Episode 25 - Epilogue of an Epic Adventure

We sense our time is drawing near to leave. This apocalyptic event requires that we take advantage of our pool and summer (we have been hearing reports of a brisk winter in Sydney). Experimenting with an archaic BBQ pool side is one example of this – there was a small spot fire in Hollywood, but Dave managed to keep it under control. We feast on kebabs for the next 3 days, the dilemma quickly became how to work off half a chicken coup and a small abattoir…

Dave works his off on the back of a Ducati, another vehicle to add to his repertoire. Exploring the Angeles National Park cliff tops as close to the edge as possible – Dave’s standard style. The videos he proudly displays on his return - skimming the gravel etc are a little alarming, but he is alive!

I top mine off with an Ocean of fish at Katsuya. We dine with the very entertaining Phil & Christine, spending the night piecing together the 4th July and sharing photos. Despite arriving at the Valet Parking in a Kia (NB. The Kia has not been washed for 2 months and at this point it looks like we pulled it out of the La Brea tar pits), we still feel Rock n’ Roll and pose for the Paparazzi at the door. They don’t budge.

The next day we figure we had better make the most of the last few hours on the Ducati before returning it. We pay homage to the fine beast with a ride through the canyons topped off with breakfast at Santa Monica.

Now how are we meant to top that off? Hmmm ‘Vegas Baby – Vegas’! An impromptu trip is planned in a matter of moments. Trump Tower here we come!

Just like the ‘Swingers’ version, during the first hour of our trip ‘Vegas, Baby, Vegas’ is punctuated with numerous exclamation marks. After a missed turn and sweltering in 43 degree heat, the slow drawl ‘Vegas, Baby… Vegas’ is all we can manage.

We pass the time in the car with themed iPod battles. The song may have to have a person’s name in it, a country theme, water reference, a Vegas icon, something you have seen on the trip – basically eye spy for adults. Mix this in with iPod Trivial Pursuit and Woolah – 6 hours have passed!

Arriving at midnight, we fall into a coma at our Gold Castle. Only after being upgraded to a top level suite – we still love the ‘We just got engaged’ card and have won many a hand of poker with it already.

Despite the perfect tanning conditions at Trump, the gold building reflecting onto us, the water reflecting up at us and the clear sky filled with more 43 degree heat, we head over to the Venetian pool to meet up with Nicks Junior. We find him being followed eagerly by a group of predatory cougars. After rescuing him we move on to the Tao pool area where the cocktails are punctuated with cucumber and the nipples are marked with stars!

‘Vegas the most wonderfully exciting horrible place’ – take note another gem of wisdom from Christian Nicks people. The facade, the phony sets and the phony sets (of breasts), it is true, it is all a show, a lie, but who doesn’t want a little escape now and then and here we are in the wonderful fairy tale land of Las Vegas!

Encounter one was a very humorous incident at the Cirque de Soleil show ‘O’. This entailed the bouncer as we entered telling us ‘no flash photography’, then oddly having our flash free camera revoked mid show, with a card to collect it later. Upon collection we had to delete the photos of ‘O’ in front of the security guard. The last photo pre show was of us celebrating our upgrade by Dave looking out the window of the 36th floor ‘butt’ naked, the poor security guy will have that image tattooed on his retinas for some time. We dine at Yellowtail, and watch the old men in ridiculous bling try and pick up the pretty young waitresses who smile appropriately for their tip. We catch up with Christian again and work the line at Tao nightclub, this place is big enough for its own postcode! We waltz past NBA star Marcus Camby and somehow continue into VIP! This is a lot easier without a Kia.

After a small bit of gambling with no real result we head home, only one more weekend left…

Swimming at the Newport wedge satiates our thrill seeker split personalities; lunch at Laguna Beach fills our stomachs. We quickly drive home past the OC Mountain Goats (yep actual mountain goats) and head to the Comedy Store with Alex, who is impressed with our terrible beat boxing/rapping skills. Dave heckles with the best of them alter ego Raoul - 1, Comedian – 0.

It is a day of golf for the boys at the ‘Swingers’ course, after 3 games it is a dead tie! We savour the last couple of days of swimming. Now here we are heading back to a country where there are almost as many cases of swine flu as in Mexico, and we are still flu free.

A work summary - 6 weeks of auditions, 15 auditions, 2 call backs, 1 hold, 2 conflicting jobs a good response from casting agents, but unfortunately the cash flow has come to an end (payment in modeling years is about as long as the difference between human and dog years)… Sadly it is time to leave, but at least we get to have an engagement party back in Sydney! LA we will miss you…S

Episode 24 - LA Icons

Every Monday in LA for the past 8 years at The Key Club, the sold-out sign goes up when the epic glam cock-rock band ‘Steel Panther’ are in the house. It’s best to leave your PC views at the door as these primped and preened 40+ year old guys regularly cross the boundaries between virtuoso metal performance, freak show and stand-up comedy. Shredding guitar solos are standard fare, as are covers of Poison, Guns n Roses and Motley Crue, and for good measure their own unique songs with such deep lyrics as ‘My heart is for you, but my cock is community property’. Amidst the chaos of leather tights, bandannas and big hair is a witty diatribe of misogyny, bigotry and an open appreciation of the female form, often displayed on stage and in the crowd by the more adventurous audience members.

