhelmed with questions.
She continues smoothly. ‘I’m a subscriber to the lifestyle website Gloop. They talk a lot about the importance of staying on top of these things becausethere are so many people around here who want to suck away your life energy.’
