Round here

I've never thought of myself as being particularly well-equpped for sunny climes.

I'm pale and freckly, and far from happy wandering around in a tiny bikini (by which I mean, you will NEVER see me wandering around in a tiny bikini).

But...

Those yellow things? Fake lemons. I have no idea why.

Lately it's really felt summery here - perfect, cloudless days without the crazy, intense heat that comes into play later in the year.

So what better way to spend a Sunday afternoon than hanging out by the pool at the Roosevelt, surrounded by absurdly muscular men with multiple tattoos, and ridiculously attractive women in very, very small bathing suits?

*Out of shot - two LA visitors, and me, fully clad, in the shade, eating burgers and drinking mojitos, bitching about the best and worst of the many fake boobs on display, and wondering if any of those girl have been on The Hills.*