Everything LA: Part I

A meeting of strangers, adversaries... future friends? Don't take my sand.

Two metal detecting treasure hunters. The one on the left has pulmonary fibrosis and he carries a tank of oxygen in his truck. And Alan, on the right, thought he found a ring of Cloris Leachman's one time, but when he put it online someone posted "Hey that's not a ring, that's a doorstopper." (I don't really see how you could confuse the two.) Still there's a part of him that wonders if it was hers since she was sitting where he found it earlier in the day.

Day Dos!! Tuesday. A new day! Ty met me at Santa Monica Beach for sandwiches in the sand. (He had to work for a few hours, so he dropped me off at the beach and went to teach. He's a Renaissance man of sorts: teacher, actor, caterer, mime, baker, among other things.) The we napped and walked the b'walk. Jesters lined up panhandling their tricks; snakes in suitcases - that can't be safe - with a $5 charge per picture; Whitney Houston crackstress singing Rhianna by the pelican in the sea.

A walk to Venice Beach followed with peace signs, pot and hats. The doctor was in, charging $250 for medical marijuana cards.

Stands lined the way.

After Danny's Deli & Bar (where we saw Andy Dick, apparently he's the kind of celebrity who seems to follow you around) we checked out a skate park where boards were flying across the walls in dips and falls.

A race in the sand followed by a "Hey! That guy looks just like Ty! Hey Ty!" from two of his friends, Lynn and Kalen and their pal, Brittany. Laughter and stories and tales of Asian glories. Apparently you never run into anyone you know in LA, but this was the first of three times this myth was shattered during my stay.

That night it was a buddy of Ty's bday, and to celebrate we were going roller skating!!! $10 for admission and rentals and organ music grinding all night!! Organ music and old guys. Backwards skating ruled the floor. Wigs and suspenders, party-goers all decked out, the man in the green was what it was all about.

Ty's neighbor, Nick, me and Ty

Me: "You're a great skater."
Him: "I love it and it's fun... thank you."

The key to a happy life.

I only fell once and it was more damaging to my pride than anything else.

There was a film crew there, who at first I thought was filming the seniors and their roller stories, following them to different rinks and getting their skating backgrounds. Then I thought maybe they were with the two Frenchies (man: geared and padded-up, bracing himself in fear of a fall. woman: tight jeans with racy slits and mid-riff flowing gray top, smiling and flirting with the old men), documenting their discovery of America through the rinks from LA to NYC - both which would've been awesome and I totally would've paid admission to see in theaters. In the end though, I think it was all a show for the bday boy, Matt.

I can listen in on conversations now - I can't help it! Reverse culture shock or sensory overload. We'll see how it goes.

At this cafe down the road from Ty's place, we were sitting outside, hunched over a crossword puzzle when we witnessed the end of an AA meeting. Alcohol holds no judgments over people, just like crazy, it isn't discriminatory.

Urth Yoga, also just down the street from Ty's house, has $5 yoga classes at 6:30a and 12:30p every day!! What a deal! And celebrities go there pretending to be average people! Olivia Thirby was there. And her hair was short. It was a good sweat-inducing class and while we were packed in like sardines, there was just enough room for fun.

Ty had work in the afternoon, so I sat and wrote in a park, and then we went to climb Culver City's Stairs. I loved all the hiking areas!! The 320-something stairs were unevenly spaced and weren't as easy to climb as we assumed them to be, but still FUN!!!

There was pho (I didn't eat it right when I was in Vietnam. I didn't know what to do and I don't think the restaurant I stopped in was too keen on having customers, let alone ones who didn't speak the language) at this place with "Escro" (missing "W) for a sign on Sunset, and it was as delicious as everyone raves about it being. Whoa!

                                                             Ty and his vermicelli                                                       My tasty pho

Everyone eats pho in LA. Pronounced either "ph" or "phO" - you choose. You'll be silently judged either way though most people will tell you it goes both ways.

Then there was The Dresden.

Marty and Elayne (the lounge singers in "Swingers") played while some other lady sang and the saxophonist had gas which was unfortunate for us, sitting behind him and all.

Ty's guy, Corby, Ty, me, Katie and her bf, Wes

Finished the night off at Tiki-Ti at 4427 Sunset. Interesting Tiki bar history there. A family operation. The grandfather came over from the Philippines in 1930 and worked at a number of tiki bars before opening Tiki-Ti in 1961. The place is full of Polynesian splendor, and if you have something to add, donations are always welcome (if it's small and fits the rest of the decor).

