It’s funny, now that I’m a mother I am ultra-prepared when I travel, even when I’m on my own with no kid to mind. Good thing too, because on the plane they ran out of turkey sandwiches ($5/each) before they got to my row. What would I have done without sustenance for five hours? I shudder to think of it. My own turkey sandwich on a bagel was hearty enough to carry me through to a late dinner at the fancy Delano Hotel (where I split a $38 steak frites).

My travels began with a trip to LA last night to Corrina’s house. Her house was an excellent segue between my pre-trip jitters and the actual trip: she prepared a wonderful mozzarella, basil, and tomato salad with french bread for a late supper and then we goofed about online sitting on her queen size bed until bedtime. My bed was already made and she got me a lovely, comfy pair of socks as a gift! Very nice send-off. (Thanks Corrina.)

This morning we hightailed to LAX with toasted bagels and cream cheese in hand and made the trip in ten minutes flat.

I met up with my friends and we all made excited plans for the week. They’ve been kind enough to wrangle passes for most events for me too, so lots of art fairs and openings are on the agenda. We all knew people on the plane from the LA art world, so it was a bit like a school field trip to Art Basel, and people all over the plane were hobnobbing and talking art. I read most of my November ArtForum in one sitting; a feat I haven’t been able to accomplish for over a year now. I could hear the guy sitting across from me say, “Yeah, she’s definitely going for the fair.”

The Sherbrooke Hotel where we are staying is perfect: low-key, kitchenette, queen-size memory foam mattresses, and no reception – we just have a  key to the front of the hotel entrance. It’s like we have a private little apartment for the week.

No art yet – just lots of people. Lots and lots of people dressed great. Fancy hotels with beautiful poolside lounge beds and pillows and good art conversation. The strip on Collins Street here feels completely safe (I walked home alone at 1 am and there were other single women doing the same), and I look forward to checking out good Cuban food tomorrow.

I’d post pics, but I’m too dang tired. And my roomie, who showed up sloshed and giggling, minutes after me, is already slumbering peacefully in our bed. It’s all good. I just didn’t want you to worry.

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