To Live and Eat in LA

I’m Kayla, and I went to four Nutcracker shows around L.A. last December with my family. Yes, four. My kid wanted the snow. I wanted the music. My husband wanted a seat with leg room. We all got something.

You know what? I thought they’d be the same. They weren’t. Each one had a vibe, a crowd, and a price tag that felt way different. Here’s what actually happened.

Why I chased four Nutcrackers

I grew up on this ballet. The tree grows. The snow falls. Candy dances. It feels like cocoa and memories. But in L.A., the show shifts by company and venue. So I tested them like I test strollers or earbuds: back-to-back, notes in my phone, sticky fingers from gummy bears.

Let me explain how each one felt—good and not so good.

Stop 1: Los Angeles Ballet at the Dolby Theatre (Hollywood)

We went on a Saturday matinee. If you want to see it yourself, the company’s season info is posted on the Los Angeles Ballet website. I sat in Mezzanine Row J, seats 15–18. Great sight lines. No giant head in front of me. My 7-year-old could see the full stage and the growing tree, which always gets a gasp.

• Parking: We used the Ovation Hollywood garage. It cost us about $20. The elevator dropped us right by Wetzel’s Pretzels. Yes, we caved.
• The look: Classic. Pretty, soft colors. The snow scene hit just right—fluffy and bright, like a shaken snow globe.
• The sound: Recorded music at our show. It was clear and crisp, but I did miss the rumble of a live pit.
• Crowd: Lots of families, sparkly dresses, tiny tiaras. A group in front of us did tiny claps after solos. It was sweet.

The dancing was clean and light. The Waltz of the Flowers had smooth lines, and the Sugar Plum stepped like she was floating. No big tricks, just classy. It felt like the Nutcracker I watched as a kid on a VHS tape, but in 4K.

Downside? Concessions were pricey. I paid $6 for a water. Also, if your kid needs wiggle time, the first act runs long. We walked the lobby at intermission and stared at the giant staircase like we were in a movie.

Stop 2: Long Beach Ballet at the Terrace Theater (big magic)

This Long Beach Nutcracker is a show-show. We went on a Sunday evening. Parked in the structure for about $15. We brought grandparents, which raised the stress level, but also the snack count.

• Live orchestra. Full, bright, and loud in a good way. You feel the bass drum.
• Big effects: A flying sleigh, real-looking snow, and a horse on stage. My dad said, “Well, that’s not subtle,” and then clapped like a kid.
• Sets and costumes: Bold colors, shiny trim, and a tree that grew like a magic trick.

My son sat through both acts without asking for an iPad. That never happens. The Spanish and Russian dances got cheers. The battle scene had a pop and a bang that startled my mom, so if you have a sound-sensitive kid, prep them.

Small pain point: traffic on Ocean Boulevard after the show moved like a snail. Also, the lobby got crowded. If you want cocoa, get it before the line wraps around the pillar.

Stop 3: American Contemporary Ballet (DTLA, up close)

This isn’t a big theater thing. It’s intimate—white space, chairs close to the dancers, and city views. We went at sunset, which helped the mood a lot. They call it The Nutcracker Suite, and it focuses on the music and the core dances.

• No giant sets. No snow machine. Just feet, breath, and Tchaikovsky in the room.
• I could hear pointe shoes kiss the floor. I saw the dancers’ eyes and tiny smiles. It felt personal.
• Dress here is mixed: a few suits, a few sweaters, a lot of black.

That charged, almost voyeuristic buzz of being inches from the action reminded me that some people chase a similar thrill offstage; if you’re curious about the psychology of enjoying exposure and observation, take a peek at candaulisme to find clear explanations of the practice, real-life anecdotes, and essential consent tips for anyone exploring the kink.

We were served a bubbly drink at intermission (I had one sip and then handed it to my husband—lightweight). If your kid is under 8, I’d wait. The space is quiet, and seats are close. A fidget feels louder in here.

Parking downtown cost us about $12 in a nearby garage. We grabbed tacos after because, well, tacos fix everything.

Bonus: Debbie Allen’s Hot Chocolate Nutcracker (family party mode)

We saw this one at the Redondo Beach Performing Arts Center. It’s fast, fun, and full of styles—tap, hip-hop, ballet, and jokes. It tells the story but with extra warmth and a narrator who keeps kids hooked.

• Bright costumes, quick scenes, and big energy.
• Kids cheered. Grown-ups cheered. My niece danced in the aisle till I bribed her with fruit snacks. The night actually reminded me of the open mic marathons I did around Los Angeles—loose, lively, and full of community feel.
• It runs long, so plan snacks and a bathroom stop first.

Parking was easy and cheaper than the big downtown spots. The lobby felt like a reunion—lots of families, big smiles, and church-Sunday outfits mixed with sneakers.

What I loved (and what bugged me)

• Los Angeles Ballet at the Dolby

  • Loved: Classic look, comfy seats, smooth dancing, easy to see from mezzanine.
  • Bugged me: Recorded music at our show, pricey snacks, long act one for small kids.

• Long Beach Ballet

  • Loved: Live orchestra, flying sleigh, big wow moments, great for first-timers.
  • Bugged me: Loud effects for sensitive ears, crowded lobby, slow exit traffic.

• American Contemporary Ballet (DTLA)

  • Loved: Up-close dancing, real emotion, city views, artsy date night vibe.
  • Bugged me: Not ideal for very young kids, small chairs, parking adds up.

• Hot Chocolate Nutcracker

  • Loved: Joy, humor, lots of styles, kids stayed engaged.
  • Bugged me: Longer run time, and some seats had tricky sight lines if you’re short.

