Episode 2 - Marmentous

Let’s get this straight, I am not here for a holiday, but for all intents and purposes the first 4 weeks of this trip are well, a holiday.

We awaken to our empty motel pool glistening in the sun, from previous trips I am well aware that it almost never rains in LA. Endless consecutive days of sun means that any wet areas on the footpath can pretty much always be attributed to dogs.

Apparently we arrived on a 'transition' day for the weather – you have got to love Americans sensationalizing everything. It has gone from sunny and brisk to sunny and warm; this is clearly a seismological and dramatic change of weather.

I glance curiously at the perhaps symbolic vacuous pool as I navigate a running route for the morning. I know that a certain stigma is attached to those who run or even walk the streets of LA, words such as ludicrous (he is not just a rapper) and clinically insane spring to mind, but I have to admit that I am one of these people. This is a drivers’ town. No one walks in LA. The cars are fabulous or hybrid, which equals fabulous for todays environmentally sound A list.

There are more emblems here than a 4^th grade geography class on the States of Australia. These shining, multi tasking, moving houses serenade me as I glide along the perfectly paved, barely trodden sidewalks of LA alone.

A sidewalk juncture and chance meeting have a loud, overt American (is there any other type? You can also apply, is there any other type of Australian than a patriotic one here) complimenting me on being both fit & pretty. I didn’t dare break it to him that this would go through a much more dramatic ‘transition’ than the weather in about half an hour.

By this stage I had only been running for about 50 metres, sorry 164 feet. The leaders of the free world are yet to go metric and don’t get me started on trying to get an Australian voltage hairdryer to work in the US or converting Fahrenheit to Celsius. Subtract 32, divide by the diameter of a pick up tire (not tyre or metre, did I mention they speak English in the US – allegedly) and multiply by the number of boob jobs completed in a day in LA. I arrive home in one piece, by now it is warm.

Despite all of its irregularities, vulgar displays of materialism and super size idiosyncrasies – I can’t help but love this place more with every minute that passes… To prove it, I don’t even mind waiting in a government building to put my Social Security Card application in today. In order to have a bank account, be a member of SAG and own a bite size puppy that I can carry in my bag – apparently this elusive card is all that I will require.

Driving in our convertible, we dropped in to Tom Cruise's place (OK we stalked the perimeter), watched the sunset from the Hollywood sign and drove past a red carpet premiere where Drew Barrymore & Jessica Lange were making an appearance. We have a few fuzzy photos as evidence. The Canon G10 is magic, but that was taking zoom to a whole other level.

Later we attend a TV show taping for Carson Daly and see 'White Lies' live, unfortunately the aforementioned Carson Daly is strangely absent. We walked into the making of, and almost got cast in, Entourage the movie and we just missed Talking Heads live on Jimmy Kimmel.

Then through friends of friends we ended up at a party at Bar Marmont. In a well timed, moment of coincidence I actually knew the person having the party. The bar is gorgeous, the people are almost as ornate as the ceiling littered with butterflies, the bars are so skinny even a supermodel would have trouble navigating them, let alone regular folk.

Note that taxis are a rare phenomenon in LA with few recorded sightings...S