It’s Tuesday and I’m still recovering from a weekend of wedding coordination on Catalina Island. I have a friend who owns an event planning business. She was
dumb trusting enough to ask me to go to Catalina and run this fancy pants wedding in her place. It wasn’t even in the continental United States! Ok, so it’s 26 miles off of Long Beach and technically still in LA county, but whatever, it’s an ISLAND. That’s faith.
“You can bring a friend” she said. “It’ll be really easy” she said. “All you have to do is keep the vendors on schedule” she said. “You only have to run up 13 stories of ramps approximately 875 times in one day” she did NOT say. That bitch is out to get me.
So, I brought my friend Lauren as my “assistant” (this is a ridiculous term as I couldn’t have done it without her and she was actually way more on top of things than I was at least 47% of the time). Lauren loves a good wedding and likes to eat as much as I do, so I don’t feel like a glutton around her. No brainer. And I suppose the view from the 13th floor ball room made it worth all that
stupid exercise ramp climbing (uh, for the guests…they only had to get up there once).
We stayed in a very pink hotel where some bitch named Ashley at the front desk tried to kill our great mood (unsuccessfully, we just made fun of her cranky ass the whole weekend).
Lauren made fun of me for reading 1984 at the beach (“who DOES that?”).
We somewhat inadvertently robbed a vending machine with a magic quarter that just kept giving us credit and coming back to us (yes, of course I kept putting the quarter in til it stopped, wouldn’t you?).
We ate damn good food at the Avalon Grille (try the burrata, it’s no joke), Cafe Metropole, and the wedding reception at the Avalon Casino Ballroom (possibly the best wedding food I’ve ever had…including my own…sorry SF, it was that good).
And I spent the entire weekend squealing like a child at all the adorable golf carts all over the place – they’re the main form of transportation on the island. Aloof, pampered dogs ride in them.
Children ride in them – in car seats, of course.
Pizzas ride in them (this one isn’t technically a golf cart, but it falls into the miniature vehicle category of cuteness).
So, yeah. I’d show you photos of the wedding, but since I don’t really know the bride and groom, that would be a little weird. If you have to work on a weekend though, this is the way to do it.