Money talk (because it matters)

My lowest ticket was $39 in the balcony for LAB. My highest was $120 for orchestra at Long Beach (weekend night). ACB tickets sat in the middle. Hot Chocolate was friendly on price for a family pack.

Snacks were $5–$12. Parking ran $10–$20, unless you score street parking and feel brave about meters.

Seat picks and tiny tips

• Dolby Theatre: Mezzanine center is great. Bring a sweater—A/C runs strong.
• Long Beach Terrace Theater: Front balcony gave us the full stage and the snow effect. Worth it.
• ACB: Arrive early and sit center if you can. You’ll catch the clean lines.
• Hot Chocolate: Sit a few rows back; kids can see over heads, and the sound blends better.

Other quick stuff:

• Eat before. Hungry kids don’t care about Tchaikovsky.
• For vetted pre-show dining options near each theater, skim To Live and Eat in L.A. and save yourself some last-minute Yelp panic.
• Bring a tiny snack for intermission. Gummy bears saved us.
• If your kid is noise-shy, warn them about the cannon in the battle scene.

Single and hoping to meet someone who geeks out over Tchaikovsky as much as you do? You could pair your theater night with a quick round of speed dating in Clinton—the event page spells out upcoming sessions, age ranges, and ice-breaker tips so you can make new connections as effortlessly as the Snowflakes glide across the stage.

So…which one should you pick?

• First Nutcracker or you want pure magic? Long Beach Ballet.
• You love tradition and neat, pretty lines? Los Angeles Ballet at the Dolby.
• Date night or you crave art up close? American Contemporary Ballet.
• You want a family party with laughs and dance styles? Hot Chocolate Nutcracker.

Honestly, you can’t go wrong. They just feed different moods.

Me? I’ll do two next year. Long Beach for the sparkle. ACB for the soul. And yes, I’ll pack gummy bears again. Wouldn’t you?

I got married at The Ruby Street in Highland Park last fall. I still smile when I think about it.
If you’re curious about every little detail, I unpack even more of that day in this full recap.

The place used to be a little church, and you can feel that calm. Light slid through the stained glass and fell across the floor like soft paint. It looked like a movie, but everyone felt at ease. That mix matters.

Because several relatives were scattered across time zones, we set up a laptop on a tripod and invited them to hop into InstantChat's cam-to-cam room so they could watch the vows live and chat face-to-face with guests without needing any downloads or tricky log-ins.

If you want the full origin story of how that former sanctuary became an event space, UncoverLA has a great write-up.

Why I picked it

My husband liked the clean white walls. I loved the color in the windows. My mom saw the garden patio and said, “Okay, this is it.” We wanted one place for the whole day. No bus rides. No chaos. Ceremony inside, cocktail hour outside, dinner back inside. Simple flow. Easy on our parents, and our feet.

Price-wise, it wasn’t cheap. But it wasn’t the highest we saw in L.A. either. For the look you get, it felt fair. I’ll be honest though—I had to trim a few extras to make it work.
Before we ever toured, I pored over a Dwell photo tour that shows the venue empty—seeing those bones helped me justify the splurge.

The space, in real life

We did our ceremony under the tall windows. The light hit my dress at 4:45 p.m., and my brother whispered, “Okay, wow.” It wasn’t just pretty. It felt warm, even calm. I needed that.

Cocktail hour was on the patio. They have string lights, some trees, and space for games. We set out mezcal, agua fresca, and a little chip bar. My aunt took over. She always does. Kids colored at a small table with crayons I brought. That kept the sugar chaos down.

Dinner was inside. We rented long wood tables to match the space. Their built-in bar looked clean and modern, and our bartender worked fast. Good flow. The dance floor stayed in the center so older guests could sit and still feel part of it. My grandma clapped along from a velvet chair and refused to sit out “Suavemente.” Same, Grandma. Same.

Getting-ready rooms were upstairs. Bright, big mirrors, not cramped. My hair team liked the outlets and light. A small thing, but it helped the day run smooth.

Highland Park vibes help

It’s a fun area. If you're scouting pre-wedding coffee runs or late-night bites, the neighborhood guides on To Live and Eat in LA lay out the best stops within walking distance. A few guests grabbed coffee at Cafe de Leche before the ceremony. After the sparkler send-off (we did the cold kind, venue-approved), some folks rolled to Highland Park Bowl. Others walked to tacos. It felt like the city joined our party a bit. That’s L.A.—pretty, but still casual.
If late-night energy pulls you elsewhere, you can always find a mic to grab—my own saga with the city’s scene lives here.

Staff and rules (the stuff you only learn by doing)

The venue manager kept us calm. She had a tight timeline, but not in a pushy way. We used a caterer from their list for dinner, then brought in late-night churros through a vendor fee. Worth it. DJ worked through their sound system setup, and we kept bass low outside. Music had to end at 10 p.m. because it’s a neighborhood. That’s fair. We switched to a quiet last song and then moved folks to the after-party.

Load-in was a bit tight. Our florist needed an extra 15 minutes to hang a small cloud of baby’s breath, and the team found a ladder and spotters fast.
For anyone still hunting blooms, I rounded up my favorite florists in Palms and shared a few wild stories from the planning trench.
Chairs and basic tables were included, but I loved the look of rentals. So I did both. That gave us style without wasting budget.

We had to hire one security guard after 9 p.m. and use a licensed bartender. Also, no confetti and no candles without holders. Normal stuff, but read your packet. It saves stress.

Parking and access

Street parking was okay for early guests, but it got full near start time. We suggested rideshare on the invite. Best call we made. The venue has space for vendors to unload, but it’s snug. Tell big trucks to arrive a little early.

