Sunday, December 07, 2008

The Beginning of the Rest of California + An Apology

Dear Blog,

I am sorry for being such a bad writer and not updating you, linking to pictures of vaginas, and posting pretty pictures all over you. Life has been crazy and I've let myself fall behind. I know that in I promised you late last summer that I would spend more time with you and that I wouldn't get sidetracked... but I got, well, sidetracked. I promise I won't abandon you again and - even better! - find even more dwarf porn for you to enjoy. I have a tonne of stuff to write about (two subway delays in a row! improv shows where I managed to do a whole set of scenes about my jugs! the Midwest!) so I promise I'll be around more. For you, and for the kids. And for the fame. And the money.... and the blog-f*ckers.*

*some or all of these things may not exist.

So, on to business. I'm sure you remember, fair Blog, that I was in California at the beginning of November. Last we left off, I was describing for you my VIP experience at the Ellen Degeneres show (meh, not VIP at all really), an awkward encounter with Kyle Riabko re: humping (yep, still embarassing 2 months later...), and Rikki's parking skillz (major improvements in the midwest, I have to say!). So now we cut to Tuesday at 4.45am where I'm driving back to my cousin's house from LAX, having just dropped Rikki off so she could go home and vote.

Frankly, I'm pretty bummed that I'm flying solo so the minute I get back home I crash so I don't have to think about how lonely it is. Except in my early-morning stupor I manage to finally figure out how to work the heat and in my zeal turned it up to approximately 100 degrees (F or C, it matters not... it was bloody hot!). So of course I woke up not only lonely, but sweaty and grumpy... There was nary a moment to waste, however, so I got up and headed over to the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf at Sunset & Fairfax, enjoyed a pumpkin latte and wrote this blog. Then I hit up The Griddle again and enjoyed one of the best grilled cheeses avec a side of steak fries I've ever eaten. For a city that has so weight-obsessed, they sure do serve the best (read: fatteningly delicious... fattenlicious?) food. I assume that this is like the fact that I am not a lesbian, despite my haircut and fondness for sweater vests and Rosie O'Donnell - ie another of life's little ironies.

So apres eating, I hung out with my cousin and her super famous friend (not mentioning any names... God, I'm so LA...) and - in what is possibly the highlight of my entire trip after freaking Michael Cera out in the airport - got papparazzi'd. I mean, I doubt that they were there to film me, but you never know how many Los Angelenos read my blog (shout out to my WeHo peeps!) and might want to see the face behind the brilliant words. Cough.

So, on to the evening. Like any Canadian in America on the biggest election night in history, I decide to do something very patriotic and saw my 7th performance of Wicked. I am happy to report that there were no shoes lost or fellow musical theatre patrons harmed in this particular viewing of Wicked. Yes, it makes for a less interesting blog, but on the flip side it makes for a more wants-to-die-less Melissa. So it's sorta win-win.

The theatre Wicked is playing in just happens to be in the tourist epicentre (epicenter for my Yank friends) of the city so I was able to stroll (stroll = walk really really fast so I don't get mugged) along Hollywood from Vine to Highland and take in the sights.


Man, is that street a fucking trip. You've got everything from Beso (owned by Eva "I'm not pregnant, just fat. And by fat I mean 1/4 of Melissa's goal weight" Longoria-Parker) to boarded up store fronts with some of the bummiest bums I've ever seen in a city. In other words, it's very much a street of extremes.



(I'm loving the juxtaposition of the I LOVE AMERICA stickers beside the literal translation of the boot of Italy.)

So all along Hollywood (beginning at Vine, actually) is the walk of fame. Now, most people would assume that you're walking along and it's a fairly small stretch of street with the names of the most famous and notable people in Hollywood through the years.

In reality? The street goes on for blocks and blocks and you maybe reconize every 6th or 7th name (and that was me, and I care about things like Hollywood and movies and which celebrity couple has a transgendered son - I'll never tell! - and so would probably recognize more names than the average person). I'm sorry Joe Fitzstevens, but I don't know who you are and why you deserved this star in front of a store that sells crack pipes and bobblehead kitties. Again, another one of Hollywood's many extentricities.

