Enjoy This Blog

If someone had articulated these things to me about L.A. when I arrived from NY, adjusting would've been a whole lot easier. That's what I thought when I started this blog.
So, scroll to any topic to understand why you just had a meltdown, be able to articulate the process of dating to your friends back home, or commiserate about anything - since you'll notice people here don't commiserate, which is one of the best ways we east coasters know to feel connected.
ps. I'll be adding to it, but I'll keep this entry on top.
pps. Clearly, adding to it = still not adjusted.

Tool Example

It was 10pm Friday night and there was a guy in a convertible driving with his blinding brights on because he was wearing sunglasses.

Celebrity Spotting

Earlier, I wrote about how the only celebrity I spot is Abe Vigoda. But this weekend a friend came to town with a keen eye for star-gazing. What I love most are the combinations of who she pointed out - (not sitting together, but at the same restaurant). Breakfast: Gabrielle Reece & Laird Hamilton, Michael Rappaport, and Shirley Maclaine. Lunch: Gordon Ramsey, Omar Epps, and Tina Louise.

Honking

Okay. I want to be calm about this so I will make it into a list.
1. Why the f* don't people honk here?
2. It is the very place where honking is needed.
3. The car horn has been a feature of the car since their invention and in fact went "achooga!".
4. Now they are less annoying, especially the way I honk with the length of "toot."
5. Often, LA drivers don't signal, text while driving, go retardedly slow,
6. and take a long and maddening beat before going when the light has turned green.
7. The beat is not necessary if you are paying attention and want to go like I do.
8. How is it possible that if someone pulls a dumb move and I respond with a honk they get mad?
9. I took down an essay about a former teen actor who got out of his car and called me a 'scumbag' for honking because then he wrote a mean comment.
10. My friend said he must have done "google alert" and knew when his name came up.
11. I stopped honking after that but then kept in my driving frustrations which created road rage.
12. Road rage is not good so I tried programming all my preset stations with lite music.
13. After I felt like I was in the supermarket all the time I went back to hip-hop.
14. In New York we honk but don't hold in hostility. In LA, the opposite occurs.
15. I'm thinking this is true, not only in our cars.

?!

If you want to feel what it's like to go insane, try to park on San Vicente and Wilshire.

Next chapter?

In May I began my next chapter in L.A. For one, I stopped being mad at it. Not on purpose, either. It just happened. Maybe because I realized I'd found my voice in all this, was able to embrace my New Yorkness (a.k.a. wear black again), had some good jobs that validated the work I've put in, got over a broken heart or two, and recently had a weekend that included a sail in the Marina, a party in the 'Hills', a visit to the Observatory, and the premiere of the new Woody Allen movie. And I have to say, in all that, there were some good people and not a tool in sight.
I still want to be bi-coastal.

Douchebaggery, Tool, and Flake

I didn't know these words before L.A. The definition of Douchebaggery and Tool: you'll know when you meet enough of them. Flake: (see essay below).

I think I've covered everything.

Art Museum

If you like art check out the completely redone LACMA. I'm impressed. (In the modern art building, the Jeff Koons exhibit includes the huge balloon animal dog sculpture.)

How to Know if You'll Love It

You will love L.A. if you're the kind of person who enjoys possessing no less than eleven Bed Bath & Beyond coupons at one time, believes that dogs should never be on a leash, craves an opportunity to wear a Hawaiian shirt, and is exceedingly patient with everything, everywhere, at all times.
As for the rest of you, upon returning from an NYC trip stop by any restaurant on Culver Blvd. in Culver City for a surprisingly vibrant New York-y atmosphere.

Character (while visiting NY)

There was a woman who thought someone knocked over a hot dog cart when really it was a sketch for David Letterman. There was a guy at the purposely yellow-lit Moma exhibit who said, "Everyone's monochromatic. I don't know how to set my camera." There was a man in the park bellowing like a pirate, teaching his Parks Department co-worker how to put on his uniform -- and the trainee was alternately nervewracked and laughing. These are the real characters, here in NY, that we then go and portray in L.A.

In Town

The Pope and I were both in NY today. Guess which one of us went to Trish for a haircut?

Inspirational Quotes?

Don't believe the hype - Public Enemy
Dig all jive - Langston Hughes
Delete is the new closure - NYer in LA

Sudden Crosswalks

Where in NY pedestrians and drivers seem to have a symbiotic relationship, LA peds have an unusual amount of right-of-way-entitlement and sometimes even cross while texting. So beware of Sudden Crosswalks where in the middle of a busy street, without warning, someone will just start crossing causing everyone to come to a near accident. I have no advice for this except have good peripheral vision as well as tuned brakes, get used to where these crosswalks are, and try not to get distracted by those seizure causing electronic billboards advertising shows and movies most of us don't need to know about anyway because we work here. Today I realized that my enjoyment of LA is directly proportional to parking.