What I loved

• The light in that room. It’s soft and kind. Your photos will be happy.
• The flow: ceremony → patio → dinner → dance. No bus shuffle.
• The look: clean, colorful windows, modern bar, a little church soul.
• Staff who knew the rhythm of a wedding and kept it warm.
• Guests could walk to fun spots after. No dead zone.

What bugged me (not deal-breakers)

• It ran warm at 3 p.m. in October until the sun dropped. We used a couple of floor fans. Fine, but plan it.
• Sound ends at 10 p.m. I knew this, but I still wanted one more song.
• Bathrooms were clean, but there aren’t many. Put up signs so folks don’t queue in one spot.
• Load-in is tight for large installs. Keep your decor plan simple and smart.

Side note: several single friends at the wedding joked that the night made them want to find their own person ASAP. I told them dating doesn’t have to drag—especially if you try speed-dating nights in Nashua. That page shares a schedule of upcoming events, ticket details, and quick-hit tips so you can meet a dozen compatible people face-to-face in one fun evening instead of swiping for weeks.

A few tips I’d pass to a friend

• Start the ceremony around 4:30–5:00 p.m. if you want the dreamy window glow.
• Ask your DJ for a “low-bass” setting outside. The neighbors will thank you.
• Put “Rideshare encouraged” on the invite. Saves time, saves stress.
• Bring water stations to the patio. People forget to drink water in L.A.
• Keep decor light. The space already has style. Let it breathe.

One real moment I can’t forget

During our vows, a beam of color from the glass landed on my husband’s hands. He looked down, laughed a little, and said, “Guess the room agrees.” It felt like the building was part of the promise. Cheesy? Maybe. True? Yes.

Final take

Would I book The Ruby Street again? Yes. It’s pretty without trying hard. It’s calm, but not stiff. The team cares. Plan for heat, mind the 10 p.m. cut, and keep things simple. If you bring your people and your joy, the room meets you there. And you know what? That’s all I wanted.

I cook for people in their homes across L.A. I’ve done big parties, tiny dinners, and a lot of meal prep. Was it glam? Sometimes. Was it hard? Oh yes. But you know what? I keep saying yes, because I love the work. If you’re curious about the bigger picture, here’s my honest take on private chef jobs in Los Angeles that breaks down the hustle in even more detail.

Let me explain.

My first Malibu dinner (and the wind that stole my napkins)

My first gig here was an 8-person birthday in a Malibu beach house. I charged $110 per person and did three courses. We kept it bright and clean:

• Starter: citrus salad with fennel and avocado
• Main: seared halibut, herb rice, charred broccolini
• Dessert: lemon olive oil cake with berries

The view was wild. The wind was wilder. It blew the cloth napkins straight into the pool. I laughed, then switched to paper. Problem solved. I cooked on a small stove and brought one portable burner just in case. We ate on time. The birthday girl cried happy tears. I sat in my car after and felt ten feet tall. Moments like that reminded me of the joy I felt when I got married at The Ruby Street in Los Angeles—different event, same happy tears.

The West Hollywood vegan tasting that made me rethink tofu

A week later, I did a 6-course vegan menu in West Hollywood. Gluten-free too. I found great produce at the Santa Monica Farmers Market. That market on Wednesday morning? Gold.

I charged $150 per person. The hit dish was a miso-maple roasted carrot with a pistachio-dill crumb. Simple. Sweet. Bright. I prepped half at home, then finished on site. We plated on cute, mismatched plates the client had from a thrift store. It felt artsy and fun. Not fancy. But still sharp.

Meal prep in Silver Lake: the “new mom” routine

Three months after that, I set up a meal prep plan for a new mom in Silver Lake. Three days a week. Three hours per visit. $45 an hour plus groceries. I made soft, simple food she could heat with one hand:

• Turkey meatballs with marinara
• Veggie fried rice with extra peas
• Lentil soup with lemon
• Banana oat muffins

Parking was tight. I learned to come early and bring my own containers. Cambros are my friend. So are painter’s tape and a Sharpie. Label, date, stack. Done.

The Encino wrap party (and the NDA I almost forgot)

One time, an agency booked me for a TV show wrap party in Encino. About 40 people. Buffet style. I took a $700 day rate, plus $200 for my assistant. Rentals were extra. The agency took 15%. The kitchen was big, but the oven ran cold. I used my immersion circulator to save the steak. I also signed an NDA. I almost forgot it in my car. That would’ve been bad.

We served carne asada, a big vegan grain salad, and churros with chocolate. The showrunner hugged me at midnight. I drove home on the 101 with oil in my hair and a grin.

Where I actually find jobs

People ask this a lot. Here’s what works for me:

• Cozymeal: good for small dinners; they take a cut
• Thumbtack and GigSalad: better for one-offs; lots of messages
• Instagram DMs: real bookings come from real photos
• A concierge in Beverly Hills: yes, that’s a thing
• Word of mouth: the best, always

I carry $1M liability insurance through FLIP. I also keep a current food handler card (ServSafe). Some clients ask. Some don’t. I just keep it all ready in a folder.

For an insider’s look at the city’s pop-up dinners, new farmers-market finds, and chef gigs that open up overnight, I keep an eye on To Live and Eat in L.A..

Money talk (the part folks skip)

These are my real ranges in L.A. this past year:

• Private dinner, 2–10 guests: $95–$165 per person, food included
• Meal prep: $40–$60 per hour, plus groceries
• Larger events, 20–60 guests: flat $600–$1,200 per day, plus staff and rentals

I take a 50% deposit to hold the date. I pass along a 3% fee if they pay by card. If groceries push over, I send the receipts. Some clients love a neat invoice. Some want Venmo and a smile. I try to keep both neat and kind.

Do people tip? Often, yes. Not always. I don’t expect it. I price so I’m okay either way.