Although our time wasn’t all spent flexing our cerebral matter. Appropriately on July 4 Weekend we choose to exercise our 2nd Amendment Rights – yes folks, I am a card carrying member of the LAX Gun Club, situated in the most ghetto appropriate location, Inglewood. Charlton Heston would be proud!! Fortunately there are 2 of us, as Californian law states non gun carrying individuals can not use a shooting range alone – something about the high number of incidents where disillusioned shooters turn the gun on themselves. So it is Sheriff Dave and his beautiful assistant who stride into the range with swagger. I choose the target that indicates actual bodily organs over Bin Laden (with a point score for each – who would have thought the left ventricle is worth more than the right?).

I didn’t expect my hands to be shaking, or my heart in my throat as I start loading the clip on my cop issue Glock 9. Every time another shooter on the range squeezes the trigger, we both jump 1 foot off the ground. Something about being in a room of complete strangers with loaded guns made us a little edgy. Not so much the old Jewish couple learning to blow the head off a home intruder (shooting within 10ft range only!), more so the guys with their own arsenal of weapons at their feet. But after squeezing off some rounds, I get the hang of this caper and take my target out from 60 feet. After this I move up to the more bad ass Smith & Wesson 40, and continue the devastation. Driving home, it’s only apt that N.W.A is on the stereo. I am a gangster from Inglewood. I can relate to their lyrics at last!!

Continuing to tick of the list of iconic LA episodes, we pack our own picnic hamper and head to the world famous Hollywood Bowl. Since 1922, the best talent in the world has graced this 17,000+ seat natural amphitheatre – The Beatles, Billie Holiday, Pavarotti, The Doors, The Rolling Stones. Taking inspiration from July 4, we are lucky enough to see All American hero John Fogerty (Credence Clearwater Revival) perform with the LA Philharmonic Orchestra. An eclectic mix of young families, old rockers, patriots and curious spectators (us) make up the appreciative crowd. With such an incredible back catalogue of music, a super tight band and the full sound of the LA Phil, Foggy tears up the stage showing many frontmen ½ his age how it’s done, leaving us literally dancing in the aisles.

The highlight of the show is the big finish – classic hits with a healthy serve of red, white and blue fireworks to top it all off, lighting up the Hollywood Hills in the colours of America. The journey home gives the fireworks a run for their money, as the 1000’s of stairs we climbed to our cheap seats present 100’s of metres of handrails, which we slide down with epic speed and precision!!

Topping off our July 4 Weekend trifecta of LA institutions, we take things up a level and break out the finest threads and kicks, for the glamour fest that is July 4 Pool Party at Mondrian Sky Bar. This is known as one of the finest (read exclusive) gigs of the year, so we employed some suitable tactics to ensure our smooth journey to the bar. A friend of ours booked a massive hotel suite for the night… Bingo!! After a long morning in our own pool, on arrival at the hotel our façade of uber-coolness is tested as we cringe when the valet takes away our Kia to a hidden place underground, a long way from the Maseratis and Ferraris parked ostentatiously out the front.

Stepping into the suite is like sliding down the rabbit hole in Alice in Wonderland into a surrealist dream. But you can’t deny the brilliance of the view across the entire LA basin, and also over the bar below packed with LA’s ‘finest’. A suitable metaphor, as they look down upon the rest of the city’s populous. From the room, at 9pm sharp we watch the entire city horizon bubble and burst in a plethora of colours, as fireworks from Santa Monica to Long Beach and further into the smog towards the OC light up the sky. After this (and a couple of drinks…!), we venture into the bar to soak up the fabmosphere, which I have to say was highly over-rated. When asked ‘do you want to meet recording artist Sean Paul’, my response is a flat ‘no’. I was more than enjoying the current company of friends as it was. Enough said.

Enjoying our constitutional rights, dancing in the aisles and high rolling with good friends. For what is one of our last weekends in the City of Angels, we certainly feel like we’ve managed to cram a whole lot of living into a condensed period of time. Senses reeling, heads hurting, wallets lighter, we retreat back to our base in Hollywood and reflect upon our epic journey… But it ain’t over just yet!!

Episode 23 - R.I.P. MJ

Episode 23 – R.I.P. MJ

Los Angeles, or more specifically Hollywood in reality is a biosphere of its own… This GFC malarkey with all its unpleasant home repossession nonsense, rising joblessness, crashing markets and so on, it’s just so not LA – well Hollywood to be precise. Look to the countless mansions gazing over the city from the Hills, the ever watchful gaze of the Hollywood sign teasing with dreams of stardom, the massive black SUV’s speeding importantly to a studio somewhere, and you know that the entertainment industry and it’s various incarnations will keep this city afloat… Even the homeless men and destitute war veterans are begging for change as the lights stop at the boundaries of 90210. The dream here is still alive!!

Although this week there is a palpable sense of death in the air with the demise of Farah Fawcett, Ed McMahon, and the littlest mega star, The King of Pop, Michael Jackson. Despite the immeasurable impact Farah Fawcett had on boys / men’s walls as America’s No.1 pin-up girl in the 70’s and her often imitated flick hairstyle by millions of women (and now more so, metrosexual men), her loss was forced to the back pages by the passing of MJ. The death of the most pilloried superstar united the world in grief. His unmistakable musical genius became the primary focus of coverage, a refreshing change from the usual drab reporting of his more recent dour ‘lifestyle choices’…

Continuing our morbid fascination with the numerous LA landmarks that saw the passing of many luminaries (i.e., Chateau Marmont, Manson Family murder scene, OJ’s most famous offensive play, etc), another journey to the beach is scuppered by that cursed ‘marine layer’ which rendered the sun absent and the breeze too cold for lazing, we salvage the mission by heading inland towards Encino to show our support / curiosity at the spectacle that was The Jackson Family Compound, complete with police guards, 50+ news crews and outside broadcast vans from every country around the globe. With reporters in the face of all in attendance, it proves that even after death, Michael Jackson will continue to be tabloid fodder for years to come – the circus is far from over!! R.I.P. lil’ man.