Brand New?

Some general sites to get you started: Apartment = westsiderentals.com. Cars (used) = autotrader.com. Health insurance = ehealthinsurance.com. Car insurance = insurance.com. Sublets and furniture = craigslist.org. Rental car = priceline.com.

Asking For Help

If you've read the "Energy" and "Identity Bootcamp" essays below it will help explain what I'm about to explain. My friend came to LA and met with his friend to ask for career help. He was completely frustrated because the guy didn't do for him what he felt was enough. It made me think about career-help in L.A. I don't mean reading a script and giving notes which is certainly a favor, I mean a consistent mentor; people who nudge you forward before the meltdowns. It's possible I'm sure, but not frequent. Maybe this can help you understand and therefore navigate who and how to ask while keeping your angst at bay and self-esteem in tact. 1) Know that it takes 100% of human being energy to maintain a single career in LA. 2) With none of that NY-style energy coming in, any extra energy gets depleted during traffic. 3) Career-wise few have the capability, energy, or time to be relied on because that means they'll have to look out for someone in the future and no one in L.A. wants to be responsible for another life. Unless they're getting paid. A lot. Seriously. 4) It's much easier for people to connect people than to help them. 5) The more specific you are, the easier it is for someone to follow through. What do you want to be connected with? 6) On the other hand if you're lost and need general career advice take someone to lunch who is not jaded or doing worse than you are. 7) Figure that everyone you talk to, no matter how successful, is trying to keep themselves afloat on some level. An approximate Favor Scale: In general, 1-3 per person. If they also have a family, zero-1. And even though it seems people are more comfortable connecting those who have been through it in L.A, worked to earn it, and know the nuances of what it takes, this is in no way to say that you shouldn't ask for help. Of course you should. You have to. Putting it out there is key. But know the whole thing gets easier when you build a reputation, get some experience under your belt, and ironically (?) don't need as much.

Movie Theaters

In NY there's the Film Forum, the Angelika, and then there's everything else. In L.A. each movie theater seems to have a personality, its loyal patrons, and are referred to by their name. It took time for me to wrap my head around people arguing which theater was best (as opposed to just going to the "ten plex") so, here's the basic round up: Laemmle theaters, including Sunset 5, and Regency are art-house/indie. The Egyptian, the Arclight, and the theater at the Grove are cushy seats and legroom, but can be extra-expensive like Mann's Chinese. Regency theaters have great prices because they show films after they've been out but they also have groovy retro and midnight screenings. If you're not already union-ized, friends in the business might invite you to a screening at the DGA or WGA, and believe it or not you can still see the Rocky Horror Picture Show at the NuArt described as a "militantly independent" theater. The Orpheum downtown has a great screening series, I'm still not sure what goes on at The Silent Movie Theater, and the Cemetery Screenings are held during the summer. The only thing spooky about that is they got so popular you have to go super early, wait on line, and may not get in. It's pretty much as if they showed film noir in Bryant Park. Against a mausoleum.
ps. I have to recommend Gallery 1988. Great art opening, fun show full of twisted nostalgia. Look for: "Sara Finds an Arm" and "Hungry Hungry". Also, "Praying With Lior", a moving documentary, opened Friday.
*I have since gotten to know the Silent Movie Theater and they show everything but. It's the coolest random selection of any art house I know of. They get irony. Get on their email list to become privy to things like the Maysles fest that showed Grey Gardens, or the night of Animation-shorts-before-there-were-censors.

Social Life II

In NY I had a vow that I would never not go to something because of the weather. In L.A. my vow was: I would never not go to something because of driving. Another key to the initiation of my L.A. social life (See "Social Life" essay below) was that one of the few people I knew upon arrival was a stand-up comic. See, comedians, one-man-show actors, and bands want you to come to their shows so right away there was lots to do. About a year or two in, I remember one night I couldn't go to another show ever and became far more discriminating about what I'll drive for. But until then, if you're friendless and looking to jump start your social life... Comedy-wise check out local spots -- rather than tourist-y ones that charge a big cover and drink minimums. UCB Theater can be cool (in fact check out the bars on that block after - they're friendly.) Comedy Central Space (check out "Guys with Feelings" live - I could watch their 'How Does Oprah Introduce' bit forever), The Tomorrow Show, the Fake Gallery, M Bar. Music-wise, I like Hotel Cafe the best. Molly Malone's, The Mint, Tangier, and The Roxy have been cool. Literary-wise there are readings like Sit-n'-Spin and book signings by celebs at Book Soup and the Grove's Barnes & Noble all the time. Culture-wise you can easily put yourself on email lists (lacma, hammer, moca, museum of film & television, town hall/writers bloc) and watch the events fill your in-box. If you arrive with a significant other or have made a friend cool enough to be a wingman you might be interested in checking out what's trendy in restaurants, clubs, bars etc. at Metromix.com. It's fairly new and a great resource that makes everything in L.A. seem amazing.

