The main purpose of the trip was to attend a "gaming party" at the home of our friends who live in Canoga Park (in the San Fernando Valley). They have a party every month to which they always invite us and we always politely decline, because (a) they live 145 miles away from us, and (b) we have two-year-old twins. These gaming parties go from 6 pm until sometimes 2 or 3 am, or possibly later, and the twins go to bed at 7:30. Even if we got a babysitter for the evening, the twins would still get up at 6:30 am, and then the next day we'd be zombies.
But this month we decided to give it a try. We planned to attend the party from 6 to 7:30, take the twins back to the hotel and put them to bed, and then trade off going back to the gaming party -- first Rocket Boy could go and play a game, and then he'd come back and I'd go and play a game, etc. It didn't work out very well and we were zombies the next day, but at least we tried.
But we needed something to do in Los Angeles before the gaming party started. Yes, we could have stayed in Ridgecrest until 3 pm and then driven down, but we had a better idea -- why not go to the Getty? The glorious Getty Center museum complex is an easy 20-minute drive from our friends' house. We had gone there together several years ago (i.e., before twins), and we knew it wouldn't be the same WITH twins, but we were still interested. If nothing else, we could sit by a fountain and eat snacks.
And that's about how it turned out. The Getty Center has a very attractive garden to explore, plus numerous plazas and fountains. The museum is free, but they're clearly making some money on parking ($15/car) and food -- many people seem to go there just to sit around and eat snacks. Our kind of place.
But the art, you say, what about the art? The Getty Center has an enormous collection and is constantly buying more. What did we see?
We saw one room of a photography exhibit before the twins started yelling. Later, after a snack, Rocket Boy urged me to go back and look some more while he babysat. So I went back and looked at that room again and then at one other room. And then it was time to buzz through the gift shop and run for the train back to the parking garage.
The Getty Center experience with toddlers does not have much to do with art. Architecture, yes, and gardens, but not pictures hanging on walls.
But for me the really striking part of the whole experience was not the fact that I didn't get to see any art. It was the other people at the Getty, and how different they looked from me. I first noticed this when we were standing in line for the train from the parking garage to the museum. It was a long line that snaked back and forth, so you got a good look at all the other people. And I started looking at their clothes. No one dresses up to go to the Getty, I thought, when choosing my clothes that morning. But I was wrong.
Almost everyone in line had dressed up to go to the Getty. I saw the most marvelous outfits and hairstyles and hair colors. I wished I had a camera in my phone so that I could take pictures of the line without being really obvious about it.
What were we wearing, you may ask? Baby B wore a Thomas the Tank Engine shirt while Baby A wore a Cars shirt. (When I was pregnant I vowed that my children would never wear shirts with licensed characters on them, and there were several families at the Getty who appeared to have made -- and unlike me, kept -- similar vows.) Rocket Boy wore his usual slacks and shirt. I wore an old cotton t-shirt and black cropped exercise pants, which is one of my uniforms, with my desperately-needing-a-haircut hair hanging limply down my back. We were no oil painting, as they say. In particular, I was disappointed with my own look, or lack thereof.
When did this happen? When did I lose all connection with any sort of personal style? Was it due to having twins, to gaining weight, to turning 50, to living in Ridgecrest? It is true that when you have children you tend to want to spend money on them, not on yourself. And when you live in a place like Ridgecrest and you're not working outside the home, it's hard to justify any expenditure of time or money on your own appearance. But geez, there's such a thing as taking a thing too far.
The next morning, after downing 4 cups of coffee at our hotel's continental breakfast (in order to deal with the zombie factor), we went to Bed Bath & Beyond and bought me a full-length mirror. It's hard to improve your appearance when you can't see yourself. And today I put away all my summer clothes and got out my winter clothes (and tossed out a bunch of stuff I don't like anymore). It's a start.
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