I’ve never been to Ibiza, that far-flung orgy of techno and Eurotrash. But I’m told that if I want a far more palatable version, it can be found every Sunday at Moonshadows in Malibu. There we found a collection of well-dressed people who looked like they might be European, with their tans, lithe figures, motorcycle shades, and upturned collars. Did they just dock their boat? That day it was hazy and overcast, so the music, spun by Mick Cole (also of Monday Social fame) was a perfect match -- mellow yellow, burbling and gurgling beats that undulated to match the waves beneath us.

New Year’s Eve is the ultimate night out—or as us hardened clubber’s refer to it—Amateur Night. However, if you want to brave the unwashed masses, there are a few palatable things for you to partake in. We’ll guide you, but since we’re staying in our own hood, we won’t be able to hold your hand. Sorry.

Every year, we make a resolution. Some of us are, uh, erm, more resolute about these little lists than others. And so I queried people in L.A.'s nightlife scenes—everyone from restaurant owners, chefs, DJs, performers, and photographers—about their 2009 resolutions, and their success rates, as well as their promises to themselves for 2010. Here's to a brand, spanking new year. Let's hope this one's better than the last one!

Today is the final day of LudoBites, the ragingly successful pop-up restaurant helmed by French chef Ludo Lefebvre. We missed our chance to go last week when we came down with a nasty cold. We sent a friend in our stead, who reported being stuffed with rich and richly made food. So jealous. We asked the Chef a few questions about his run at Royal T and tried to coax out his favorite Christmas recipe in time for the holidays

You’d think Christmas week would be a dead zone in nightlife, but you’d be wrong. Since many of us need an escape from stifling and awkward family encounters, and because some of us might even be Jewish, and will be skipping this whole Santa schmanta thing anyhoo, parties abound. We’ve compiled a few things for you do this week—besides stuffing your face in between crying about whatever your little brother said to you at the dinner table.

Maybe this makes me an alcoholic, but one of the biggest bummers about Los Angeles nightlife is that whole no-drinking-and-driving thing. I know there are people who do it (for shame), so I live my life relatively un-sauced, because I stick to my one-drink minimum. This weekend, my hood, Santa Monica, normally the province of the most boring happenings this side of the Upper West Side, is hosting a bonafide Pub Crawl, it’s very first. In accordance with merriment and cheer, the participants are asked to dress festively (elves, Santa, reindeer, you get the drift), while they drunkenly trawl around town. Admission is a can of non-perishable food to be donated to the Westside Food Bank. And apparently, they are serious about that Merry outfit thing: you will be given a Santa hat to wear if you come merry-less.

The people behind Coachella, the king of the West Coast festival circuit—and one might say the country—have announced the dates for 2010. You’ve got till April 16, 17 and 18th to save up a whole ton of your pennies for the purchase of the $269 three-day pass. That’s a lot of pennies, which is why the fest is offering layaway as an option for the second time ever. Layaway—so 1955 and yet so appropriate for our debt-ridden, cost-conscious times. The fest is also mixing it up in other ways: You’ll be able to “car camp” for the first time ever, which spurs memories of Grateful Dead concerts. Will Coachella camping become a roving counter-culture? Will you be able to get weird home-cooked burritos or get your hair wrapped with multi-colored thread? Probably not, but the idea is intriguing.

As I previously mentioned, I am a Lost fangirl. When the show is on, I spent hours after it airs trolling message boards for clues, Easter Eggs and analysis of seemingly meaningful moments. I'll admit it, I have a problem. Jensen Karp, also a Lost fan, provided a small respite last night for all the lost Lost junkies in Los Angeles. His gallery hosted a Lost-inspired art show, filled with pieces that were fantastic on their own—even if they were divorced from the Greatest TV Show Ever. (Yeah, whatever Wire, Mad Men, and BSG people—I see your critical acclaim and you and raise you one smoke monster, two polar bears, and a Michael Emerson). When Jensen mentioned there would be special guests, silly me assumed that meant some of the actors would show up and glad handle the geeks. Nope, Jensen meant REALLY special.

The holidays are upon us and that means people are squeezing all their fun into the few weeks leading up to Christmas and New Year’s (perhaps to take the edge off of awkward family dinners?) Three events this week make me giddy.

Tonight, I will get myself unnecessarily worked up way too early for the final season of Lost (which doesn’t start till February!!!), at the fine spot known as Gallery 1988. Run by Jensen Karp, the Gallery offers up sweet pop-art of the likes of Greg Simkins, Dan May, Luke Chueh, and many more. Tonight is the party for the Lost Underground Art Project. For the past year, a mysterious site (www.damoncarltonandapolarbear.com) has released pretty awesome Lost posters based on the show. I was thinking of getting all of them, but I thought maybe that would make me seem a little crazy. OK, a lot crazy. If I had to get just one, it would be the “Locke” poster by Olly Moss. It looks super retro and minimalist, and has an empty wheelchair with the phrase, “Just don’t tell him what he can’t do.” They are releasing a few more pieces tonight and Jensen hinted that maybe a few “guest stars” would be there. I immediately thought, 'Sawyer, and Locke, Sayid, and Hurley, oh my!' So, yes, I’ll be there tonight, and will give you a full report tomorrow. Tuesday at 7, Gallery 1988. The show runs till Christmas Eve. Sweet!

Ah, Christmas in Los Angeles. Nearly the same as spring in Los Angeles. During my first winter here, I had to break out a sweater and put up a Christmas tree to remind myself what month it was. If I were smart, I would have just gone to Santacon. I’ve always wanted to dress in red Santa Claus suit and wander around the city from bar to bar with several hundred other people dressed as Santa Claus as we got totally wasted. This weekend, I am already busy, but hopefully, you are penciling in the most famous get-drunk-dress-as-Santa Claus party known to man. Admittedly, we here in Los Angeles have it really easy. It might be 50 degrees at the coldest. But, armed with a ticket and a $5 all-day Metro pass, several hundred pranking Santas can cause quite a ruckus.