Relaxation

When it comes to traffic + time in L.A. my friend had some great insights. 1. When you don't need to get somewhere on time it'll be the only time traffic doesn't make you late. 2. For some reason whoever lives the closest arrives the latest. 3. If you're on your way to do something relaxing traffic will stress you out twice as much so you'll come out of your relaxing activity fairly neutral. So. While we're at it, some relaxing things to do: Tea at Dr. Teas - the zen garden in the back. The beach, of course. (Bring quarters and singles so you won't get stressed parking.) Voda Spa (note: you can use the spa without a service for $50). Sunset Foot Spa (amazingly inexpensive). For meditation: introtomeditation.com.

Volunteering

If you're hankering to give back - or at least spend time with people in a context other than 'the business' - here are some volunteer things I've done that I'd recommend: L.A. Works (laworks.com) has a bunch of different things to choose from. Through that, I've played basketball with teenagers at a teen shelter and done gardening-clean up with kids at a school. Challengers Boys & Girls Club (cbgcla.org) is a very inspiring place to be. Young Storytellers (.com) has mentor writers work with kids one-on-one. My friends have liked working with Habitat for Humanity, Project Angel Food, Meals on Wheels, Big Brothers Big Sisters, and the literacy program through the Public Library where you can teach someone to read.

Art

The other night I saw a friend's documentary at the MOCA called The Cool School about the development of the art scene in L.A. It inspired me to see more documentaries and more art and gave me an appreciation for the fact that L.A. is a relatively new place. On one hand I miss that history that is palpable in New York, the one where other people, great thinkers, have been there before and have got your back. On the other hand it made me realize that scenes here in L.A., perhaps other than art, have yet to be started. Art spots that I've been to and would recommend: Morrison Hotel Gallery, The MOCA (moca.org), The Getty Center (for the gardens), The Hammer Museum (if there's a cool exhibit), Gagosian Gallery, The art walk downtown (dowtownartwalk.com), and keep in mind that some galleries have groovy openings complete with plastic cups of wine. To find local galleries in your area check out art-collecting.com/galleries_ca_losangeles.htm.

L.A. Relationships

It's interesting how many times I've heard men and women give each other this advice: "If you want to find a real relationship you need to move out of L.A." Why would that be, I wonder? Especially since most people in L.A. aren't even from here and it's full of interesting, ambitious people who are even lonelier than New Yorkers. Last night some men brought that up so we considered some reasons it can be so cuckoo here. Here were my favorites: 1. Career priority (and the inability to incorporate an additional priority.) 2. Because people are constantly arriving to and leaving town, the mistaken entitlement that rather than work through a problem it's preferable to just blend into the ether. 3. The dream of eternal youth.

Chores

I was telling a friend the chore I hate the most is cleaning my tub. She said, "Oh that one I don't mind because the maid does it." No matter what economic class or amount of square footage lived in, most people in L.A. have a housekeeper. And of those who have a house rather than an apartment, 98% have a gardener. Come to think of it, no one I know rakes their own leaves (there are few leaves), shovels their own snow (there is no snow), or mows their own lawn. In fact, if you don't have a driveway I heard you're actually not allowed to wash your own car. During the summer, timers turn on sprinklers that are poorly aimed and spray across the sidewalks. It's all just part of the culture in the same way that NYers are big on delivery. Groceries, laundry, and frequently, dinner. Even when the place is right downstairs.

Events

When it comes to holding events I expected that L.A.ers would be the perfectionists New Yorkers are considering how many events are held here. So when I first got to L.A. and was connected to a party so big and A-List that I had to send a resume to get in, I did what I had to do. In fact, my guest also had to be approved. Emails went back and forth and finally I was granted an invitation. My friend and I arrived to a studio lot to find that the party was to promote buffalo meat and about twenty people were in attendance. I was eating a strawberry (I'm vegetarian and that was the only other option..?) when the host came over and said to us discreetly, "Ladies, see that man over there?" We did. "You should meet him. He's the vice president. Of Transportation." When we left she made sure we got a gift bag that included an airplane sized bottle of scotch, a CD of the celtic band that they couldn't find when it was time to perform, and a squeezy toy buffalo. But that was nothing compared to an awards show I went to that was honoring women in media and was so disorganized that people randomly didn't show up for awards on stage, the wrong winner was often announced for the wrong category, Kevin James won for something, and Katie Holmes accepted an award for Helen Mirren. Host Harry Sheerer did an outstanding job holding it together and ended the evening saying, "And if you want to know how these awards were selected, I'm as curious as you are."