Most notable on this swath of street, however, is the following:

1. the Scientology presence
2. the lights
3. the Kodak/Grauman's theatre/mega shopping complex at the corner of Hollywood and Highland

Did you know that there is such a thing as the L. Ron Hubbard Life Center? Oh yes there is! And it looks just as creepy as you'd expect it to look. There is at least 2 Scientology centres on Hollywood that I noticed and, as compared to the Scientology Centre in Toronto at Yonge & Bloor, those bitches are swaaaanky in LA. I'm talking chandeliers and ornate furnishings and pretty buildings (Toronto? Crappy building that's 50 years old and hasn't been kept up in the last, oh, 47). Dang, LA, you win this round, even if it's just for the creepy "religion" factor.



And, like the rest of the street, there are crazy giant lighted signs prominently announcing the Scientology presence. In fact, it felt like every single store/theatre/restaurant/souvenir shop/sex toy depot had a giant, lighted marquee. So in case anyone asks why California is having an energy crisis, you can confidently answer that "Ron's Dildo Emporium" is probably partially to blame. (Sorry, no pictures of Ron's. By this point I was practically sprinting down the street to avoid altercations with the many colourful locals.)




I am happy to report that I felt marginally safer at the corner of Hollywood and Highland. There was a GAP there, and I figure that muggings are statistically less likely to occur within eyesight of a GAP (mostly because who would want to take down a yuppie who has a penchant for khakis and overpriced sweaters??! Any mugger worth their corrugated cardboard knows that these things have no resale value on the streetz). Before arriving at this corner, I expected there to be a prominent Kodak theatre presence - like it would be obvious that I was staring at the place where the Oscars are held annually. But.... not so much. I think that without the 45 foot tall gold men & star-studded line up, it's less, um, clear.

I did hit up the Grauman's Footprint Yard (<-- best made up title ever?) and marvel at the teeny tiny starlet feet and the presence of Eddie Murphy's footprints (really??! Sorry, I just figured that they'd be a little more discriminating than to let legends like Judy motherfucking Garland hang out beside the dude who sang "Party all the Time"). Highlights were the aforementioned Judy Garland prints (I really should have been born a gay man), Meryl Streep's super skinny feet (or are my feet just really really fat?), and the Harry Potter kids' prints (oh, Daniel Radcliffe! They called me creepy when I said you were hot at 14, but look at you now!).


Gloria Swanson (ie the "old" Rose from Titanic) had the world's tiniest feet.

*insert joke about the size of Daniel Radcliffe's feet here - note that he was only a teenager at the time of these prints and thus still growing!*

(God, I am so creepy.)

My hero Meryl Streep and her skinny skinny feet. Note my adorable shoes, however.

RIP Paul Newman. I enjoy your salad dressing daily!

So that was my Tuesday, Blog. It was a pretty fun day all things considered (even though in addition to the loneliness I also lost my debit card by leaving it the ATM machine... eep!). I'm going to try my best to condense my Wednesday (highlight: running into James Van Der Beek at the Laugh Factory!), Thursday (improv at the iO West!) and Friday (Venice Beaaaaaaaach!) into one post. Mostly because I don't want to rub my awesome adventures in your face and also because I have Chicago to get to yet, plus all the other fun things that have been happening (think: Christmas family portraits with my cats!).

I hope this makes up a little for not posting in forever and also shutting you down for a couple of days. And if you'd like to get me a welcome back present, may I suggest diamonds or a crisp new $1000 bill.

Just saying.

All my love,
Melissa

PS I don't want to ruin the surprise, but I picked you up something from "Ron's Dildo Emporium" that I think you'll really enjoy.

2 comments:

Cubbi said...

I wanna know who your cousin's super famous friend is!!!!

And does James Van Der Beek's head look like a cereal box in real life? Or is that just a trick of the cameras?

HUGS
C

PamM said...

Those are very nice shoes you were wearing :)