I will walk 500 more

So the correct thing to do after a food coma-inducing brunch is... to marinate in fat during a long nap.

The not-lazy-blob thing to do is walk a good two and a half miles from Santa Monica to Venice... in the sun and breeze... along the beach.  Straight to a cup of coffee because Amelia was struggling (little did she know it was only the sad beginning).

We creeped on Ann from loft seating at the very hipster coffeebar.  This is the kind of place I will meet my future husband (jokes).  Where people are writing and having meetings and chatting and, in our case, people watching.  After that quick breather, we ooed and awed at the many boutiques on Abbot Kinney.  And I inwardly mourned being unemployed as I stroked the soft fabric of the pretty dresses and held up all the potential diet-motivation shorts.  We ended up strolling up and down a couple of times, for there were two sides of the street to explore.  The day = such a great workout.
At about the exact moment a restaurant called Pork Belly was mentioned, my body was beginning to tremble with hunger *ahem* hanger.  Unfortunately, the hunt for dinner was prolonged because Pork Belly was not as I imagined it (sometimes it's not living at all if living with food regret) (am I dramatic?) (only when it comes to eats).  So as the blood sugar dropped me down to dangerous-and-delusional, I charged right towards Lemonade at the very end of Abbot Kinney.  It was the worst place to force a quick decision, what with all the beautiful salads and meats and carbs and soups.  It was too much, too much.  But the vibrant watermelon radishes caught my eye.  Tossed with tuna and snap peas.  It was the perfect, light and refreshing snack before dinner.  And to keep myself intact.

Snack because Ann had her stomach set on Gjelina.  Good thing we got there promptly at 5:30 because the line of listless people grew longer behind us as more and more of them filed in without reservations.  The view from the waitlist seating was just so Cal.  Watching them churn out plates of grilled peaches and burrata lead to an awful case of food regret.  The thick and juicy half slices taunted me as I neatly ate my anchovy toasts.  Don't get me wrong, my toasts were still fantastically balanced and filling enough... but the delivered dishes that were 80% peach plates awakened my seasonal craving.  I bought a single peach at a grocery store later that night.

In case you were just about to ask, Nancy got one of the vegetarian personal pizza and Ann got delicious head-on prawns.
"I would've shared, but there were only three."
"Yeah for like $4 a prawn, I wouldn't have shared either."

#selfiesfordays
And then later I experienced my first bout of heartburn.  Not fun.
I put my body through a lot sometimes.