On a similar tangent, 7 weeks in LA have led me to a firm assessment of the LA ‘Rules of Engagement’, or how to make it in LA…. They seem alarmingly simple, but I staunchly believe that they are completely applicable on so many levels.

Step 1 - ‘Through whichever ostentatious means possible, be seen!’

Step 2 – ‘If socioeconomic or genetic factors prevent you from being seen, be heard!’

(Repeat)

If the above measures fail, move back to Iowa where you grew up, and drop the movie star aspirations…

These simple rules seem to be a mantra of the majority of LA denizens. Fashion, vehicles, lifestyle, your look, your voice… It’s paramount to the identity of LA and the people who make LA. So as they say, ‘when in Rome….’

As chameleons that fit so beautifully into whatever their surrounds, we venture out into LA to absorb some clubs. An unexpected foray into an epic drag night at The Standard on Sunset. I tell the doorgirl – ‘it’s alright honey, we’re from Sydney. We’ve seen this all before’, but the MC’ing, dancing 7ft chocolate brown pussycat still manages to raise our eyebrows. As per my own Rules of Engagement, we aren’t quite as camouflaged as we would expect so after a few cocktails we bust a move!

On a different tangent, a couple of trips to Villa Lounge courtesy of a promoter friend of Sam’s who hooks us up with free bottomless vodka served to our table, sees us hit the dance floor like a couple of local kids. Certainly makes for good times, and raging hangovers… Although not quite the epic standard of the film ‘The Hangover’ which we caught at ArcLight Cinemas. I am told by a mate at home, that he wants to head to Las Vegas soon for a Bucks Night – mine!!

The much hyped Grammy Museum is an interesting visit, especially in light of the focus they currently have on Michael Jackson’s career. I like Elvis’ and Kurt’s guitars, and also the live recording booths they have to mess around as a studio producer in. Drop the beat homeboy!! So it’s only fitting we follow that studio session with cocktails and canapés in a poolside vibrating waterbed on the 20^th floor atop The Standard Downtown and catch the afternoon’s rays. I could definitely get used to hanging here. It makes Sydney’s Ivy look like Castle Hill Tavern! I like this place.

We pack the car one weekend for a trip into the ranch and farm lands west of the OC, for a mate’s ‘Dirty 30 Ranch’ weekend on one of the top rodeo bull and stallion ranch. Either fortunately or unfortunately, we arrive a little later in the day when the team challenge games are degenerating, and the drinking games are accelerating. Not before getting involved with Steve’s winning birthday team. An 8-a-side tug of war becomes a case of every guy smashing each other into the mud pit, but that is fun to watch. A legendary float around the pool in the sun becomes night that becomes some semi-weird sexual tension in a cabin, so we make scarce to crash on our mattress under the Cali country night sky. A sublime starlit finish to an action-packed day on the farm!

Frosty and I amuse our selves on the arduous drive home with our own zany, whacky iPod Battles – we agree a central theme or genre, and have to alternately DJ a mix song by song – dang we know how to have a good time.

Speaking of which, imagine you’re in LA – The City of Lights – it’s Saturday night, you’ve cracked open some vintage bottles of wine (read $2.50), and you wanna party. Hit The Standard – check, Marmont – check, Sushi Club – check… How about we get crazy and rock some IQ quizzes on each other – not necessarily to determine who is smarter, but juz for kicks yeah? CA-RAZY!! Geography quizzes, IQ tests, you name it – we’re on it. And before we know it, the bars are closed, we’re buzzed – mentally and through intoxication – so that’s a wrap everybody! (insert last line of paragraph above)…D

Episode 22 – The Fish Suicides

My new mantra, which I found scrawled on the back of a Barney's Beanery (the last place Janis Joplin visited before her death) toilet cubicle, is 'You are exactly where you are meant to be'.

So I do find it interesting that I end up at an audition for a Steel Panther music video. We had heard about these guys before we arrived. A glam rock, tongue in cheek, 80’s throwback band. So I thought it would be fun to get to know them a little better. The casting was filled with industry types – the adult entertainment industry that is. The questions asked at the audition included: ‘would you simulate felatio or sex?’ and ‘have you slept with anyone famous’. Answering no to all of these questions I was quite surprised when I got cast as one of the band member’s girlfriends. Perhaps fortunately the shoot dates conflicted with another job I had for Asics and I was not able to shoot the video.

The metamorphosis from this ‘industry casting’ to ‘biker mole’ is minimal as we eagerly begin our Highway 1 Road trip to Monterey on a Harley Davidson Road King. Our first stop - lunch at Geoffrey’s in Malibu (pronounced Joffreys darling), where our view is obstructed by the damn Marine layer which has also brought the temperature down 20 degrees, I look down at my summer dress with disdain.