Brunch

Weekend brunch is practically mandatory in New York. On Amsterdam the bars from the night before close just before sunrise and the restaurants in between them open around 10 or 11. Once a friend and I went to this new place around 9 am (so early because it was a holiday and we were meeting up before seeing family). The hostess told us to come back because the chef was still sleeping and hadn't gotten there yet. So yesterday in L.A. when friends invited me to Runyon before 10am it was shocking to me how many people were there hiking and awake already. Believe it or not, out here people even have breakfast meetings. I don't think that would even occur to a New Yorker. In fact, when I first arrived in L.A. I worked with a woman briefly who was leaving town in a couple of days and we were trying to figure out a plan to meet. She offered up breakfast the next day. I was so taken off guard by the idea of 'breakfast + meeting' I was speechless. She got offended and said, "You look so shocked. Never mind," got in her car and drove away. I was honestly confused by the concept of being professional that early let alone eating something called breakfast, a thing that to a New Yorker occurs only on weekdays, in our apartments, before rushing to work. Or, if there's no time until getting into work, it's called "Going-downstairs-to-get-something-to-eat."

Elections

Besides the fact that an action film star is really the Governor, the other odd thing about politics in L.A. is that every election includes a vote regarding Native Americans and gaming and I still don't understand what's going on. I want to know so I can help out Native Americans but the TV ads about it sound like this to me: in one a Native American man and a Nurse will say, "Vote no." In another, a Native American woman and a Fireman will say, "Vote Yes." Then a third will say, "The other side is putting out deceptive ads." Who's what side of what for who? Is this the gaming part?

The Rope, The List, and The Line

I got an evite to a friend's birthday party and after passing the Celebrity Scientology Center three times looking for parking, I finally arrived at a club on Hollywood. Since I was on the list, I announced the host's name to the bouncers at the door. Alas, I was still directed to the end of a long line. Little did my friend know there'd be four other birthdays with four other lists. And weirdly, the other people waiting looked like what in New York we refer to as Bridge & Tunnel. I'm not sure what they're called in L.A. but the girls wear gold tube tops and the boys wear smelly cologne. You know exactly who I'm talking about. When I wait on these lines (and I'll do it because I want to show up for the host, and besides it already took me 45 minutes to park) the first five minutes I have no problem. Then it wears off, the injustice sinks in, and I spiral into New Yorker intolerant. If I'm with a group of friends, inevitably someone will say, "Oh no. I don't wait on lines" and they'll nominate someone to go get the bouncers to give us special treatment. Of course every group is trying to do this. I know people who have waited on these lines and never even gotten in, people who are made to wait at events they already bought tickets for, and people who are made to wait just to make the place look good. More often than not you'll notice this is the case because once you finally get inside you'll see how empty it is. Emotionally.

Cool Photography Exhibit

It happened. I happened upon art. Just walking by, I stopped into a very cool photography exhibit of the Rolling Stones called "Let It Bleed" at the Morrison Hotel Gallery on Sunset. Cool and New Yorky. (Probably because there's also an east coast version of the gallery on Prince Street?) If you check out the "cast of characters" photos when you first walk in you'll wonder how these people weren't cast as their entourage. It's up until tomorrow, Sunday 1/27. If you can't catch it, some of the photos will continue on at their regular gallery a few doors down.

Heat Lamps

L.A. might not have any coat checks but it's big on heat lamps. In fact, at one party I was at the valet stand and a drunk girl said, "Um, I'm not sure if you want to know but... your coat is melting." She was right. The heat from a low-standing heater was in the process of bubbling through the elbow of my jacket. It's also frequent at a party that I'll be in conversation with someone under a tall heat lamp and they'll say "Do you mind if we move? The top of my head is burning."

Evening Commuting

People not going exactly when the light turns green is maddening. People not signaling when they cut in front of you can lead to insanity. But here's something great to do for the next two weeks if you're commuting: 5-7pm Listen to 1150 am KTLK. It's "The World According to Frangela". These two newsy radio hosts are so smart and unbelievably funny. They're usually on Saturday 11-1. And you know what? Listen then too because even though it's a Saturday, it's L.A., and it's likely you might not have gotten home from your commute yet.

Paparazzi

Whether it was on line at a corner grocery with Keanu Reeves, on a corner with John Lithgow, or in a bar with Bono (he was in the middle of a v-shaped booth - all night my friend thought she was quoting Dirty Dancing when she said, "no one puts Bono in the corner!") I always had the feeling in New York that we like to give celebrities their privacy. For one, walking culture and no studio system makes for less forced glamour and more equality. This is why I still can't grasp the whole Paparazzi thing. I mean, I get it in a business sense but it is just so odd to see Paparazzi in L.A. waiting outside of stores and restaurants or jumping out of hummers. It's a level of 'surface' that's so simple, it's difficult to comprehend. If you want to paparazzi the paparazzi check out Robertson or read TMZ to see whatever hottest club they're hanging outside of. But I realize this difference is why I think I never see celebrities in L.A. I seem to think they're regular people. In fact, the other night at a classy bar this guy and I were kind of checking each other out. I thought he was sort of cute but I left so I wouldn't be late to a party. Later I found out it was Colin Farrell. Last week it took me till the end of the night to be made aware that I was feet from an 80's soap-opera crush. When I first moved out here I was friends with this guy for months and commiserating about dating and relationships with him before a friend said, "Isn't that the 'Bagel Boy' who went out with Cher?"

