Proximity is solid

So I went to Santa Monica last night with Yen, a girl from my rotation lab, and some of her friends. We first did Power Yoga-- a super-intense, liberating workout--followed by a clean up in Westwood, a quick turnaround, and a debaucherous evening along Santa Monica's Main Street. Yoga and alcohol together at last. Total time to-and-from Santa Monica was about 10 minutes.

Unlike Westwood, where there are basically 3 bars (Maloney's, "BrewCo," and "W"), the Main Street of Santa Monica has a wide assortment of clubs and bars. And although I almost got in a fight with a drunkard at one of the places we visited (Apparently, gently grazing someone's arm on the way back from the toilet constitutes unchecked aggression.), the ambiance was overall excellent. And, like all areas in greater L.A., you are always a moment away from fake breasts, foreigners, displaced coke-heads, and 50-something men who roll up to clubs in mid-life crisis mobiles. It's a perverse sort-of eye candy. I love this city.