Curious how your own numbers compare? Have a look at this overview of private chef salaries in Los Angeles for detailed compensation data, and consult this comprehensive guide on hiring costs to understand wages, taxes, and other considerations that affect your final take-home pay.

My go-bag: what I bring so I don’t panic

Kitchens in L.A. are all over the place. I’ve cooked on Viking ranges and on tiny hot plates. So I bring my own basics:

• Knife roll, peeler, tongs, fish spatula
• Instant-read thermometer
• Two sheet pans, two cutting boards
• One portable induction burner
• Immersion circulator for tricky proteins
• Disposable gloves, trash bags, foil, wrap
• Cambros, squeeze bottles, and a roll of painter’s tape

Where I shop? It depends. Whole Foods for quick runs. Trader Joe’s for snacks and flowers. Erewhon when a client wants “that vibe.” Surfas in Culver City for tools. Smart & Final for bulk. Restaurant Depot for meat and produce when I need volume. When I’m in Palms and need bouquets that won’t wilt in the back seat, I swing by a few of the florists in Palms, Los Angeles who never let me down.

The not-so-glam bits nobody shows

Traffic. Parking. HOA rules. Tiny sinks. Ovens that lie. Dogs who think garlic is a toy. Last-minute “Oh, Aunt May is keto now.” It’s a lot.

By the way, the gig-life hours can be strange: you might wrap service at midnight and have Tuesday morning totally free. When your calendar looks like that, lining up dates through a mainstream app can feel impossible. I’ve had friends in the industry swear by PlanCul, a no-strings dating platform tuned for people with unpredictable schedules; they say it lets them meet open-minded locals without the back-and-forth that eats into precious prep time. And if you ever find yourself in Alton on a rare night off, you could trade chef whites for a name badge at a relaxed speed-dating night in town where you’ll meet a dozen like-minded singles face-to-face in under two hours—no endless swiping or scheduling drama required.

I keep a checklist on my phone. I ask about:

• Parking and gate codes
• Oven size and working burners
• Allergies and strong dislikes
• Plates, glassware, and a table that fits the group
• Pets (I love them, but hair is real)

I arrive 15–30 minutes early. I pad time for the 405, because the 405 loves chaos.

Safety stuff that keeps me calm

I use a cooler with ice packs for proteins. I keep hot food above 140°F and cold food below 40°F. I sanitize as I go. I pack a tiny first aid kit. I also bring a spare apron, because stains happen fast.

It all sounds fussy. It isn’t. It’s how I relax.

Who should try private chef work here?

If you like people, lists, and heat, you’ll fit. If you hate changes, it may sting. L.A. clients can be very clear or very vague. Sometimes both in one text. That’s okay. Ask kind questions. Confirm by message. Send a short menu and a simple timeline. It saves your day.

A quick checklist for your first L.A. gig

• Get a deposit and a menu sign-off
• Confirm address, parking, and headcount the day before
• Shop early; keep proteins cold
• Pack your go-bag and labels
• Arrive early; breathe; wipe as you go
• Plate hot food hot, cold food cold
• Leave the kitchen cleaner than you found it
• Send a thank-you note with two photos (no faces unless cleared)

So… is it worth it?

For me, yes. The work is real. The joy is real too. I still get nervous before every event. I still get quiet during service. And I still feel that little spark when someone takes a bite

I live in Los Feliz. I’m on Zoom a lot. And my side profile bugged me. Not huge. Just that soft puff under my chin that showed up in car selfies and Skype calls. I wanted a cleaner line. Not a new face. Just less shadow under there.

So I tried Kybella in Los Angeles. Twice. Here’s how it went for me.
I’d already devoured a full blow-by-blow from another Angeleno—this candid Kybella saga—so my expectations were set pretty high.

Why I Picked Kybella (and not lipo or CoolSculpting)

I didn’t want surgery. I didn’t want a suction cup on my neck either. Kybella is shots under the chin that melt fat over time. Then your body clears it out. Kybella is the only FDA-approved injectable treatment that destroys fat cells in the area under the chin to improve your profile. It’s slow, but you’re awake, and you walk out the same day.

Also, summer was coming. I had a cousin’s wedding in Pasadena. Photos everywhere. I wanted help by then. Reading about someone who actually got married at The Ruby Street and spilled all the feels—here’s that story—reminded me how unforgiving cameras can be.

Finding a Place in LA

I did two consults. For anyone hunting around town, an extra layer of local intel lives at To Live and Eat in LA, where beauty fixes meet neighborhood life in one scroll.

• LaserAway in West Hollywood: fast check-in, bright lights, very “LA” vibe. The nurse showed me the Kybella grid and said I’d likely need 2 sessions, maybe 2 vials first round. Price per vial: $700 with a promo.
• A derm office near Beverly Hills (Dr. Emer’s team did my consult): a bit pricier, but I liked how they mapped my chin and jaw. They took side photos and explained swelling in plain words. Price: $750 per vial.

Parking note (because, LA): WeHo had a meter on Melrose that ate my card. The BH office had valet, which was actually worth it the day it rained.

I went with the BH office. It felt calm, not sales-y. Plus, they had blankets. I love a clinic with blankets.

The Day of the Shots

They put numbing cream on for about 20 minutes. Felt like minty frosting. I got little purple dots under my chin in a grid. Then the shots—quick pokes, maybe 20 to 25 of them. It stung for a minute. Then it felt warm. Like chili oil under the skin. Not awful, but spicy.

I did 2 vials that day. We iced for 10 minutes. I took an Uber home because my neck felt puffy and I didn’t feel like dealing with traffic on Wilshire.

Pain level? A 4 out of 10 for me. The heat faded in an hour.