From cruising the wharf at Santa Barbara we made our way to San Simeon, where frostbite attempted to settle in. The unexpected inclement weather in the middle of summer just one day off solstice made sandals on a motorbike a fairly absurd idea. The next morning my boy rides off for petrol and like a knight on a metal stallion returns with Christmas tree socks and a red ‘Cow Town’ jumper. Both of which I am thankful for despite the obvious smudge on the sophisticated polish I like to pretend I possess. It does make it easier to concentrate on the scenery though, rather than my arctic blue extremities.

It is easy to marvel at the number of Eucalypt trees on our drive. This is an introduced species, much like Australian Entertainers, who are only just tolerated by the locals. The road winds up the Coast of Big Sur like a languid serpent. The dramatic cliffs and coast line are breathtaking. The Elephant seals at San Simeon and sea lions at Monterey steal our hearts. Driving back home at night we are thankful for the warmth of the LA smog. We managed to ride 820 miles (or 1320 km) in just over 2 days. What can you say about that, just one thing really - numb posterior!

We are confronted with a devastating scene when we open the door of our apartment. A double suicide, our fish had separation anxiety and had committed suicide. My mother will later relate that we were quite de’fish’ent in our care – ‘Boom tish’…S

Episode 21 - Family Planning

Feeling thoroughly settled in Club Taormina, we feel that as an engaged couple that it's a ripe time to start work on a family. Sure we're along way from home and family, but we've got a lovely place and we're well equipped for additions. This certainly isn't a decision that Sam or I want to rush into, but we are ready. We discuss at length various ways to make it happen right - I mean, we've both done it previously, so we not what is required but I still think it best to do some extensive research online. We settle on two kids for a range of reasons, jump in the car, and go and pick them up - along with all the paraphernalia required to keep them alive. Welcome EFISHent and Syd FISHous to our happy home. Syd, the punk goldfish with the mohawk colouration is obviously my son, whilst Frosty's gets to work cleaning the tank incessantly! We're so proud of them, growing up so fast...

Like the many moods of the weather, or women for that sake (cue outrage from readers), LA seems to be all about occasionality. We have supermarkets for when we're feeling flash (Gelsons - expensive, but glamourous with celeb lookalikes), healthy (Whole Food Market - all organic food, more celeb lookalikes), lazy (Ralphs - just around the corner, capable) and broke (Jons - more of a 'South of the border' feel). At all levels however, the choices are astounding, with prices generally being much lower than in Australia - $3 bottles of reasonable wine? Hello! We were going to attend a live taping of 'The Price is Right' here, but decided we'd be way off the mark and would end up ridiculed rather than with 'a neeeeeew car!' Even restaurants have embraced this tiered system, with every business having to display a rating in the front window. In West Hollywood you know they're all A, but the further east you go, B's and C's start to appear - but on the flipside, the prices get cheaper and cheaper!

Having both traveled many parts of the earth, it brings us joy to reflect as we drive around the global microcosm of LA. Rather than deal in suburbs like Australia, most regions have an international moniker - we are close to Little Armenia and Thai Town. Sam and I independently comment on the smaller portion sizes at restaurants in Little Ethiopia (we are a good match!). Filipino Town, Little Tokyo and Chinatown are all here too. In Korea Town, Sam honestly believed that the ‘Ped Xing’ sign painted across the road were road rules in Korean. Then there is Compton which has a loyal gathering of gangsters gentlemen sporting red and blue colours, Fashion District has fluoro Ray Bans and skinny jeans, West Santa Monica Blvd has lovely rainbow coloured flags, and much of the rest of LA seems like Mexico!

Sam's experience of more time working with locals here has aided her assimilation into LA culture deeper than mine. Her belief that everyone that steps off the plane in LA is handed a neurosis, leads to her troubling insomnia. Personally, I'm adamant that it is her heightened awareness of the significance of what looks likely to occur, as the LA Lakers flatten all before them in the NBA Playoffs.

That's right, LA erupts into a sea of Purple and Gold as the Lakers win the NBA Finals. An ongoing ritual of Sports bar Happy Hours come to a crashing halt - no more $2 wings, 2 for 1 drinks and half price nachos every second night! But it leaves one triumphant event yet to occur - the Lakers Victory Parade. Whilst waiting amongst the 250,000+ other tourists (presumably none of them had jobs?) and 50,000 police, the crowd started getting restless which in turn prompted this note to self:

Musings from the Curb

When the collective mass of humanity is congregated together, what should inspire us as a unified collaboration of the fruits of evolution never materializes. Instead the reverse is true whereby the mass becomes more akin to primates entertained by the inane and the fools, which only serves to inspire other primates to imitate and draw focus upon themselves to distinguish themselves from the mass.

Darwin would be ashamed as group mentality erases millions of years of progress.

Although once the team are in sight, an entirely different mood overtakes the crowd. Despite the lengthy wait, it is easy to become caught up in the genuine admiration for these athletes and what they represent to LA. Magic Johnson, Kobe Bryant and all the team are there and they seem sincerely moved by their reception en masse. Having never attended a tickertape parade, this seemingly random exercise is a real highlight. Plus now all the Lakers know who I am - I'm pretty sure Kobe indicated to me he wanted to hang out at the club... D

NOTE FROM FROST (ed):

During the parade I showed my appreciation by blowing my favourite player, Pau Gasol, a kiss, he sees me and smiles. Now I am not sure if it was a coincidence, but he did lick his lips straight after this. Pau and I go way back sharing a bond over our love of the Fresh Prince of Bel Air. He recently received the Sam Award for the most obscure early 90’s reference in an interview. The Fresh Prince of Bel Air was one of his favourite shows and consequently my favourite rap. This opinion is not affected at all by the fact that it is also the only rap I know all of the words to. I once rapped to it at a party in London wearing the hosts ski suit whilst doing a back spin on a piece of a lino. My break dancing did require help from my lovely assistant Pippa as my foot was broken, in a cast and wrapped in cling wrap – this is an even longer story...

