Okay, sometimes, somedays, my life is a little bit interesting and just a wee bit--yes--glamourous. Let's be very clear, I don't FEEL glamourous--I feel mostly like a fish out of water. Why? 'Cause I'm here...
Yes, Los Angeles--land of broken and living dreams. I usually fly in at night and stare at the sprawl of it like I'm mesmerized by something out of 'The Matrix'. By day it looks a little more ordinary. Still huge though. Still daring you to hold on to your dreams in spite of it.Been working my tail off all night, getting ready for the first 12 of 25 interviews I'm going to shoot over the next couple days. I'm dead tired from getting up at 3:00am today, then driving to Buffalo Airport then flying to Cincinnati then to LAX; but I'm pushing through 'cause I've got to be ready.
Of note is the fact that I'm not as horrified about tomorrow as I was last time (the first time) I did this. Also of note is the friggin' fish-out-of-water room I'm staying in...
Yes, the famous 'Beverly Willshire Hotel'. I keep thinking Frank Sinatra or Jennifer Anniston could've slept in the bed I'm sleeping in. And that's weird for a minute until you remind yourself they not only slept in your bed, they drooled in it--just like any normal human being would.
It's just a town full of people, after all.
People who demand things like this in their bathrooms...
Pretty nice.And the funny thing is, this town isn't exactly what you'd call 'nice'. It feels hard and full of potential. It feels rich and desperate at the same time. It feels like a place where dreams are made and killed.
It feels like L.A.
Shared the lobby with Chris Cornell tonight.
Shared the elevator with Lil' Wayne's producer.
Everybody stared at me as I walked through. Not 'cause I'm anybody, but just so as they could make sure I wasn't somebody. Put on big sunglasses and walk with purpose in this town and everybody looks twice.
Speaking of big sunglasses...
Paris Hilton just confirmed for Thursday.
I'll let you know how that goes.
Peace.
T
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