                                                                Wes and Katie at Tiki Ti.                                           Corby, me and Ty at Tiki Ti.     

That was Wednesday. On Thursday I hung out with my buddy and old Chicago roommate, Pat and then my friend Suzy's friend Adam picked me up and we ate at a place called the Vegan House (not too shabby) before blasting Lady Gaga's "Born This Way" down Sunset to Suzy's place over in Beverly Hills. Adam pointed out all Silver Lake's clubs that he loves to frequent.

Everyone is writing a screenplay. Everyone. Also, not an overstatement.

Everything LA: Part II

Friday found me back in Culver City, meeting my old camp counseling buddy, Josh, for lunch in the Sony lot. Fancy, right? He's doing well and is happy, so that was good to see. He also saw people he knew while we were walking around. #2. On the way back to Beverly Hills, there was a man - homeless, I presume - waiting for the bus with a rigged up roller suitcase contraption and cooler. He was wearing jean shorts, a Bahama shirt, straw hat, had an unfortunate strawberry blond dye job, facial hair, and wait for i t - ski goggles (yellow/orange-tinted) for sunglasses. If I wasn't convinced he was a murdering psychopath, I would've talked to him.

I walked around a lot that afternoon. All flat in Beverly Hills. I got blisters and talked to a Korean mail man for a minute. No Korean spoken, just him asking me how I liked it and him responding that the people love Americans. Good news for me. (He had seen me walking in one direction in the morning, for the bus stop, then again in another part of BH in the afternoon, so he was wondering why I was walking instead of driving and then I was wondering if he was Korean, so we chatted.)

Suzy, Katie (I love it when my friends become friends! Suzy is a good pal from college and I met Katie in Chicago through my friend, Ali) and I ate dinner at a delectable Mediterranean place with a yummy veggie spread and flowing wine - bless those BYOB places!

Afterward, we took a drive up Mulholland. Lights in LA and vomit-inducing (there wasn't any, but boy! those roads in the hills are curvy!) road, we wound our way up, up, up.

My buddy Steve came up from Dana Point on Saturday. Initially we were going to check out an urban farm in Silver Lake, but they don't give tours on Saturday, so we roamed the roads instead. La Brea Tar Pits and LACMA's Sculpture Garden, falafel sandwiches and then driving through hills and talking and laughing.

Sunday saw hiking in Runyon Canyon, In 'n Out Burger (grilled cheese!), Grauman's Theater, and Woody Allen's "Midnight in Paris" which if you haven't seen, you must! You must go at once! Run to your movie theater!! Elbow your way through the line. Don't spoil the movie for yourself by reading spoilers in reviews, just trust me and go. It's movie magic. Such a wonderful thing. Best thing I've seen on film in the theater in I don't know how long. GO!

Monday... I'm sure I did something... Ty and I went to a cafe and did a crossword puzzle, then we went to Runyon Canyon, got fish tacos (the salsa was great, but I wasn't a fan of the deep-frying-ness), headed over to Echo Park to check out 826LA's Future Store and Ty's going to start volunteering there, YAY!! -- You should volunteer there, too!! 826 is in LA, San Francisco, Seattle, CHICAGO!, DC, NYC, Boston, and Michigan.

On Tuesday, LACMA!!

Ty and I went to see the Tim Burton exhibit (GO THERE TOO!! If you find yourself in LA, of course) and exhausted ourselves wandering through the rest of the museum. Museums make me tired and thirsty, but I love 'em enough to keep going back. We also wandered around the Grove's Farmer's Market in between Tim and the rest, for falafel sandwiches(!!!) and there were two celebrities there. These tween girls were excited to take pictures with them. Ty thought they might've been in that Twilight nonsense or some teen drama on ABC Family.

La Brea Tar Pits for a quick walk-through on our way to find a cafe and crossword puzzle. Then we  found our way over to Beverly Hills to take Richard Simmons's class!!

He's still got it, that crazy ole fool!! $12 for an hour and a half long class. Sweaty. Back handed encouragement. "Maybe if you hadn't eaten that quarter pounder for lunch you could get your leg up higher!!" and "You're all a bunch of pansies! Weak, baby pansies!!" Those faces of his, and that energy! He was something else. He would shout about keeping correct form for push-ups, and then retract saying if you needed a modification to listen to your body.