Episode 20 – Napping in Napa

Our first industry event, The LA Casting Monthly Mixer is interesting to say the least. We marvel at budding actors, producers, stunt men and agents purposefully walking around handing out business cards and head shots to anyone in their peripheral. All this while taking advantage of the one hour open bar. My charismatic fiancé was approached by the director of a Western Action film to appear in his film, so he sells himself with the introductory line ‘I am pretty handy with the steel if you know what I mean’ I drown my laughter in my free drink.

We are usually not too concerned with appearances, but upon leaving this particular event, we did continue down the street past our car to avoid boarding our rental Kia in front of the crowded bar. Speaking of the Kia, which we fondly call ‘Arleeeene’, I admit I was the first to have a bingle, but in my defence it was in our ridiculously, difficult to maneuver, parking bay. At least it was comforting to look around and see the same identifiable mark on the other cars in the lot.

The Lakers successful run is still ongoing and we dress up for our first finals game. Me in a Lakers shirt (how the tables have turned) pinning together 2 Lakers bar towels as the world’s shortest skirt. Dave is an equal beacon of Laker pride. We so convincingly looked the part that we were interviewed by a TV station upon entering the Staples Center. But alas our tickets did not scan; the season ticket holder who sold them to us had sold them twice. Dave fought back tears and missed half the game on television as he tried to rectify the problem on the phone. He is given his money back with a credit, but this is not enough to repair his broken heart. Our outfits are not quite so impressive and acceptable in the regular bar we eventually end up at.

At my French maid audition the next day, yep that’s what I said, I am amazed and astonished to discover that everyone in LA seems to have a French maid’s outfit gathering dust in the back of their wardrobe. Unfortunately, not viewing this as a necessity, I had not packed one. This was just one of a number of odd requests in wardrobe I will be asked to provide whilst in LA. The following list is not exhaustive: pyjamas and a pillow for a college dorm party; snorkel mask; a live cat and a genie’s outfit. Perhaps even odder than the requests, was that my limited resources managed to fill each brief to some degree. I did stop short of buying a kitten the day before a cat food casting though, unlike some other auditioners.

A Weekend in Napa with the Nicks family is a delightful escape from LA. We miss the plane due to the extensive queue for ‘Pinks’, a famous hot dog vendor in LA. I do ruminate how fabulous it would be to be immortalized in a Pinks hot dog, by having one named after you like ‘the Ozzy Osbourne’ (no bats included). That must be when you know you’ve made it! We vastly enjoy the irony of seeing a fly on the Health Department Certificate on the wall. We do not however enjoy the unfortunate tragedy of missing our flight and are forced to book another one.

We marvel at the extensive security of LAX, where my terribly threatening and menacing nivea moisturizer is seized from me while 2 people walk through with their dogs as carry on. They are small and perfect bomb size, how is this fair!

In Napa, our accommodation with the Nicks Family is gorgeous. It has panoramic views, beautiful old trees and a security camera that is not wired to anything, but they are convinced it is enough to deter would be burglars (it has worked so far). After dinner we retire to the Nicks Family Bocce Ball Court. Where I am promptly assured that I will not be invited back unless I have bocce lessons.

It is an interesting weekend as the Wine Auction crowd takes over the town and the NASCAR crowd start arriving. Two very different and distinct society sets descend onto Napa simultaneously. With some sound advice from a recently engaged friend of ours in Australia, we decide to milk the engagement during our wine tasting. Thanks Grytt. Free glasses check, free tasting absolutely – ahhh love!

‘If food is the body of good living, wine is its soul’ and we spend the day working on our soul. This includes reflecting on the history of Napa with Mack at Etude, being ignored at Opus One (even as an engaged couple!), admiring the Oscars on display at Francis Ford Coppola’s winery where you even get to taste Sophia and being on our best behaviour at our tasting with a 5th generation sniper. The evening limo (I don’t really understand where it came from, but I will take it) allows us to enjoy the culinary delights Napa has to offer. Then we reminisce about the day in the Nicks family hot tub – delightful! ...S

Episode 19 - Less Temple, More Prayer House

The place of advertising in this society is vastly over indexed - the mere presence of a self nominated claim of 'World's Best' or even 'Number 1' really should automatically disqualify said product from contention. The same goes for celebrity endorsements. In the same way a small dog will always try and intimidate a larger dog before running like hell. In the same way a tattoo across your chest that reads 'Hardcore' isn't - if somebody has to tell you this, then it's because their actions don't justify it. With this front of mind, much of the building sized billboards and signs around LA should be removed or painted over. For the record, Tommy's Burgers on Hollywood Blvd, are NOT 'the best in the world'. Similarly, the vast queues for 'the best chili dogs in the world' at Pinks are being mislead. Somebody really needs to moderate these false prophecies.