Being Single in L.A.

There is a time in every person's life when bad dates go from "good story" to "panic stricken reality". Being single in L.A. really is it's own unique experience. See, in New York, even when there were no relationships on the horizon there was a constant sense of romantic possibility. It arose just from walking out of my building to the energy of the street -- who knows who I might walk by or run into? Eye contact with a man in a suit felt like a two-second affair, enough to start an entirely new imaginary crush or at least the reminder that that feeling exists. In L.A. a sense of romantic possibility is so self-generated and I seem to have run out of fantasies. Not to mention I'm having a really hard time meeting someone special in my car. Jon Robin Baitz wrote a piece for Huff Po a couple of days ago "Leaving Los Angeles: Part 2 (Love)". In it he says, "LA is the world capital of loneliness. In the age of isolation, this is a very special achievement. I could not crack it. I could only survive it."

Hills

The first time I parked on one of those steep hills in Silverlake I thought "What in the world do they do when it snows?" Then I remembered it doesn't snow. But getting used to hills in L.A. is especially odd after mastering the pavement of NYC. In fact, if you're hiking Runyon and you get to that area where the hill is steep, the pebbles make things slippery, and the built in wooden steps don't seem to help much... don't feel stupid, remember as New Yorker you might have cornered the market on walking but when is the last time you've gone up or down a hill? It took me four years, a good pair of running shoes, and a "hey where they going?" curiosity to get over my fear and try that part. Thanks to old yoga training I remembered to put the weight in my thighs and butt to compensate for the downward angle. And when I saw the girl in front of me having an even harder time (and she was on a date!) I realized it was okay to take it slow - after all I'd never navigated this specific hill before either. While I was thinking "Yeah, I don't need to do this again" some people were running down with confidence, one guy though was going down sitting. Good for him. He was really putting the weight in his butt.

Cab Driver

One Saturday morning in New York I got myself out of bed early to see my friend's first pottery show. I was walking in Tribeca, a man to my side met my pace, and said enticingly, "Hola mama." And as if he were simply being unreasonable and we both knew it, I said, "It's too early." Still, safety is always on a woman's mind which is why there were three girls waiting for cabs tonight when I walked outside to go home, in fact one girl had been waiting forty-five minutes. (To be honest, I was so willing to walk but my friends insisted I grab a cab.) It felt great as a New Yorker in L.A. to step out and in the next thirty seconds flag cabs down for her, for the other girls, and one for myself. Two guys told me they were going to Santa Monica. I told them they'd have no problem getting the next one. The taxi driver started our ride with some good ol' cabbie conversation. Would we talk philosophy of love like so many NYC cabbies liked to do? Would he give me advice on being "foxy"? Would he tell me how to cook rice? He asked where those other guys were going. I said, "Santa Monica". Irritated, he said, "You're this close and they're going to Santa Monica?!" I said, "Yeah." He said, "What 'YEAH.' " Was he angry at my proximity? I told him there were lots of people there and he could go back and get another fare in a minute. He said, "Yeah right. You should have walked." Now, there are two people in the world I don't want to piss off: my haircutter (they've got the scissors) and my cab driver. Not only is the cab driver at the controls but they know where ya' live. Plus, how absurd is it to even engage in a conversation about why it's safer to take a cab when he's the one who does it for a living? When he handed me back the change he huffed, "Oh just take it! And next time, walk." Aww, he just sounds like an angry New Yorker.

#1 FAQ

Q. Is dating harder in L.A.?
A. Yes.
I bet you'd like more of an explanation.
That's the ironic explanation.

Public Transpo

Yes, last night I actually was at the intersection where Montana Avenue meets Montana Avenue. This is not only irresponsible of the city planner, it's just one example of how driving in L.A. has not gotten any less stressful for me. So, this morning I woke up determined to try public transportation. I don't know when -- and right now this idea is only in my mind since enough people have looked at me in disgust when I've mentioned it in the past -- but I have to figure out how to lower my stress level and why the bus system here is so frowned upon. The last time I was close to taking the bus my car was in the shop and a co-worker and I planned it as an adventure to make it less painful. With a video camera, she would follow my journey on the bus to work in the morning and I would post it on this site. There were complex details to work out like the fact that she wanted her car so she could have it at the end of the day. We planned for her to drive over to my house and tail the bus all the way to work. Then it dawned on us. She said, "Wait. Why don't I just give you a ride?"

