While her brother and dad were up in the mountains snowboarding, Curls and I kicked off weekend one of our back to back girls’ weekends. We had planned a day in LA so when we found out that the March for Our Lives was going to be the same day, we knew we had to be there.
With our posters made and snacks in a backpack, we rode the train from Fullerton to Union Station. We met fellow marchers and even had other train passengers tell us good luck and thank you. The other marchers we met were high school students and a teacher. My anxiety did try to take over (I was almost hysterical and my voice hit window breaking pitch) when I realized I had bought Metro Link tickets and I tried to ask an Amtrak employee what to do. In a not very nice tone she told me to just get on the train and somebody would help me. They did but I was still beating myself up over the mistake the next day (but seriously, am I the only person who gets confused when it comes to Amtrak/Metro link?).
When we got to the March and we were surrounded by everyone who believed in the cause, it was inspiring, powerful, and emotional. Curls didn’t really understand the significance of the March while we were waiting for it to begin and I could feel myself getting frustrated. I then took a deep breath, reminded myself that she is a kid, and tried to clear out the negative to focus on the positive. Seeing all the March volunteers in their “We Can End Gun Violence” t-shirts and florescent netted vests, an abundance of police officers, and helicopters hovering overhead, I was reminded once again why I love California. From the “Hollywood Liberal Elite”, to sanctuary cities, to organized marches where 99% of the people are on their best behavior, there is a feeling of everyone looking out for each other as opposed to every man for himself. I left the March believing there is good in the world and it will survive all the hate that is thrown at it.
After the March Curls and I walked to one of our favorite spots, The Last Bookstore. The intoxicating smell of books, the kind employees, the second floor where small businesses sell art, and the young adult and comic book section are all parts of the sum of why we love this fantastic seller of books.
Our next stop was Little Tokyo. When Curls was much smaller we were able to attend Hello Kitty Con and we were both in heaven. So our main stop was the Sanrio store. She squealed over Gudetama the Lazy Egg and all of Hello Kitty’s friends. And since she won’t go anywhere near the Easter Bunny in the mall (I can’t blame her-have you seen them these days??), I was thrilled that she wanted to take a picture with My Little Melody:
Way cuter than the Easter Bunny, don’t you think?
We left with a bag of stuff we didn’t need but Curls and my inner 8 year old were giddy.
Our last stop of the day was The Broad. We admired the artwork of Takashi Murakami and others before we finally realized we were starving and tired (the smell of the street corner carts cooking sausages followed us throughout the day).
After Google Maps led us on a wild goose chase back to Union Station (my sense of direction is for crap), Curls not believing me that all the tents on the streets were homeless camps (still working on her acknowledging her privilege), and we almost missed our train, we breathed a sigh of relief when the train started moving back home.
I hope you find passion and happiness this weekend!