Living the Hollywood dream, we decide it could pay handsome dividends to investigate acting classes as recommended by Sam's agent. With stars in our eyes and open minds, we attend an introductory lesson with a 'world famous' acting teacher. It's been 16 years since possibly the worst Year 8 'Midsummer Night's Dream' amateur drama production ever staged, and I think I've finally laid those Lysander demons to rest. But tingling nerves are soon soothed upon the realisation that acting is at its essence performing a role in a believable manner, and no disrespect to any fine actors, but most people do this every day at work and at home, so I feel buoyed. A video replay in front of the whole class of a scene each person performed earlier soon extinguishes the bright lights in my eyes...

Instead, my Hollywood aspirations shift to the more technical elements of film production - such as location scouting. Armed with a Star Map, I commence a quest to identify every location in LA film history - starting with iconic Los Angelian films ‘Swingers’ and ‘LA Confidential’. This quest soon hits paydirt as I recognise my favorite Par 3 Golf Course in Swingers, and then the house two doors down from ours in a pivotal LA Confidential scene! A trip to Mann's Chinese Theatre to see 'Bondi Sam' in the latest Terminator blockbuster (and enjoy the rollercoaster-esque motion and sound responsive 'D-Box' seats), features our favourite star gazing location, Griffith Park Observatory - granted it is made out as an apocalyptic dump, but we are there most days!

It is a fact, that such a vast amount of popular culture has it's genesis in and around LA, that every street sign, suburb or beach seems to feature in an internationally known song or movie - or somebody who stars in them OD'd or was arrested there. We are inside a living, tangible and wildly interactive pop exhibit, where anything can and does happen!!

Bearing this in mind and exuding 'star quality' coz 'that's how we roll', we spend an afternoon rolling around the beachfront of Venice. Whilst stopped to view the one of the many groupings of distinctive sub-cultures that frequent the region (in this case, middle-aged disco fanatics, who've been unable to rollerskate out of the late 70's...), a talent scout approaches Sam for a legit modeling job. This kinda thing happens everyday - just not to me!! We keep on cruising into the tight streets of the Venice Canal developments, where ducks have right of way and they know it. It takes enormous self-restraint to not push a women into the algae green water who comments that 'they look just like canals at the Venetian in Vegas...' Last time I checked, Venice Italy was not in Nevada? FAIL

Speaking of falling in, during a visit to the infamous La Brea Tar Pits (conveniently located on Wilshire, a couple of miles from La Brea - damn San Andreas fault and tectonic movement!) we debate how it was possible that 1,000's of sabre tooth tigers and wooly mammoths could have met their sticky end here - also hip-hop legend Notorious B.I.G was shot nearby (despite rumours and his girth, he did not get stuck in the pit!). Sam really didn't believe that intelligent animals would stray into the tar and become stuck, when it was obviously black and bubbling, to which I replied that over 1 million bones had been extracted from these pits, so clearly it had happened. To settle our archeological argument, Frosty the Tiger puts her hand in the tar to prove her point, and proceeds to spend the next few hours trying to remove this extremely sticky, oily trap! Evolutional irony...

It has been a full 24 hours without seeing Drew Barrymore, so to get our celeb on we attend a live taping of the Jimmy Kimmel Show. Either my long legs or Sam's get us seated front row in breathing distance of Jimmy and his studio band, meaning as they pan in to Jimmy's desk after ad breaks, I can distinctly make out my XL head obscuring part of his desk. Hey Mom, I'm on TV...! The genuinely hilarious Will Ferrell is an awesome celeb 'scalp', and the much hyped appearance of rapper Eminem turns out to be a pre-recorded segment, but still doesn't disappoint. They premiere Jimmy and Eminem's new track 'Briefcase Joe' about an upper class white kid and his high school struggles, which has been getting radio play in LA - apparently signaling the end of Eminem's rep. Here's a lil' sumtin sumtin from the show:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=g1lgUwHyKQQ A pleasant evening is completed when the studio band leader (formerly the front man of ska-punk band The Mighty Mighty Boss Tones) takes a distinct liking to my beautiful fiance, even going so far to whisper in Jimmy Kimmel's ear, followed by them both staring at her blatantly - ah my girl, she makes me so proud! A-List respect!!

Whilst slowly sipping our $50 round of drinks (2 drinks that is - not even cocktails...) at the 'utterly fabulous' Mondrian SkyBar, perched overlooking the less fortunate from the West Hollywood Hills, we philosophise some of the paradoxes of LA. Incalculable wealth in the hills, yet homeless people begging at the traffic lights. Or more relevant to us, the organic health phenomenon living alongside the ample avenues of LA debauchery. Running through the canyons and mountains of Griffith Park in the morning, and then enjoying the occasional big night out later that day, leaves us perturbed. LA - glamorous by night, sweaty in the morning! Lucky then that I view my body less as a temple, and more of an occasional prayer house. But it is also highly useful as an entertainment park... D

Episode 18 – Shake, Rattle & Roll

We get to test the foundations of your new home fairly hastily, with a May 18 Earthquake measuring 4.7 on the Richter. Originally we thought it was a poltergeist in our fridge, then the realization that we were experiencing a bona fide Californian Earthquake, albeit a mild one, hits us and we smile proudly at each other. Everybody in our block proceeded to spill out of their apartments to share in the excitement, we didn’t even feel the after shock as we were all juiced up on adrenalin from the original quake. Humans are definitely peculiar. Our species intrigue with drama is too odd a fascination to even begin to break down. I abdicate my role as blog psychologist.

