While our place in Venice is a bit further away from the beach, we've discovered that we're basically in the heart of the Venice nightlife.  Last night, we got our first glimpse into what a Friday night in Venice can be like, and it can be pretty goofy.

Our Friday night was pretty tame -- Hong Kong chow mein and long-life beans from Mao's Kitchen, half an hour in the hot tub, and a DVD screener of Up in the Air, courtesy of one of our neighbors who is "in the industry." We were asleep by 11:30.

It was a little hot, so we left the window by our bed open as we slept. All the good Venice bars -- or at least the popular ones -- are within a half a mile of our house, so I was understandably woken up several times by passers-by enjoying their evening.  Around 3:30, though, I was woken up by a voice that was very, very close. Just outside the window, in the alley next to our house, I could hear a gentleman talking with a couple of girls he had picked up about the hot tub on our porch. "See it? It's over there, in the ground. Yeah, with the cover on it."

That was the extent of the conversation, as they stumbled their way back toward the apartment in the back half of our building.  Another hour -- and most likely more alcohol -- emboldened them to come back for another look. "I've been in it, it's really warm!" said the upstanding young gentleman. "You know, this place isn't even being used right now." I could see where this was going. "They rent this place out, and it's winter. I mean, who wants to come to Venice in the winter?" After another ten minutes of this sort of logic, he finally convinced the girls that they should absolutely climb over the wall and get in that hot tub. This is the point in which I had to make a decision: I could either nip this in the bud right now by turning on the porch lights, or let it play out a little longer and have a little fun. I obviously opted for the later.

Now, to be fair, I'm only making the assumption that these guys were drunk. I would make the initial assertion that anybody awake at 4:30 on a Saturday morning in Venice can't be too sober. Add to that the fact that they convinced themselves that the house must be empty because "it's winter." Yeah. Who would want to go to southern California in the winter? Finally, there's the state of our porch. It's far from a mess, but it definitely gives the distinct impression that someone is staying here; One chair has January's swimsuit draped over it, another has my sweat shirt on it, and the table has Gus' leash sitting right there. But we're clearly not talking about the brightest group of people that southern California has to offer.

Once this fine young gentleman convinced the ladies to at least stick their feet in the tub, he began the arduous task of trying to convince them to strip down and get in completely. This did not take long at all for the first girl; I think she had her shirt off before he was even able to finish the sentence. The second girl took was a lot more steadfast in her resolve to not take off her clothes in a strangers hot tub with a guy she just met. What a prude, right?

It was about this time that our brave protagonist decided to call some other friends and tell them to bring wine, and I decided that I had let it play out long enough.  To be honest, I was hoping that by flipping on the porch light I would be initiate a frenzy of activity as people scurried to cover themselves and get the hell out as quickly as they could. What I got, however, was the only other possibility: the "deer in the headlights" reaction. As soon as the lights snapped on, three heads snapped immediately toward the door, mouths agape and eyes as big as saucers. Nobody moved for a full ten seconds. I finally had to stick my head out the door and inform them that it was time for them to go home. The gentleman -- such a class act -- could not get off the porch fast enough as he left the girls to take care of themselves.

This morning I woke up and went for a really good run on the boardwalk. On my way back up to the house, I passed these two lucky ladies on their walk of shame. We made brief eye contact as I offered a nod and an acknowledgement of "ladies." They quickly turned their eyes down to the ground and continued on their way.

Add a comment

Postard #2 going out today to Jay.

Add a comment

I promised last month that anyone who sent us a letter -- or baked goods -- while we're visiting Los Angeles for the month would be responded to in kind. Of course "in kind" means with a letter. Not with baked goods. Just for the record.

On our way out, January had the idea that we should send a postcard every day to someone back home, regardless of whether or not they wrote us first. It sounded like a fun idea, and who can't find time to fill out a postcard, right? It's, like, twelve square inches of space. Of course, the first week blew by and neither of us has written a single postcard.  This evening, I decided to break the habit and write the first of what will hopefully be thirty-two postcards. Recipient #1: Jason Leimgruber.

Jason, I'm not sure if you can read it just from the photograph or not, but you should have it in hand shortly. Treasure it, knowing it was sent from a much warmer place than where it arrived.

My offer for a full-blown letter still stands. We've already received a letter from the lovely Miss Kelly McKenna, and we'd love to hear from you, too. You can write us at:

Team Soell
363 Rose Avenue
Venice, CA 90291

Add a comment

While the apartment we lived in last year during our stay in Venice was perfectly adequate and exactly what we expected, it was by no means "nice" -- unless the word "nice" is used in the context of "Oh, it's nice" along with a little shoulder shrug. But really, it was what it was: a sublet from another tenant, super cheap, and a block from the beach. We honestly had no room to complain, and we had an incredible time.

This year, we opted to spend a little more money and rent a place that's a little more polished. While we're a little further away from the beach (six blocks instead of one) and in a smaller place overall (a studio compared to last year's one-bedroom), it's a lot nicer in terms of eminities.

Last year, we had access to a second floor balcony that was shared with the whole building, but this year we have our own private fenced in porch. Off to the left, you can just see the large double-doors that open up to the patio, and Gus loves the fact that we leave them wide open all day so he's free to wander in and out as he wants.  From about 10am on, you can usually find me sitting right over there at the table, working away on the laptop and enjoying the sun.  You can also make out the hot tub cover at the bottom of the picture, which is pretty fantastic.

What you see here is pretty much the rest of it. One half of the room acts as our "bedroom." Which is really just a bed. The other half -- our "living room / kitchen" -- has a nice couch, desk for our inside work space, and a nice swiveling LCD tv that we can either point toward the couch or back toward the bed.

The back wall has a micro-kitchen with tiny, tiny appliances .  The doors that are currently on the right slide back and forth for access to the closets. Cooking in this kitchen is definitely an exercise in space conservation, but it handles everything we need it to.

Finally, the bathroom is very nice. Double sinks and a huge showers. Next to coffee, nothing wakes me up like a good shower so I was really happy to see that our shower situation was a little better this year.  I'll seriously spend a good 20 minutes in there each morning... What? Don't judge me.

So that's really it. There is a shared washer and dryer outside, but apart from that I've covered all 400 square feet of Team Soell's LA Headquarters. It looks tiny, but we try to get out of the house and enjoy the weather as much as we can, so it hasn't really become an issue. Check back with us in a month and maybe we'll be ready to get back to our two bedroom house, but for temporary lodging I think this place will do just fine.

Add a comment