The studio itself was non-descript on the outside, blending into the Beverly Hills background of strip mall doctors and spas. Inside was a completely different air with speakers blasting electro-synth workout music. A crowd registering late, myself and Ty included, was shouted at by Richard, "C'mon slowpokes! This whole class is waiting for you shits!" He was a lot more vulgar than I remembered from his bejeweled PBS show. (Note: he's still sporting his tiny diamond-encrusted tanks and rolled socks.)

The studio's walls were windows into the souls of the participants, or mirrors if you want to be simple. A banister ran along the front and side wall and the floors were buffed to realize the full potential of their lacquered shine. The lights were bright and a big exhaust fan was turned on 20 minutes into class which consisted of following manic Richard's flailing fun dance moves while attempting not to bash the person next to you. We were packed in that room like unitarded tunas in a net. Maybe considered a big room on most days, the night's full class found it cramped and trusting that your neighbor wouldn't crush your toes or punch your shoulder.

An hour of cardio and light stretching, complete with him taking me and Ty out for a spin around the room to YMCA! which he did for a few pairs, but we were up there the longest (he recognized Ty from another class and liked his jazz, so I think that's why we got special treatment). Then arms, chest and back with the weights; abs and push-ups. He ended with a special talk about loving with your whole heart and soul. Anything you do, put all of you into it.

That night I say "adios" to Suz and went to stay with Katie over in Hollywood.

Wednesday was full of more crossword fun, and gelato!!!! A park while Ty taught, and then we went to Griffith Park and checked out the Abandoned Zoo.

Real fun and super creepy. After the zoo portion, we hiked around some more and caught a glimpse of a coyote gnawing on the arm of a dead bum. (I'm just kidding, but we did see a coyote in the distance.) That night, Katie, her boyfriend Wes, and I went to eat Thai food and then Katie and I went to this bar called Birds, based on Hitchcock's "The Birds" and I was a little disappointed it wasn't more divey, but their 1/2 priced Happy Hour from 11-12 was quite alright with me.

I SAW A KID I HAD CLASSES WITH AT MIZZOU!!! #3 in the instances of seeing people you know!! We talked about professors and his mustache.

Part III (but fourth in the series)

On Thursday I walked around Hollywood. Stopping off in the Hollywood Forever Cemetery (they show films there every Saturday night... maybe only in the summer, or just in June... you look into it, I couldn't make it). 

They have peacocks patrolling the place. Squawking and honking their ways around the grounds. Regal, but eerie, especially their cries punctuating the chirps and tweets of the small brown birds.

There are some gaudy monuments around here. Lacquered black and reminiscent of a baby grand's shine.


How strange it would be to have a grave marked and waiting for you. C'mon Death? My bed's getting cold. The hours have slipped into years, and here I am, waiting still.


I bet Emily Dickinson had a waiting grave. She was probably terrified by it, too, and that's why it consumed her words as well as her soul.


I'm not a fan of this quote I see before me, "Blessed are the poor in spirit for they shall see God." Why only the poor? Why not the rich? Will they not be rewarded with His grace? Or is it just a case of context, or lack thereof?


I did, however, enjoy Joey Ramone's grave. A statue of him wailing on his guitar and a quote about measuring success in life with great friends, and then six quotes from famous friends sharing their love of the man.

Fay Wray? Made me think of this awful and stupidly poptastic song.

The portraits on the graves are unsettling. Onward to L. Hubbard Way and his church of Scientology. Bum bum bummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Yeah, I went to there.

Again, it was something else. All razzmatazz and jazz hands, but lacking in any actual information as to what the beliefs are. Where's the stuff about the space ships and paying to become a higher member? All "we're here to save the world from itself and drugs." and none of "Zor is the king and I will fly in the sky with him when I die." I left in frustration before I could ask any of the black pantsed, white shirted cult member how they got started and which way to the spaceship. Oy. That latter part wouldn't have been appropriate.

That evening, Katie, Wes and I went to Merkato, a tasty Ethiopian restaurant. 

Then Katie and I headed downtown to check out the Art Walk (something that goes on the second Thursday of the month). It was so crowded which wasn't the most fun to navigate through or find parking, but excellent for people watching. 

A bottle of wine and whispers in the living room, so as not to disturb her roomies, finished off the night.

Friday finished the trip with a walk down touristy Hollywood to Grauman's for a Penguin pic. Of course!

On the walk back to Katie's, an Italian couple mistook me for a local and asked me for directions. Surprisingly I did know the general direction that they were to go in, so I explained my truth and pointed them in the right way as best I could. Smiling at the thought of my apparent chameleon-ness as I walked away.
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Again, it was so lovely to see all my friends happy and healthy and doing things they wanted to do, but I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness, especially with my Chicago friends since living in LA will make it kind of hard for them to live in Chicago also. Life keeps moving even when you can't see it's progress first-hand. I suppose it's always going to be this way.