We quickly become alumni of Griffith Park, the largest city park in California. Griffith Park climbs to its pinnacle dramatically and rapidly, only stopping briefly to pass the dome of the Griffith Observatory. The park cowers at the smog it is incapable of challenging, no matter how much oxygen the trees emit, this is an insurmountable battle. However reaching the top of the park is surmountable (ish…) and it becomes our running training ground (hey at least it gets me off the streets). During our grueling runs carrying an entire army kit & an SUV on our backs (Dave would make you believe this is the case), we curiously observe the symbiotic relationship between squirrels and litter. This truly is a match made in our superfluous society waste heaven or at least in a ‘heaven’ icecream wrapper. We have street cred now (we got a hummer sideways in the desert), so we don’t even hesitate passing a sign that says ‘beware of mountain lions and rattle snakes’, we are actually intrigued about encountering either - despite the 30yr break since the last fatal mountain lion attack in LA, we sense it is imminent. We bask in our extensive knowledge of speaking ‘cat’ and assure ourselves that we could talk down a teeth baring predator no problem – here kitty!

We hit another Lakers game for the Western Conference Finals. This is a celeb petri culture dish and incubation ground for the famous. They are slightly more difficult to spot this time as our seats are on Jupiter. It is a formidable challenge but we manage: Drew (again), Denzel, Spike Lee, David Arquette, John Mayer and Jack Nicholson - a permanent fixture on the Lakers bench. The Lakers win again, we are a good omen – it must be our Lakers shrine at home, an unlikely deity shrouded in purple & yellow.

This week is the start of auditions and also the beginning of my battle for coins. Parking, washing machine, tips etc… these little guys actually take top billing over their paper associates due to their diverse uses. The audition/casting process in LA is a little different to what I am used to, Actors are actually issued with a bar code and registered on a casting agents site. While this may seem demeaning and Orwellian, it is actually notably efficient and saves a lot of paper – eco friendly too. The Virgo in me is impressed. The briefs for the auditions are hilarious: sexy, cute, coy, confident, edgy, interesting, casual. And yes it is not unusual to get all of these indicators in one brief. Clearly schizophrenia is part of the model/actor code. Then there are sides with additional information just incase the brief hasn’t confused you enough!

Our 1 year anniversary is celebrated with a low key night at ‘Chateau Marmont’. Just 2 metres away in our peripheral we see her, now it was official, Drew Barrymore is clearly stalking us. We inform our waiter, who assures us that he would be putting a word in with management. Our fear of Drew was diminished when we received the bill for the night - that was much more terrifying. Did someone say double Affogato!

Newport Beach for the weekend, after admiring street break dancing and trained macau’s, we are in for an Australia vs US drinking competition. We were out of practice, the alcohol catches up with us quickly and we let the Aussies down – blimey! Our hosts are humble about their win and still drag us to numerous packed venues.

The US is definitely a matter of semantics. When searching for a bank card, I attempted to call a bar I had frequented during the weekend to see if I had left it behind the bar. I asked the Phone Directory for ‘Sharky’s in Newport’, I was informed that there was no area called Newport, I thought this odd as I had just spent the weekend there and didn’t think I had imagined it. As the conversation progressed, I extended my description to Newport Beach. ‘Oh no problems, putting you through now’. Remember to keep it ‘inside the square’ people…S

Episode 17 - Back in the USSA...

Our return to LA sees us accommodatingly accommodated with a stay in a beautiful little house in the Hollywood Hills, a fabulously decrepit old Mercedes, and a frustratingly neurotic cat. We soon found we also have a hermit flat mate, and an excruciatingly friendly neighbour who thought nothing of knocking on the front door continuously for 30 minutes at 7am in the morning, just to see if everything was OK - 'well it f**king would be if you weren't knocking..!!' Said neighbour goes on the give me a 20 minute spiel about Gracie the cat and her favourite things - such as hiding under the couch and defecating around the house. Ahh LA - where even pets need therapy!!

Dr. Sam figures that the agoraphobic cat needs to face her fears, and despite warnings that coyotes eat cats in this neighbourhood, Frosty insists on having Gracie join us for brunch in the backyard. Needless to say, petrified cat escapes and spends next 18hrs hiding under the closest thing it can find to a couch in the neighbour’s yard! Gracie 1 - Coyotes 0

Much of the next week is spent assimilating back into modern society. Laptops and mobile phones feel like a novelty after our technologically barren Mexican jaunt. Just coz we're wild and crazy, we stage a synchronised Facebook status update to simultaneously announce our engagement to the online world. Clearly, we've missed some elements of being connected. We revel in the outpouring of love received from our social network, and still chuckle like school children at the thought of our epic 'relationship status'!

Feeling like legit LA residents we get a Rewards Card at our local supermarket, and Sam eventually collects her social security card after battling with the system - suffice to say US voice recognition software doesn't allow for foreign nuances of the English language, and trying to collect your all important Social Security number seems to require knowledge of what that number is to collect it?!? We're told by a friend that unemployment benefits in the US are only issued for 3 months then you're cut-off, so we decide a much more beneficial card to collect would be a 6 Flag's Magic Mountain Season Pass - they're so much more fun AND they last for 7 months! We venture to this 260 acre utopia of G-forces, and with minimal queuing run from ride to ride until we almost pass out dizzy. Every rollercoaster we are locked into induces manic screaming and/or laughing - at one point I think I dislocate my brain, and another I feel like my mouth is about to fall off from negative G's. See for yourself:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ik4zHtTDkE

It takes days until we feel like we are no longer on a looping, rolling, dropping steel track defying all of Isaac Newton's Laws of Motion. Perfect.