The Bullfrog Week (Yes, You Will Swell)

This part is real. You swell. You look like you ate a whole baguette at midnight and forgot to swallow.

• Day 1: Swollen but funny-cute. I wore a scarf even though it was 80 degrees. Uber driver did a double take. Whatever.
• Day 2: Peak puff. I worked from home. Zoom from a high angle. I put a cold pack under my jaw while I answered emails. I talked less because it felt tight.
• Day 3: Still puffy, but softer. A little bruising that looked like a bean under my chin. Concealer helped.
• Days 4–7: Swelling went down. But it felt firm and numb. Like a soft shell. Not painful. Just weird.

I slept on two pillows the first two nights. No hard workouts for three days. Chewed slowly because deep chewing felt sore.

Weeks 2–6: The Slow Burn

Week 2: The numb patch was still there. I kept touching it in the grocery line like a weirdo. Don’t do that.

Week 3: I caught my side profile in the car mirror. Looked less puffy. A tiny bit cleaner at the angle where my necklace sits.

Week 4: My friend in Silver Lake asked if I lost weight. I hadn’t. But my hoodie string fell straight instead of curving over that little pad under my chin. Small thing, big grin.

Week 6: The line was better. Not sharp-sharp. But better.

Round Two (Because One Wasn’t Enough for Me)

Eight weeks later, I did a second session. This time we used 1 vial. Less swelling. Still puffy for two days, then fine. Same numb patch, smaller area.

Three months in total? That’s when it hit. In clinical trials, 68.2% of subjects treated with Kybella were ≥ 1-grade composite responders, compared with 20.5% of subjects treated with placebo. My before-and-after photos were not fake TV stuff. But I saw it. FaceTime screenshots told the truth. I even stopped tilting my chin up for every pic. Well… most pics.

What It Cost Me

• Session 1: 2 vials at $750 each = $1,500
• Session 2: 1 vial at $750
• Valet twice: $24 total
• Arnica gel and ice packs: $18
• Total: about $2,292

LA is pricey. No shock there.

Side Effects I Felt

• Swelling like a bullfrog for 2–3 days
• Numbness for about 3 weeks each time
• Firm spots under the chin that slowly softened
• Light bruise once (pea-sized, easy to hide)

No trouble swallowing, no weird lumps after it settled. If you get anything off, call your provider. I’m just sharing my story.

Little Things That Helped

• Book it on a Friday. Trust me.
• Ice packs in 10-minute bursts. Don’t press hard.
• High-neck tops or a scarf for two days. Cute and helpful.
• No salty food or drinks the first night. I skipped wine. Hard, but worth it.
• Ask if they can add a touch of lidocaine. It made it easier for me.
• Bring earbuds. Music helps during the pokes.

Bonus mood booster: treating myself to fresh stems from a neighborhood shop I discovered through this Palms florist roundup—nothing distracts from chin puff like a vase packed with ranunculus.

Stuff I Wish I Knew Before

• The numb, firm feeling lasts longer than the swelling. It’s normal, but it messes with your head. Be patient.
• Photos every week help you see change. Daily pics are just… mean.
• If your skin is very loose, you may need other help too. Kybella kills fat; it doesn’t tighten skin a lot.
• Some injectors treat tiny jowls; that’s a different plan. I stuck to under the chin.

So… Did I Like It?

Yep. I’m happy. It didn’t change my face. It just cleaned up the part that bugged me. I still use good angles. I still love a chunky sweater. But my jaw looks neater in light and in selfies. I feel more like me.

Feeling more confident about my profile also nudged me back into the L.A. dating pool—if you’re curious to see how other local girls are living their best lives (or maybe meet someone new), take a scroll through this gallery of local girls where you can browse genuine profiles and potentially spark up connections that appreciate your refreshed look.

Prefer to meet potential matches face-to-face instead of through a screen? Check out these lively speed-dating events in Rialto where you can cycle through fun, timed conversations and walk away with real-world chemistry in just one evening.

Would I do it again? If the area needed it, sure. My plan is to keep my weight steady and see how it holds.

Who I Think It’s Good For

• You have a small to medium pocket under the chin.
• Your weight is fairly stable.
• You can handle a puffy weekend.
• You want a slow, steady change, not a big, fast jump.

If you try it, pick someone who does this a lot. Ask to see their real photos. Ask about swelling, dose, and how many vials they think you’ll need. Ask how they mark the grid. If they rush, that’s a flag.

You know what? Kybella in LA felt very LA—parking stress, iced green tea in the lobby, and a scarf in June. But the result? Worth it for me. I catch my profile in the Trader Joe’s freezer door now and don’t wince. That’s a win I can feel.

I live in L.A. I go on a lot of date nights. Some were perfect. Some were messy and fun. I’m Kayla, and these are the ones that stuck with me. You know what? I like nights that feel easy, even when the plan looks bold. For an even deeper dive into my tried-and-loved formula, check out my full rundown of real date-night wins in Los Angeles.

If you’re reading this and still searching for a compatible co-pilot before you tackle any of the outings below, carve out one evening for an upbeat Inland Empire mixer like Speed Dating Montclair where you'll meet a curated crowd of local singles in quick succession and potentially walk away with a ready-made partner for your next adventure.

Big Views, Soft Talks

Griffith Observatory (here’s how to get there) at sunset still gets me. We parked down on Vermont Canyon because the top lot was packed. It was windy, so we wore jackets and shared one scarf. The telescope line was slow but sweet. The museum inside is free, and after 9 pm it calms down. The view makes the city look like glitter. The city light haze sparked a nerdy side conversation about air-quality numbers—if you've ever squinted at AQI readouts and wondered what “ppm” actually stands for, check out this quick explainer that unpacks the abbreviation in everyday language so you can brag about your science know-how on the next lookout date.

