It’s kind of absurd how happy I am here in Los Angeles. Phil and I are staying with dear friends in West Hollywood. Over dinner last night, said friends told me how when I was touring for Straight Up and Dirty, they drove to San Francisco from LA just to meet me and attend my reading. Well, that and Sir Manly Man had a modeling gig–still, they stayed an extra day to meet me. I fucking love flattery.
I also love the way we sometimes feel this pull, something within, driving us–we’re not sure why, but we know we’ll regret it if we don’t at least see where it goes. Intuition. My now friend knew on some level that we’d (for lack of a non-bachelor word) connect. I love that she did.
Speaking of love… seriously, I’m loving the 2010 Buick LaCrosse that GM hooked me up with for this trip! They heard I was heading out to Los Angeles for work and wanted to make my trip even better by offering me my choice of any of their cars for the week. Hells, yeah. I chose the new Buick, equipped with my own chauffeur. Okay, so the chauffeur lives inside the dash and doesn’t actually drive. But any time I’m clueless about directions or how to sidestep traffic, I push the OnStar button, and a real person answers my beck and call, so to speak. Ideal for my “Don’t tell me to go WEST! Who the hell knows what west is? LEFT or RIGHT???” personality. My OnStar chauffeur magically loads my desired location into the navigation system, so I don’t have to sit there typing in city, street name, house number. None of it. Just, la-di-da, get me to Urth Caffe por favor. Done.
I’m trying to convince Phil to trade in our (old) Mercedes convertible in favor of a jacked up car like this one with OnStar and bluetooth phone. By the end of the week, I might get my way. Phil keeps turning to me with, “I’m totally surprised by how nice this is.” It really is. So here’s to the city of angels and one hell of a ride, on all counts.