LA LA Land

LA is just as I left it. Stereotypes and all. Though I am a little disappointed to say I have not seen anyone famous yet, and it’s been three days! Let me take you through them.

I left Westhampton Saturday afternoon, sadly said goodbye to the blue house and my dogs, and hugged my mom tightly. For the first time I can remember, I was embarrassed that I was crying. For as much grief as my mother gives me, I love her. On Sunday morning, my father and I flew from Newark Airport to LAX. It was a treat to be able to sit in first class, although because we booked late, our seats were not together. Instead, I sat trapped in the window seat next to a man who resembled Richard Griffiths, aka Harry’s evil uncle in the Harry Potter movies. He slept most of the time so I couldn’t do anything (read: escape to the bathroom) but read and try to ignore the creepy way he kept running his thick tongue over the inside of his lips in his sleep. I soon found distraction in the in-flight movie, Drillbit Taylor. Not Owen Wilson’s finest. And what is it about the nerd pairing of one fat kid and one skinny awkward kid? I found out later that at the climax of the film, my dad’s audio went out, so I had to recap the (predictable) ending to him. Nonetheless, we arrived safely in LA, where I found myself immediately searching the crowds for famous faces.

After renting a car (an electric blue PT cruiser which I lovingly call Bloobs), I arrived at the place I’m staying temporarily (Pudding friend’s family) and managed to release the death grip I had on the steering wheel. Keep in mind, I haven’t driven in a long time and LA driving is terrifying. I much prefer the bumper to bumper traffic when at least I have time to think and figure out where I’m going. I’d be useless without m little GPS computer-lady. I unpacked the basics, and started emailing in an attempt to find a job. A hunt which is still ongoing. (I check craigslist about every hour.)

I’ve spent the last few days mostly driving around looking at areas/buildings in which I could live and going to the odd meeting with Harvard alums or people I met last year. I have a meeting in a few hours with a Harvardwood guy. I am not really allowed to get a place until I have a job, and I tend to think my mother hopes/thinks this is some kind of a phase I am going to get tired of and come back to the east coast. This is not helpful emotionally during those uncertain moments when I have doubts, myself. It’s been tough occasionally during these few days and I miss the hell out of you people. I'll admit I cried the first night, though I blame it mostly on the jet lag. I feel like I am in this weird kind of limbo and at times it scares me. But I want to prove I can do this. And I know I can.

In my “spare” time, I’ve hung out with the few people I know here. Some Harvard, some from the summer, the famous Jon Peter, etc. Went to the beach, walked around Santa Monica, ate some meals. I’ve been trying to eat/live as cheaply as possible so unless Dad (who is out here meeting with clients) takes me out, I generally eat either fast food, or microwaved soup (yum!). Or Jamba Juice.

As I write this, I am sitting outside Starbucks (not having purchased anything) and working on some writing. There is a guy in front of me who sat down, repeatedly pumped an inhaler into his lungs, and then proceeded to suck on a cigarette while he coughs his lungs out. I don’t appreciate the noise or the second hand smoke, but this is LA. Oh no, he’s just lit cigarette number two. I think this is a good time to use the restroom.

-MDubbs