driving after sunset in la

Oh hey, here's a little ramble about driving after sunset in la, as a mom trying desperately to slow down time and make magical core memories for my six year-old, all at the same time.

Aka The Drive That Reminded Me Why I Do In Fact, Love LA... Aka, a core magical mom moment. Something that comes in unexpected waves as an urban mom, in a city like LA. To the sound of a very elder millennial playlist.

I love when it gets dark at five o'clock .. am I weird?

I think it was the moment she said "Mom, I feel like we are in New York City." That I realized this was a special night drive. It was funny because, the early darkness paired with awake senses, many bodies still out walking the sidewalks, all against darkness and speckles of twinkling lights from cars, homes and shops - did in fact feel like NYC. And funny enough, my kid has never been there.

November 1. The day after Halloween.

The first day the clocks fell back.

I woke up at 4:30 a.m., as every elder millennial lapsing in and out of perimenopause does, and I cleaned like all day. And I put away all the Halloween stuff. I pounced the air out of the blow-up cat, I shoved the six foot Malificent into the garage and I pushed all the Halloween trinkets into a random storage closet in our home. I did laundry and moved some furniture, because yes, I am still figuring out the layout of this new house and constantly change my mind on where to work, play, sleep and dance. Then as the sun dipped down and glowed that big blurry bright golden glow over the Pacific Ocean, through the trees and right into your eyes, I went on a bike ride around the block with my kid. The air had been blustery all day. It was that fresh, fluffy, post-rain air. Rosalie and I colored at the dining table. Organized sparkly beads. We read some books. We had some snacks.

I made dinner at 2:30 p.m. and we ate it at three. Pasta with butternut squash and butter beans and fresh greens picked from my hydroponic grower. It was so good.

And then around 6:30, while my husband was passed out on the couch, wrapped in a fluffy Lola blanket, and my daughter got this burst of energy.

And I was right there with her. She squealed, "I wanna go ice skating!"

“I wanna go ice-skating.”

I had told her that the ice rink in Santa Monica opened today, and her eyes brightened up in that way they do when you know something is just the most magical thing ever. When I told her we could go now, I forget exactly what she said, but it was something like, “I can’t believe we’re doing this. I think I’m dreaming.”

Now, the thing about the clocks falling back is that it was dark outside. Like pitch black. It felt like it was 10 p.m., but it was only 6:45.

So we throw on some sweats. I don’t have a bra on. She’s wearing some sparkly, mismatched outfit that is just warm and cozy, and she’s so excited about it. And I feel a core memory about to begin.

Night Drive LA

The sun has set, but the sky is still tangerine and violet with hints of deep blue and pink. The moon hovers somewhere and the air finally feels crisp enough for a sweater.

We hop in the car. We drive to the ice rink. It is, in fact, open. There are people skating, and it doesn’t look too crowded. But the weird thing is, there were no tickets available online. We decided to risk it anyway.

We walk up to ask about tickets, and I look around. Nothing but people in black suits. High-top tables set out with champagne and flowers. And I realize, oh.

I ask a nice lady in a tuxedo, “Is this a private event?”

“Yes, it is. I’m so sorry.”

I look down at Rosalie. She has a unicorn hat on, and she’s just so sad. She squeezes my hand extra tight.

“Okay. That’s all right.”

And as we’re walking through the parking lot to leave, a man in a fancy suit walks by us, looks me right in the eyes and says, “I’m so sorry.” As if he planned the whole thing and actually felt bad, although I have no idea if he did.

It was kind of a nice little show of humanity. It made me feel like, oh, we had a sweet moment here. We gave it our best shot. It felt adventurous. It’s okay.

TWILIGHT CAR RIDES

We hop in the car, and my daughter is indeed upset.

“What should we do? Should we go to the pier? Should we go buy a squishy at the mall?”

I needed this magical night to be something, so I’m throwing options against the wall. And then I say, “Do you just wanna go to In-N-Out?” We haven’t done it in a while, and she loves her grilled cheese and fries from In-N-Out. And a 7UP with the yummy ice. Her eyes brighten up. “In-N-Out!” And I’m like, oh, well, this will be easy. Way easier than going to the pier or buying a squishy at the mall at eight o’clock at night.

So I put in the Westwood In-N-Out, and we drive over. I know it’s a bit of a drive. It’s not right there. But I knew this drive would be lovely, and Westwood is always very nostalgic for me.

I lived there for a long time back when I was in college, like 25 years ago. Over on Veteran and then Gayley, and I worked at the Jamba Juice down in the square while I went to college.

I have so many memories of Westwood. Going to movie premieres. That movie with Michelle Pfeiffer and Harrison Ford, and seeing them with my own eyes, standing there in front of the Bruin Theatre. Going to California Pizza Kitchen and Jerry’s Famous Deli. When Native Foods used to be there, and it was my favorite restaurant ever. All those good things.

So, go to Westwood? Yes. Absolutely.

WESTWOOD

The whole drive, we’re listening to whatever music my car is playing on “Kathy’s Station.” The first song I really started on was “Distant Memories” from Titanic. Then the next one was “A Thousand Years, Pt. 2” by Christina Perri.

And I felt like my daughter was gonna look at me and be like, this song is so boring, can you please change it? But I played it once, all the way through. She was looking out the window, just quiet the whole time. And then she said, “I like this song a lot.”

We played it again.

And I’m literally sitting there just singing it to myself. I’m almost always in tears when I hear this song because it reminds me of her. You know, “I have loved you for a thousand years. I’ll love you for a thousand more.”

It is like 100 percent my IVF inner-monologue soundtrack. That whole journey of my life.

So when she says she wants to play it again, my heart just melts. And I play it like two more times.

After that, I let this random playlist my car is choosing for me keep going, and it’s just perfect. We make our way to In-N-Out. It takes me a few loops to figure out how to get into the line, but I finally do. And then I look back.

My daughter is asleep.

We’re already in line, so I figure, well, if she wakes up, she’ll want her food. I’ll buy it anyway. And I get to listen to this music while I just watch the hum of Westwood go by. The music keeps playing, and it’s lovely.

SLEEPY KID IN THE BACKSEAT

I finally make my way through and start driving home. Through these sparkly streets, with lights and people, on this crisp, beautiful fall night. And I’m just driving around.

Basically, we went out driving without really knowing where we would end up. And that used to be one of my absolute favorite things to do in LA.

I remember just getting in my car and driving. We didn’t have phones the way we do now. There weren’t maps on our phones. Or social media. There was MapQuest, where you had to print out the directions, and you’d just get in your car and drive around LA listening to your favorite music.

That’s what it felt like tonight.

But instead of me being alone in the car, I have the daughter of my dreams in the backseat, looking out the window, telling me she wants to hear the same song as me.

And I don’t know. Tonight was kind of magical.

KINDA MAGICAL

Kinda like that scene in LA Story where Steve Martin stares at the sign in the 405 as kit actually talks to him. Same vibes.

I love it when it gets darker earlier. I love seeing people already putting up their Christmas lights. Twinkly trees and rooftops in those golden, warm white lights. People taking down their Halloween decorations. Feeling like I can finally wear a sweatshirt because the air feels crisp.

And then finally pulling up to my house with my daughter in the backseat, sweetly snoring. Completely conked out. When just an hour and a half ago, she was ready to go ice-skating.

It was a really, really sweet evening.

my playlist for an evening drive around LA - where your kid is very likely to fall asleep

If you want to try it, here’s the playlist in the order it played, from about 6:30 to 8 p.m. on the first night after the clocks fell back. With a few extra plays of “A Thousand Years,” obviously.