After living and working in Miami, Buenos Aires, Barcelona and Manhattan, successful models Kelsie (who’s American) and Guillaume (who’s French) recently packed up their car and moved to L.A. to pursue a career in acting. Follow along in their adventures, as they explore new places, work to be discovered by Hollywood, and continue traveling the world. Their dog Yogi is pretty cool, too.
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There's an absolute cornucopia of things to do in Los Angeles on any given weekend. However, on a crisp clear fall night, I don't think there's much that can compare with a fair. Luckily for those Los Angelinos who live in the beach cities (Venice, Pacific Palisades, Ocean Park, etc.) we have our very own amusement park called Pacific Park on the Santa Monica Pier.
That's right: the fair is on a pier!! Yay!! Awesome. It hovers over the ocean and beach on this ancient (but reinforced) wooden pier, that's complete with ferris wheels and bumper cars and arcades. It's not Disney World-sized by any means, but it's been around for over a hundred years now and is something of an historical landmark. Actually, it is the official end of route 66, which - call me a groupie - makes it pretty awesome.
So Guillaume took me “on a date” to the fair, which in my book is one of the best dates you can go on, besides dancing. Something about the smell of frying churros (southern California style) and the thunder of roller coasters, and the way the blinking lights make everyone's face glow is all really enchanting.
Guillaume almost had a fit walking through the arcade and getting nostalgic over all the retro games, like Ms. Pacman and DonkeyKong. We slayed dragons together in one of those old-school “virtual video game” booths with the curtains on either side, and really started to believe we were ninjas.
We jumped around in bumper cars with a pack of 11 year old boys, who, with Guillaume's aide, all ganged up on me.
We rode a rickety wooden roller coaster and had views of the mountains, the city, the ocean, the planked board walk and our own feet. We road the ferris wheel and Guillaume, of course, got too distracted pretending to spot sharks in the moonlit ocean to kiss me. Though did he told me that it was his first time on a ferris wheel . . . which means he either has a terrible memory, led a deprived teen-hood, or wanted to make me feel really special.
We walked all the way to the end of the pier, inhaling the saline air and peering at the dark waters that stretched out forever in front of us. We closed our eyes and guessed which shrieks were coming from children, and which from seagulls who had discovered an abandoned basket of fries.
Buzzing from powdered sugar, Gui and I lusted after a giant teddy-octopus but unfortunately our skills in shooting water pistols at dancing monkey targets need some work. I'm sure one day I'll have a second chance at teddy-octopus and in the meantime I'll have to practice on Guillaume.
Handsom Mr. Octoteddypus
