Rock Shows, Wasties, & A Lost Purse

In my week's absence I've been a bit busy. Spring must be finally getting to me, because I'm quickly coming out of my three-month hibernation. If my wireless router wasn't the biggest piece of crap ever, you'd have heard of the latest shenanigans sooner.

After a long week of working for the man came Saturday night. For the first time since I've been in LA, I was able to walk into a bar (Hotel Cafe) and know (almost) the entire crowd. High school friends, college friends, cousins, old friends, new friends and boyfriend were all there. The drinks were on. The venue was packed. The music rocked. The band was Zach Broocke.

A little bit of Tom Petty, a little bit of Black Crowes, Joe Cocker and Elvis Costello. Thrown together in a more modern, fresh way. The lyrics ring of life and loss, love and regret. Zach's songwriting is some of the most moving I've heard...it will touch your soul like nothing else.

At any rate, the show was also a release party of Zach's new EP, Last Call. A time to celebrate. Afterwards, a few of my oldest buddies ever (recently reunited over on this side of the world) hopped on over to Beauty Bar to continue with the festivities. From there we headed across Hollywood for a massive piece of cheese pizza (my fave) and then over to Edendale Grille in Silver Lake to meet the rest of the crowd.

About halfway through the night, or should I say halfway through the last part of the night, I realized my purse was missing off my shoulder. I always have it. Always. I casually glanced around and when I didn't see it, I decided that it must still be in the car. When the valet guy drove up and it wasn't, panic set in. The 2 o'clock hour was spent retracing our steps all night.

Yeah...I'm going to leave my purse in a Hollywood bar and it's still going to be there. Especially when it contained my $300 digital camera, my $300 phone, cash that I never carry, and a $100 signed check. Sweet.

While driving everywhere, I started calling my phone, non-stop, with my man's phone. At one point some dude answered and then hung up on me after I started talking. Bastard. A little while later, once we were on our way back home, my phone was calling my man's phone. Thank God!

Turned out to be at the last bar we were at, even though when we left they said they had nothing. After the shock wore off and the relief set in, I quickly dug through to make sure everything was there. By some great miracle, it was. An odd thing, though...they took a bunch of weird pics with my camera. Pictures of my purse sitting on the counter and pictures of wine bottles??? How bizarre, how bizarre.

Things turned out alright in the end. And once I erased the whole losing the purse thing from my memory, She Said it was a perfect, rock n' roll style, Hollywood night.