It took almost two hours to get to Hollywood from the airport, but because of the excitement, those two hours felt longer than the flight from Boston. I felt nervous. I felt judged. My wide-eyed-seemingly-in-awe-and-utterly-confused face, and wow-she-doesn’t-know-where-she’s-going sort of look were giving me away. I was sure of it. But maybe it was the giant suitcase and the laptop bag hanging off the edge of my shoulder as I grabbed for my cell phone. A man asked me for my metro ticket and when I refused he said, “If I’d been a cop you woulda given it to me.” He didn’t look like a cop. I tried to get away quickly with my giant bag.
So I was going to give you some really lame description of my arrival to Los Angeles. You know, describe some crazy people, tell you how tired I was or how long it took me to finally get to Hollywood. But, this isn’t important. At least it shouldn’t be. What is important: the things I did once I set my suitcase down and pulled on my black Payless pumps.
You can look down at stars studded with famous names of people you might never have heard of, but in Hollywood, that’s the boring part. I’ll admit, I had my moments of sheer tourism, some more unique than others.
One night, I had too much to drink at Dylan’s pub:
Me: I know she’s here. I saw her. I swear!
Natalie: Sure, Alexa. You saw Marilyn.
Me: I did.
I snapped a photo of another celebrity name.
Me: She’s coming up soon. (I might have slurred those words.)
I eventually found Marilyn, but I have about seven other star photos I don’t even remember taking.
What else: I swam at the pool behind the Magic Castle. Ate premade food from Fresh & Easy. Rode the kiddie coaster at the Santa Monica Pier (while Natalie took pictures). Drove from Venice to Hollywood (thank you, soberness). Met Reid and Roman and Lynne and Ray and Zak and Katie and Racky. Watched my friend Blake perform in Chess (and loved it). Bought my self-proclaimed L.A. outfit (a blue and white polka-dotted dress and a red belt). Realized how terrible I am at video games. Watched Are You Afraid of the Dark? and saw Scott Pilgrim vs. the World for the second time. Sang karaoke at Happy Endings. Tried a burger from In N Out. Got an awkward sunburn on my forehead and leg. Heard Natalie belt out Heart and Blake, Queen. Smiled. Laughed. Saw what might have been Adam Lambert’s house. Walked almost as much as I do in Boston. Went to a club where men wore assless pants or no pants at all (I couldn’t tell). Dined in a chicken and waffles establishment. Watched Roman drink frozen margarita off a bartop. Visited Natalie at her job (where everyone might be on some sort of aggressive-happiness-inducing drug). Rode the Flyaway. Dipped my feet into West coast water. Got a slice of free pizza because I looked cute. Added “legit” to my vocabulary (thank you Lynne). Took model photos on a bike. Became afraid of an old elevator. Became afraid of a basement. Fell in love with Los Angeles.
You know, the usual.
This is more of a thank you to everyone who made my stay in L.A. memorable. I already miss you.
Note: pictures to come