A less thrilling but no means less daunting task is scouring the LA rental market for our own apartment - given that we are in fact engaged, it seems logical that we should try living together in our own place. Craigslist, online, street press, community notice boards – we searched them all. Eventually narrowing the search (which isn't difficult as 50% of ALL listings cover medicinal marijuana, massage, and 'other' not applicable specialised services), we're left with a few options. Condo-style living loaded with facilities (gym, spa, tennis & bball courts, pool rooms, golf driving range - all features presumably to distract you from miserable area outside of gates!) or the glamour of Hollywood?? A final visit to the super condo seals our fate, as yelping dogs (under 30 pounds as stipulated in the rental contract!!), screaming kids and gang bangers all congregate centrally in the poolside area - an entirely too 'lively' scene for our liking.

We unanimously agree and move into 'Club Taormina' in Hollywood right away – a cute little studio with a Mediterranean style pool area with cabana, and only 10 apartments (as opposed to 10,000), we feel we've found our home. Our 1st visit to our pool sees a fellow resident loudly embellish on his mobile phone (seemingly for his AND our enjoyment) the most outrageous ex-girlfriend retaliation story we've ever heard - needless to say this girl's local priest (and entire email database) believe she has become an adult entertainer and have photos of her illustrating such. Welcome to Melrose Place! After his call, our new friend shared with us some of the local attractions in the neighbourhood... D

Episode 16 – Engagement Moon

The water is remarkable at Zipolite. It has a red tinge to it for our first couple of days we are there. One of the locals informs us (it is cuter in a Mexican accent) ‘the Ocean, she is like a laaaaady, except that a laaaaady goes red once a month, the ocean, she goes red once a year’. Then at night, under the full moon, the phosphorescence lights up the waves for 100 metre stretches. The moon is tinted pink. Nature is pulling out all of her tricks for us. It seems fortuitous as this is where Dave popped the question and so it is that I am to become the future Mrs M!

Things did not go as smoothly as intended for the proposal despite all of Dave’s behind the scenes preparation, which was difficult when we had been spending pretty much every second together. The resort was not just something we stumbled upon as I had first thought, but rather the conclusion of Dave’s research with the locals as to the ideal location for a proposal. He found the only restaurant within 100km that had Moet and put the 2 bottles they had on hold and planned his strategy with the waiters earlier in the day. One waiter spoke French, the other Spanish, there was plenty of room for some instructions to be lost in translation, damn charades had failed!

So after I busted Dave’s balls about wearing a long sleeved shirt to a beach restaurant (it was the shirt he was wearing when we first met, a night we call the ‘blue light disco’), we arrived at the resort restaurant 20 metres from our door step. Dave deters my wine choice with a cocktail and we order a seafood feast, the Nudista Platismo.

Dave looked around a few times, then called the waiter over, nothing unusual here, he promptly arrived and asked ‘Is everything OK?’ to which Dave responded ‘Yes’, huh now that was a little unusual. Dave’s subtle attempt at prompting was aided with gesticulation. By this point I started to think that my boyfriend had been possessed by odd behaviour demons. The waiter turned his tray to block my face from his and motioned if this was when he was meant to bring the champagne. ‘SI!!’

The waiters messed up the timed delivery of the champagne, but it was still perfect. Even when the waiters all wanted to stick around and listen to the proposal. After Dave’s one knee proposal, I gave him one right back, on my knee – a dual proposal. We joked that Dave had booked out the entire restaurant for us. The truth was that swine flu had scared off the tourists and we were the only ones dining here at a beautiful table lit by wooden torches, with our toes in the sand. We love having Swine Flu on holiday with us.

Back in our room, we made the obligatory and desired phone call to my Dad to ask for his blessing. The phone ran out of credit mid conversation, fortunately however this was just after the vital information had been communicated. In no way was the next event a typical response to the ceremonious, romantic occasion we had just shared, but I did spend the night reaping the benefits of too much champagne, vomiting in the toilet! Romantico...

We had declared earlier in our relationship, that I was done with ‘breaking up’ and Dave was done with ‘picking up’, so ‘forever’ was always on the cards for us. Even with the aforementioned reasons said in jest, a beautiful, loving and caring relationship made that eventuality so much more perfect and fulfilling.

Relatives spent the next 2 days trying to get in contact with us. But alas no internet, no phone credit, official news would have to wait. In the mean time we were enjoying our Engagement Honeymoon. We would spend all day in the swinging bed outside our villa discussing life and possible wedding scenarios, I would become nauseous again. This response to discussions of our future together soon dissipated, as did the food poisoning.

During our Engagement Moon, my darling fiancé furnished me with this gem ‘You are the most amazing creature to walk the Earth – even better then dinosaurs’. A wordsmith, lexicologist and intellectual – what a catch! I know I am in for a wild ride, starting with comically re enacting from Here to Eternity in the world’s roughest shore break. The reality resulted in swimmers full of sand, the idea though was a nice representation of what the future holds, a self actualizing prophecy we think ‘From here to Eternity’. So now we are leaving our island paradise with so many fond memories and a sparkling new ring! …S