We once walked the path toward the Greek Theatre after. It was quiet, with trees and little city sounds. Simple and romantic, no heavy price tag.

Food Crawl + Little Adventures

Grand Central Market (official site) is a playground. We split tacos at Tacos Tumbras a Tomas, grabbed a bite at Sticky Rice, and shared a scoop at McConnell’s. It felt like a mini tour, with busy lines and chatter. Then we rode Angel’s Flight up the hill, like kids. We ended at The Last Bookstore for photos and weird finds. Cost stayed fair, and the night felt full.
Before any big grazing night, I skim the latest tips on To Live and Eat in LA to see what’s popping up and worth a fork.

Little Tokyo is another win. We slurped ramen at Daikokuya, then shared a cruller at Café Dulce. We picked mochi at Fugetsu-Do and walked under the red lanterns. Parking under Weller Court made it easy. It smelled like soup, sugar, and rain. That mix just… works.

Koreatown gives you dinner and a show, even if the show is you singing badly. We grilled meat at Soot Bull Jeep. It’s smoky, and you’ll smell like char after. Worth it. Then we sang at Karaoke Bleu. The remote lagged a bit, but we laughed so hard we cried. If you’d rather belt it out in front of strangers and maybe discover a new side of each other, scope one of the city’s many open-mic nights for an adrenaline-spiked date twist.

Art Night Without the Fuss

The Broad is free if you book ahead. Our standby line also moved fast on a weekday. We stared at the big Jeff Koons balloon dog and felt like kids. Otium next door had great bar snacks; the fries went first. We walked the Walt Disney Concert Hall garden after. The metal looked like waves, and the air felt cool. Around the holidays, I’m a sucker for classic performances, and snagging seats for a local staging of The Nutcracker in Los Angeles turns an art night into pure magic.

LACMA at night is mostly about Urban Light now, with all those glowing lamps. We took photos, then sat at Ray’s & Stark Bar. The La Brea Tar Pits next door do smell a bit like eggs, but we still laughed and leaned on each other.

The Academy Museum surprised us. The round theater seats were comfy but a bit cold. Bring a sweater. The costumes made me want to whisper. We did.

Outdoors That Feel Like Movies

Echo Park Lake swan boats at night are cheesy in the best way. It’s around $12–$15 per person for an hour. The boat has little lights, and the skyline sits behind the palms. We saw ducks, smelled the water, and talked about dumb stuff. We ate deep dish at Masa after. Yes, it’s heavy. Yes, it hits.

Santa Monica at sunset is a coin flip. June gloom can roll in and hide the sun. But the Ferris wheel at Pacific Park is fun even when it’s cold. Bring a hoodie. We walked the pier, grabbed churros, and watched street music on Ocean Ave. Parking is pricey, but the ocean never gets old.

El Matador Beach in Malibu feels wild. We went at low tide to see the sea caves. Wear real shoes; the rocks can bite. There are only pit toilets up top, so plan ahead. We had a picnic and left before dark. The cliff stairs got us breathing hard, but the photos looked like a travel ad.

Moonlight Rollerway in Glendale is pure retro joy. The playlist slapped. Rentals ran a half size smaller for me. I wobbled, then found a rhythm, then didn’t want to stop.

Movie Nights With Vibe

Cinespia at Hollywood Forever Cemetery is a classic. We brought low chairs, a blanket, and way too many snacks. There was a DJ and a photo booth. Planes hum by, and it adds to the mood. Parking gets chaotic, so we usually ride-share. It feels like camp, but stylish.

Rooftop Cinema Club in DTLA gave us headphones and deck chairs. The skyline glowed, and the breeze made me tuck into my sweater. Blankets helped. The sound is crisp, and no one talks over the movie. That’s a miracle.

Alamo Drafthouse DTLA feels like a secret cocoon. Seats are comfy, the popcorn has real butter, and the queso is trouble. They mean it about no talking. We loved that.

Laughs, Music, and That Buzz

Largo at the Coronet gave us a surprise guest once, and the room went nuts. It’s more mellow than the big comedy clubs, with strong sets. The Comedy Store can be wild and loud, but the energy is electric. I always bring cash for a quick exit drink nearby.

Dodgers game for date night? Yes. We grabbed cheap top-deck seats and split garlic fries. We stayed for Friday fireworks. Traffic was rough, so we used the shuttle from Union Station. It saved us a headache.

An LAFC match at BMO Stadium brings a heartbeat. The 3252 section stands and chants all game. If you want chill, pick another section. We shared elote outside after. Corn, lime, chili—perfect.

Hollywood Bowl date nights feel like a picnic that sings back. We brought wine and sandwiches. Rent a cushion; the benches get hard. The Park & Ride worked well, but the line home moved slow. We just held hands and waited.

Sweet Teeth, Warm Hearts

Wanderlust Creamery has ube malted crunch that I still think about. The line moved fast, and the staff knew their stuff. Salt & Straw lets you sample a ton. Sometimes we argue over flavors, then split both. Pie Hole’s Earl Grey pie is floral and cozy. It tastes like a quiet hug. Speaking of floral, snagging a mini bouquet from one of the standout florists in Palms beforehand upgrades the sugar run to an all-out swoon.

Bookstore Cozy

The Last Bookstore has a book tunnel that makes me feel like I’m in a story. We got lost on purpose. Then we sat with iced coffee and shared a cookie. Skylight Books in Los Feliz is calmer, with a sweet shop cat. After, we had wine at Covell and planned our next trip. It felt grown-up in a good way.

Weird, Fun, and Worth It

We tried Maze Rooms in Koreatown—the Pyramid one. We got stuck on a puzzle with ropes and symbols. Staff tossed us a hint, and we barely made it. We left amped and high-fived like we won a final.