Christmas Time

It is silly enough to be driving on a sunny, mild day and hear the song "Let it Snow" on the radio. It is sillier yet to see a lemon tree in full bloom draped in Christmas lights.

New York-y Things in L.A.

Why is it that when we're on vacation we let loose and when we're back home we do laundry? You know what I mean - away from our usual state gets us out of our usual state-of-mind but upon returning home it's only days before we're back into our old routine. Well, this trip to NY was so inspiring I promised myself I'd do things differently when I returned to L.A. So far it's working. I discovered a bar called The Foundry on Melrose and one called La Poubelle on Franklin both which have a New York-y vibe. I checked out The Hollywood Farmers' Market on Ivar which was reminiscent of a street fair on Amsterdam. A friend and I went to La Campanile's grilled cheese night. This is not to say that driving and parking hasn't continued to make me crazy, but this time when I was losing my sh*t at the post office because the line was crazy long and someone was filling their forms out at the window (which would never happen in NY - see "Errands" essay below) - and because the woman on my left looked at me blankly refusing to commiserate, I turned to my right where I found another east coaster commiserating with someone to her right. Hallelujah. People connecting.

Thanksgiving II

I was sitting in the bleachers at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and in front of me was a girl yelling "wooo!" to each float or balloon that passed. In front of her a woman turned around and said, "Could you not 'Wooo'?!" So the girl pointed and said, "It's a parade." The woman turned forward and then turned back around again suggesting, "So, you can clap." And she clapped as an example. She turned back towards the parade. Then, apparently with another idea, she turned back to the girl and said, "Or how about..." and with silence, but serious enthusiastic emphasis, she stuck her two thumbs up.

Thanksgiving

Highlights from an NYC Thanksgiving trip: Men in suits ride buses, I still stand at the corner waiting for the light to change, and I was out till 4 am last night, it was so much fun. Interestingly, come to think of it, I was hanging out with friends I know from L.A.

Dating

I thought the only car related adjustment I'd have to make in LA would be getting used to traffic. Then I found out how much cars effect dating. First off: Getting Asked Out. In NY a man vaguely says "we should hang out" making it easy to play by ear and figure out afterwards whether it was a date. In LA a man asks concretely "I'd like to take you out". He has to. There are arrangements like: will he pick you up or will you both drive and meet there? (To a city girl it is the strangest decision whether to give a virtual stranger her address and get in the car with him -- or meet there with her car, making the date as unsexy as a business meeting.) Second, there's The Date. In NY a date is As-You-Go. If you want to spend more time together just walk next door to another bar, a corner diner, or just take a walk. In LA any movement after location 1 requires directions and parking. If you took two cars, that time driving solo with your cell phone and your thoughts is as sobering as Last Call. On the other hand, if he drove and you decide to take advantage of the fact that you're not driving and can drink, don't guzzle enough for the both of you. Otherwise, the next morning you'll realize how awkward that was - for him. Lastly, there's The Goodnight Kiss. In NY drinks have been drunk so everyone looks better and a kiss is likely for fun if nothing else. It can happen at the cab, in the cab, at your building front door, in the vestibule, at your apartment door, or inside your apartment. That's five levels of spontaneity. In LA there are seatbelts. There's the middle divider. And guaranteed there will be a mention of high school. Not to mention that it's very awkwardly up to the passenger to turn towards, or get out. If you've (unfortunately) discussed and decided that he come up to your place, there's parking spots, signs, and permits to deal with. So please note: If you decide to go upstairs and you live on a block that does require a city permit to park and you have to get the tag from your apartment to display in his windshield you must get it back before he leaves. Even if it means running down after him after an already awkward goodbye. Because when it comes to cars and dating in LA, it's the permit tag that you'll realize you have to see again.

Fireworks on November 18th?

I don't think it's unreasonable to say that during a time of war, in a state that has earthquakes, in a town that's already on edge because of an industry strike, weeks after the fires, I just don't think it's unreasonable to say: hold off on the fireworks displays, people. See, unless a person has purposely gone to view them, if it's not July 4th, the finale sounds kind of like... how do I describe it? Explosions. I had to remind myself that it wasn't a thunderstorm either, since there aren't even thunderstorms in L.A. Reluctantly, the search continued. Finally, I found the answer from my back window. Pink, orange, and ridiculously sparkly.

