This weekend I was in Los Angeles; the week before that, in New York. I am going to write about them backwards, though, because I scoff at the arrow of time. And also, this one will be easier.

Let's try an experiment. Stare at this picture for six seconds.

How was that? Pretty boring, was it? Well if you were to sit and stare at the picture for six hours, you would experience the drive from San Francisco to Los Angeles on glorious I-5. With a special appearance by the pungent smell of cows.

The reason I was going to Los Angeles in the first place was to surprise my dear friend Matthew on the occasion of his birthday. He was having a party and I thought it would be fun to drive down and see him, not to mention assorted other friends, Eric and K.T.'s new baby, and my sick cat. I left on Saturday afternoon, which was the earliest I could get away, and then drove drove drove.

The drive there was not bad, actually. I broke out an old mix called "Monkeys are Never Funny," which I made by downloading every song I could find with "monkey" and monkey-related words in the title, then listening to them all and deciding which ones I liked.

It's got the most random assortment of music ever (from rap to electronica to children's songs) but the monkey motif is fun. My favorite song is this insane Japanese pop song called "Monkey Magic" which is like a sped-up version of the Hamster Dance except less annoying and with someone shouting lyrics in Japanese, with the only discernable English words of "Monkey magic! Yaaaah!"

I made it down in time to stop by and say hi to my parents. My mother didn't believe it was me at first, and she had to explain to my dad that "it's Monique. MONIQUE" even though he was standing right there at the time. Then she gave me some potted plants.

Hanging out with my parents: an exercise in surrealism.

I saw my cat, who has lost some weight and was wheezing but seemed happy to see me. My sister wasn't there yet; she was in Cancun for work. (And I know that seems glamorous and all, but you weren't there when she called me on Friday night after a turbulent plane ride and a frightening venture to town to get a quesadilla.)

She didn't get back in time for the party but my cousin was there, and Tim and Bruce were there, and Matthew's girlfriend, and some old friends from back in the day. And tons of food and excellent sake, and it was just a great party. Totally worth the drive. And the birthday boy was surprised and happy to see me! To paraphrase Jen, he made me feel as if I was a winning lottery ticket.

The next morning I met up with my sister and cousin for lunch at the Cheesecake Factory, and missed seeing American Idol's Randy Jackson by about a minute. So much for my celebrity sighting! My cousin was also going to take me to the Lemony Snicket set, but we didn't have time. I've seen tons of pictures; it looks like an amazing set. But I don't have any cool L.A. stories this time around except for those near-misses.

And my sister gave me a bunch of pictures from Holland, which made me happy, since I lost all of mine when I lost my camera. So now I have at least a few pictures from that trip (one of which you can see on her site).

Then I went and fell in love.

This is baby Brendan. He has monkey toes and the cutest yawn ever. He is awesome, in every sense of the word. That's what that look is, on my face: awe.

And then I drove home. Six more hours of this:

With a little bit of this:

And that was my weekend. On so many levels, exactly what I needed.