Two Bit Circus in the Arts District is a mini arcade wonderland. VR here, ring toss there, and goofy games that made us yell. It’s not cheap, so we set a budget. Then we got tacos at a truck nearby and called it a night.

Tiki-Ti is tiny and cash only. Drinks pack a punch. When the bar chants, you chant too. Tonga Hut in North Hollywood is bigger and easier for groups. We picked the corner, talked slow, and let the night stretch.

Quick, No-Stress Plans (I’ve Run These)

• DTLA Stroll: The Broad (free), Otium fries, Angels Flight, The Last Bookstore, Wanderlust scoop.
• K-Town Heat: Soot Bull Jeep for smoky BBQ, Karaoke Bleu

Why I Finally Called

My kitchen sink in Highland Park kept burping up gray water. It smelled like old ramen and pennies. I tried a snake. I tried hot water and baking soda. Nope. By day three, the sink was a grumpy swamp. So I called a Los Angeles hydro jet crew. (If you want to screen companies first, a quick scroll through the BBB-accredited hydro-jetting options in Los Angeles helps cut the guesswork.)
Spoiler: it turned into my own Los Angeles hydro jet story of grease, roots, and real relief.

I chose a local outfit a neighbor liked. They serve Northeast LA and the Valley. The tech, Luis, said, “Old cast iron plus jacaranda roots. Classic.” I laughed. It wasn’t funny. But it was true.

What They Did, Step by Step

They pulled up around 9 a.m. The taco truck on Figueroa hadn’t even fired up yet. If you're craving ideas for where to grab a bite while the hoses run, To Live and Eat in LA has a running map of local gems. And if you’ve ever day-dreamed about working behind those kitchen doors instead of just eating in front of them, check out my honest take on private chef jobs in Los Angeles for a reality check.
Two guys. A portable jet machine. Hoses. A camera kit. My dog barked at the hose like it had a grudge.

• First, they found my clean-out near the driveway.
• Then they ran a small camera down the line.
• We watched the screen together. Grease looked like white soap clouds. Roots looked like spider legs.
• He said, “We’ll jet at 3,500 to 4,000 PSI. We’ll start low.” That mattered because my pipes are old.

The hydro jet sounded like a pressure washer on caffeine. It whooshed. The hose pulsed in the pipe. It took about 30 minutes on the kitchen line and another 25 on the main. They paused a few times to pull the hose and flush.

The Gross but True Part

When the jet hit the grease, I heard it break up. Like wet sand. When it hit the roots, the machine tone changed. A lower hum. They pulled out stringy, wet roots. Purple bits from the jacaranda stuck to them. I felt weirdly proud. City trees have hustle.

The Good Stuff

• The sink cleared right away. No glug-glug.
• The shower drained faster too. Bonus I didn’t expect.
• They showed me before and after video. Before looked like a cave with cotton candy walls. After looked like a clean, dark tube with a smooth floor. I could see the joints.
• They left the work area clean. No muddy boot prints on my tile. I notice that stuff.

The Not-So-Great Stuff

• It’s loud. Not unbearable, but my cat hid under the bed.
• It uses a fair bit of water. In LA, I care about that. The tech said the machine recycles some, but still.
• If your pipes are super fragile, you need a careful hand. Ask about pressure. They were careful with mine and started low.
• Parking. It’s LA. They had to double park for a bit. My neighbor gave me a look.

All that fuss just to keep the pipes happy made me laugh at how a single “meow” from my scaredy-cat could out-decibel a 4,000-PSI pump. That little feline moment sparked a reminder that the French word “minou” means both “kitty” and—depending on context—something far more risqué. If linguistic double-entendres entertain you, take a peek at this cheeky French photo diary — it illustrates the playful overlap between innocent pet talk and adult slang, giving you a humorous cross-cultural tidbit to share at your next trivia night.

Cost, Time, and the Little Add-Ons

I paid $625 total:

• $500 for the hydro jet on the kitchen and main line
• $125 for the camera before and after

Time on site: about 90 minutes, start to finish.

They offered a “spot repair” on a flaky section by the sidewalk for $2,800. I said not now. I’m planning to save and get a liner later this year. If you’ve got an older duplex like mine, you know—one fix leads to the next.

Tips I Wish I Knew Before

• Ask for a camera check both before and after. Keep the video file. It helps if you need a quote later.
• Ask what PSI they’ll use on older cast iron. Mine handled 3,500 fine.
• Clear a path to the clean-out. Saves time and stress.
• If roots keep coming back, set a reminder for a yearly jet or a liner plan.
• Check if your city lateral is your responsibility. In my part of LA, it is. Fun, right?

A Small Tangent About Smells (And How It Ended)

That metal, eggy stink in my kitchen? Gone. I cooked beans that night and didn’t smell a thing but cumin and onions. I didn’t realize how tense I’d been about the sink until I wasn’t. Funny how pipes do that. They’re quiet until they shout. With the swamp smell gone, my partner and I could finally think about something more fun than plumbing—like deciding where to go for our next night out. We actually used this roundup of real date night wins in Los Angeles to celebrate the victory with tacos and a rooftop movie.
If you happen to be farther east and single, you can scope out the local micro-dating scene through Speed Dating Bessemer where you’ll swap the endless app swipes for face-to-face conversations with a dozen potential matches in one relaxed evening.

Would I Do Los Angeles Hydro Jet Again?

Yes. For clogs, grease, and light roots, this hit the sweet spot. If you’re still weighing the pros and cons, take a peek at the hassle-free benefits of hydro-jetting sewer lines for homeowners—it lays out why the method makes sense for both stubborn blockages and long-term pipe health. It felt fast and thorough. It also felt safer than chucking chemicals down the line. If your pipes are paper-thin, ask for a gentle pass and proof on camera.