Highway Signs

In NY and NJ the highways are easily definable: Route 4, Route 17, Route 80. In L.A. it's The 101, The 110, and The 10. Unnecessary with the binary code, don't you think? Tonight I drove up to Northridge via The 101 North. Now, occasionally this is also called the 101 West. So you could be facing two signs at the same time to the same entrance with different names. I went to Northridge to pick up a coffee table I found on Craig's List. On the drive up I ate a couple of yesterday's matzoballs (!) and remembered how once when I was in a long relationship I was talking to a friend about how I was feeling antsy in it. He said, "You want to sew your wild oats." That was a good way to put it. At the time though I didn't know how to tell my boyfriend. So, the next time we were in the car and I was finding it impossible to bring up, silently I asked for help. I thought, "God, if we should break up, just give me a sign" and as we turned the corner there was a big ass sign on a market called "Wild Oats". That's when I turned a corner and said, "I think we should see other people". This is also why on the way home, (Ikea coffee table disassembled in the backseat), I had this thought: "God, just let me know I'm going to meet someone soon. I don't need details, just a sign that it will happen. How about: at some point." Minutes later, I'd forgotten my silent sort-of-prayer and turned on the radio. First there was Rob Thomas: "I don't wanna feel lonely no more..." Hmm. I pressed one of the other preset stations where Santana sang matter-of-factly, "Ain't got nobody... that I can depend on." Wait a second. Seeing the absurdity in this I clicked another preset station just to see what I would get. It was Desperado. Now, I just looked up the definition of "Desperado" and I am relieved to say that it means "a criminal, especially in the early settlement of the western U.S.", not a derivative of "Desperate" which bothered me all the way down the 101. I think it was the 101.

SAG and the Strike

Three unusual things happened from a NYer in L.A. perspective today: 1. While picketing I was concerned about getting a sunburn. It's a week from Thanksgiving. 2. Actors came out to support the strike today which meant some folks from The Office creating a band and calling themselves "The Scrantoons". Awesome. 3. I made matzo balls. I don't know why but it seems I am starting to cook. Matzo balls?
If you want some info about the strike from the writers' perspective check out the videos "why we fight" and "voices of uncertainty" on www.unitedhollywood.com.

Energy

Last night a friend considering moving to NY asked what the biggest difference is between NY and L.A. Besides not being able to have a drink while we discussed this because I was driving, I told her about my biggest basic struggle which has also been my biggest basic growth spurt. In NY the energy is reciprocal. There's stimulation everywhere: in the architecture, the close proximity to other people, the sound of the subway, the smell of those roasted nut carts. It goes out, it comes in. In L.A. on the other hand, I feel like I wake up with a certain tank of energy, and during the day I either make the effort to fill it up or use it until it's depleted. It's certainly made me selective about how I spend my time and who with, but it also explains why people don't seem to have extra energy for spontaneity or to help each other out so much. For me, career-wise it's more exciting in L.A., life-wise, it's more exciting in NY.

Magnolia vs. Sprinkles

I just discovered Sprinkles wins on the cupcakes. But Magnolia has banana pudding. Sprinkles has Beverly Hills and twenty minute meters. Magnolia has cobblestone streets. Hmm... and yum.

The Writers' Strike

Today is the first day of the strike. The community discussion of it in L.A. is like NY in a snowstorm and I'm likin' it. Now is the time to figure this out, as new media is booming, because things weren't figured out properly years ago when cable boomed and over time it created an imbalance where corporations (networks/producers) profit unfairly. As an example, many shows originated on cable can be rerun endlessly without paying residuals but since advertisers still pay regardless of whether it's a repeat, there is a profit every commercial break. Since new media is a relatively new medium this is when something fair can -- and should -- be established. I'm not liking that it had to come to this and both parties couldn't figure out how to be sensible about it but at least the car honking of supporters made me feel closer to New York.

Earthquake Proofing

I have two Ikea bookcases and finally decided to earthquake proof which means attaching them to the wall with the little piece of material included in the bags that I've saved. This task has been overwhelming because 1) with it comes thoughts on NY vs. L.A. of course, 2) thoughts on the fact that I don't have a boyfriend, and 3) according to the "instructions", I have to go buy the screws which apparently differs for every individual -- I have no idea why.
So, just now I finally found a local hardware store, went in and explained everything to the man behind the counter. He was also so confused he called over the manager. ... Nope. He called over the mentally disabled worker. I followed this guy over to the screw section suddenly being extra nice because I'm sure I've seen his kind of retarded-guy-makes-good story in a movie.
Shaking his head he said, "You should have a friend who can help you with this. You should have someone who can give you two screws." And as if I was a total loser he added, "It's standard." I asked, "To have screws? Or to have someone who can give me screws?" He looked at the array of screw choices and said, "I don't know what to tell you." I asked, "Do you mean you can't tell what would be strong enough?" I showed him the instructions and handed him the piece of material that came in the bag. He tugged at it while he looked away profoundly. "They fall for it every time. They fall for it EVERY time." Me: "They fall for what every time? What did I fall for?" Him: "How many pounds is it?" Me: "I don't know." Him: "With the books in it. How many pounds is it?" Me: "My bookshelf? I don't know. I never weighed it." Him: "Have you ever carried books?" "Yes." "Well, how much did they weigh??" Me: "I don't know." Now I was getting annoyed too and we were at a stand off.
Him: "How much does a book weigh?"
Me: "I don't know."
Him: "How much does a fish weigh?!"
Me: "I don't know!"
Him: "How much does a one pound cake weigh?!"
Me: "ONE POUND!"
He laughed. Good play. I think I just won the game.
...?
As for the screws, I left without any, have no idea what anything weighs, am reevaluating my relationships wondering who in my life has two screws... but as I look at my bookcase I'm taking comfort in the fact that if it were to fall the books don't look that heavy anyway so, well, I'm not totally screwed.