Being home has been strange in seeing that nothing has changed except for everything. Aging is a phenomenon I have yet to grasp. I'm reminded of meeting a gentleman at a Chicago Dramatist 2008 Holiday Party, he told me that no one knows what they're doing, they just get better at pretending the older they get. Hmmm. Food for thought.
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Thanks for all your hospitality and an amazing re-introduction to America, LAers. I missed some things the first go around, so I'm sure I'll be back.

Sling Shot

Second to last night on Guam my friends: Bobby, Lindsay, Priest and Sarah cajoled me into going on an adventure instead of packing. Best. choice. ever! We picked Syd and Court up on the second floor, traipsed across town and found ourselves in front of the Sling Shot. Why not?

Neither C nor I knew there was a video being taken, Priest and Sarah were wise to it, and luckily Bobby was unable to leave the cage. Enjoy? Yes!

Home-Home

I'm on my way. Well, not yet. This time tomorrow I'll be snug as a bug in a rug (which I don't understand that saying, and therefore shouldn't be writing it... but what was that whole deal with bed bugs sweeping the nation, starting in NYC? Gross, America. You're better than that.) or tossing and turning in my bed thinking, "Where am I?" Missouri. That's the answer. Though I feel like when I say it out loud it sounds like "misery." But it's really not that bad. Quite a beautiful state, actually. And even though it's in the thick of the Bible Belt, the people are pretty lovely from what I remember. My town's a sad place architecturally, with a ghostly downtown that was abandoned for blocked out strip malls close to the subdivisions.

Missouri. Saint Joseph. We started the Pony Express, killed Jesse James and birthed Eminem. Those are our claims to fame.

I'm not scared anymore now that I'm nearer to the time zone of my upbringing and back from the future. Anxious? Slightly, but mostly just curious as to what's going to happen next.

My mom and step-dad don't live in the house that I grew up in anymore. They live in a townhouse. It's nice and colorful and full of childhood memories misplaced. My mom hates it (retraction as of June 11, 2011: she doesn't hate it, it's spacious and colorful, she just isn't a fan of the "association" which sounds more like a cult to me, or another title for that 1995 made for TV movie starring John Ritter, The Colony where the members of said colony took out his dog's voice box because it barked. Period). She can't garden because the neighborhood has people who mow their lawn. My step-dad's happy because he has less to fix.

I hear it's hot in MO right now, and I can't wait. LA was much colder than I anticipated. After living in summer for over a year one doesn't adjust well to the mid 60s. Plus, I'm all green'd out and only turn on the shower when I'm rinsing - seriously, people, you don't need to take 20 minute showers, or even 10. Turn it on, turn it off, lather, rinse, repeat. (I digress.)

I'm really excited to go home-home. Cook and bake with my momma, chat with the ole step-daddio and get him to fix my computer, and go to concerts with the brosef.

Missouri. The Show Me State. I didn't intend to let it, but it's followed me everywhere I've been. "You say Korea is green and forested? Oh, yeah? Show me."/"The Great Wall of China is steep and the food there is greasier than at home? Prove it."/"Everyone drives everywhere in LA and most people are incredibly self-centered? People are lazy and egotistical everywhere, but put your money where your mouth is."

I'm going to be that 25 - soon to be 26 - year-old living in her parents' basement, like I never wanted to happen. Things are coming beyond that. I hope, I hope. Friends' couches await me in Chi City. It's so pretty there in the summertime.

I didn't get that writing job in Chicago and I think it's for the best. I haven't heard the best things about the company, and I'm not sure what I even want to do - professionally, aside from writing - at this point in time. Office jobs and the daily grind don't seem too appealing to me at this juncture in my life, but we'll see. Only time will tell, but until then I'm going to do my best to keep an open mind and an open heart to opportunities I might not have otherwise considered.

As always, one thing remains the same:

PS- my awesome buddy, Ty and I went to a Richard Simmons' class on Tuesday and he ended everything with a message on loving - or doing anything, really - with your whole heart and soul. That has nothing to do with anything I wrote about tonight, but it just popped into my head and so I wanted to share. LA pictures and stories to come - boy oh boy, was it ever fun!!

PPS - Penguin to the Grauman's Chinese Theater tomorrow before my flight!!!