You know what? I wish I’d called a week sooner. I lost two mornings to that swampy sink. If your drains gurgle, don’t wait for the full horror show. Hydro jet saved me from that. And the next time the jacaranda gets cute, I’ll be ready.

I’m Kayla, and I’ve been to Los Angeles Canna three times now. I went once on a Saturday, once after work, and once on a sleepy Tuesday morning. I’m picky about shops, but I’m also patient. So, here’s how it really felt—good, messy, and very LA.
If you want the blow-by-blow version of each visit, I stashed it over at my full Los Angeles Canna review.

The vibe when you walk in

There’s a guard at the door, but he’s friendly. I showed my ID each time. They scanned it quick. The lobby is clean and bright. Music hums, but it doesn’t shout. The waiting line moves, unless it’s lunch rush. On Saturday, it took me about 12 minutes. On Tuesday, I was in and out in five. Classic Los Angeles—timing is everything.

The floor team talks like real people. No hard sell. No weird pressure. I asked newbie questions the first time, and they didn’t make me feel silly. I hate feeling rushed. Here, I didn’t.

What I actually bought (and used)

• Wyld Raspberry gummies, 10 mg each: Tasted like real fruit. I cut them in half at first. Smooth, even feel. Great for winding down after a long drive on the 405.
• Papa & Barkley 1:3 Releaf Balm: I used it on my sore right knee after a hike at Griffith. Warm feel, no greasy mess. Nice smell—herbal, not loud.
• Raw Garden cart (Hybrid): Clean hit. No cough. Terps came through piney and a little sweet.
• Maven Genetics eighth (Indica): Dense buds. Sticky. Smelled like grape candy and a hint of diesel. I used a small spoon pipe and didn’t need much.
• Baby Jeeter pre-rolls (five-pack): Fun for a movie night. Burns fast, though. I saved two for later. If you’re planning a fun date night, check out my real-life go-to spots for an easy win.

If lining up the perfect vibe before meeting someone new is also on your mind, and you’re trying to figure out which dating platform can actually deliver, skim this candid Badoo review—it lays out the app’s standout features, hidden costs, and safety tips so you can swipe with confidence.

If you’d prefer to ditch the apps entirely and meet potential matches face-to-face, consider carving out an evening for Speed Dating South Lake Tahoe—the event lines up a string of low-pressure, five-minute conversations, offers post-event matching based on mutual interest, and lets you walk away with genuine connections instead of yet another unread DM.

For more information on Wyld Raspberry Sativa Gummies, you can visit the official Wyld website.

To read customer reviews and learn more about the product, check out Weedmaps.

Were these cheap? Not really. This is LA. But the mid-tier deals felt fair. Shelf tags show pre-tax prices, so the total climbs at the register. It’s a shock if you’re new. I paid with debit. There was a small fee, like the normal cashless ATM thing. Bring cash if that bugs you.

Staff that actually helps

On my first visit, Jasmine asked what I wanted the night to feel like. Not just strain names. I said, “Calm, but not sleepy.” She set me up with the Raw Garden cart and a low-dose gummy plan. It worked. I watched a Lakers game and stayed mellow, not couch-locked.

Another time, Miguel pointed out that the store brand eighth was fresh that week. He actually checked the pack date on the jar. I love that. He also reminded me to start slow with the gummies. I know that rule, but it’s nice to hear.

Little hiccups I noticed

• Online menu said a certain flavor was in stock. It wasn’t when I got there. They offered a swap, same price, different terp profile. Not a big deal, but it happens.
• Parking is… LA. I found street parking one block over by a taco stand. Watch the signs. Bring quarters or use the meter app.
• The line gets long on weekends. If you hate waiting, go early or near closing. Tuesdays felt chill.

Small things that made me smile

• They let me smell a few jars (with the little sniff cap). Fresh, not dusty.
• The floor team knew which edibles run heavy and which ones creep up slow. That saved my night.
• They didn’t rush me when I checked the labels. I peek at COAs and pack dates. Old habits.

Prices and deals, plain and simple

• First-time discount: I got a decent break on my first trip. It helped with taxes.
• Daily specials change. I’ve seen markdowns on carts and pre-rolls, but not every day.
• Taxes are the real kicker. The shelf price is not the final price. Plan for that jump.

Who this shop fits

• New folks who want someone to guide them without being weird.
• Regulars who like mid-tier brands with a few treats on the top shelf.
• People who don’t mind a quick wait if it means solid service.

If you’re chasing the cheapest price in the city, this isn’t that. If you want clean shelves, smart staff, and a steady vibe, it’s solid.

A tiny tangent that does matter

I always bring a small snack for after—like a banana—or at least water. Sounds silly, but it keeps me from overdoing it when I get home. And if you’re doing gummies, split them. You can always take more, but you can’t take less. Simple, but it saves a night.
If you’re more into cooking something special at home instead, I’ve spilled the tea on what it’s really like working private chef gigs around Los Angeles—worth a read if you dream of plating your own munchies.
If you want ideas on where to grab a quick bite nearby once you’re stocked up, take a glance at this locals-friendly LA food guide and thank me later.

My bottom line

Los Angeles Canna feels like a neighborhood shop with city prices and real guidance. I got what I paid for and didn’t feel pushed. I’ve had smoother trips on weekdays, but even Saturday worked out fine. I’ll keep going, mostly for the staff and the clean product mix.

Would I tell my cousin to try it? Yep. Bring cash, bring your ID, and bring a little patience. You’ll be okay. And maybe grab those Wyld gummies. They taste good, and they don’t hit like a truck—unless you want them to.