Fall Foliage?

No fall foliage. But there's some plant in L.A. that blooms this time of year that smells like ejaculate. There. I said it.

The Fires

I'm relatively far from the fires except for noticing haze and heat, an orange tone to the moon, and of course having empathy for those effected. I'm glad that emergency services are working properly, evacuating people, and I'm glad that fire departments aren't privatized so they have the resources and can work until the winds die down and the fires are out, no pre-approvals necessary. So, purposely, rather than watching the news which would only scare me to an unnecessary level, or a medical drama which makes me feel like I just spent an exhausting night in the hospital, last night I watched a Seinfeld rerun. Unfortunately, during a commercial break there was an ad for a horror film where a girl whimpers, "Oh God." and the scary guy tells her in a low creepy voice, "No God." Now, I don't see horror films for a reason. They're horrible. And horrifying. Really, they scare me in a very un-enjoyable way that I think most women can relate to considering we have to think about our safety in real life most of the time anyway. So, even though this is a commercial, I have real feelings of sympathy and fear for the girl, and dread and terror of the creepy man/monster. Then, immediately, regarding the fires, an anchor's voice quickly announces, "The death toll rises. Firefighters find victims' remains. Tonight at 11." which makes me suddenly, deeply, very sad and somewhat angry. Then boom - that dopey (albeit usually fun) Seinfeld music: "doe doe doe-di-oh-doe". Back to the show. Wait a minute. Emotions don't process in 30-seconds, do they? Am I unusual for paying attention and responding or is it more acceptable to be caught off guard and manage to not feel anything? Until now I'd thought information overload was distracting bugs and ridiculous news crawls making us read and listen to different things at the same time. But what's really f*ing us up is emotional overload. This is also the disconnect we're seeing politically when words don't mean what we know them to mean and we're left to create the bridge between our intellect and the rest of ourselves. Later there was a drug commercial asking if I'm having trouble sleeping. Hmm. I wonder why?

Meetings

I'm not sure why this happens so often in L.A. and I never experienced this in New York, but meetings get rescheduled between one and three times each here. You cannot take this personally even though you may have scheduled your entire life around the meeting, stayed up all night about it, and prepared yourself for days for it. And even though usually it's a meeting that's very important, the strangest one I experienced was one I didn't even ask for. There was a girl I knew from New York who was an executive out here when I arrived. I got a mass email from her with a "just moved" new address that included three names. So, I popped her an email back congratulating her on her marriage and baby. I got an email back from her assistant to schedule a lunch. Surprised by the impersonal response but giving her the benefit of the doubt (she was a working mom after all) I communicated with her assistant and put something "in the calendar." The morning of our lunch, not only did the assistant email again but she said that we had to reschedule and offered me a date three weeks from then. Honestly, I didn't even really want to meet for lunch even though now it was implied that she was doing me a favor and yet I felt roped in so I rescheduled. The morning of that lunch the assistant emailed, this time with a date six weeks away since "unfortunately, that's her first available." I told the assistant I would be on a huge job then and wouldn't have time to eat. A year later I ran into my friend, the executive, at an event. She gave me a big hug and asked, "Did we ever get together?" I said, "Yes."

Art

I'm reading a self-improvement type book and the chapter about feng shui asks, "If you came into your home would you feel welcome?" The answer was so "no" that I was probably reading that chapter in a coffee shop. But as you may already know, when I get it in my head to change furniture around at 3 in the morning, I'll do it at 3 in the morning. Immediately, I conducted full-on home improvement including decluttering, cleaning, repainting, and last but not least... putting art up on my walls. Until now I have been art-reluctant, almost art-phobic, because for some reason it's implied settling in, but with this new angle of just making things more welcoming, I was ready. I went to Urban Outfitters and got vinyl album cover frames and then to my pleasant surprise had the most fun chore ever: to find great looking record albums to go in them. Between Amoeba and the Fairfax flea market, I noticed that jazz, soul, and funk fit in best in my place. I love everything about them now that they're up -- and also surprising, rather than make me feel stuck or homesick, they make me feel more like I'm surrounded by friends. Sarah Vaughn, The Ramsey Lewis Trio, Lena Horne, The Commodores with Lionel Richie, (oh and The Monkees), are not only welcoming they also happen to be talented, aesthetically pleasing, and