We followed the GPS’ purple arrows into Culver City, our modern, corrupted version of Yellow Brick not even Gregory Maguire could dream up.
Teddy pointed out the window at the formidable white building, fortified behind a tall, black fence. It’d only be less inviting if the wrought-iron was composed of ivory tusks, pillaged from a majestic, prehistoric creature, and curved outwards.
Don’t remember who said it, but there’s something about the quote, paraphrased below, that sticks like beach tar to fleshy foot:
“Self deception is such an insidious thing; not only are you lying to yourself, but then the lie covers its own tracks, so you never realize it existed to begin with.”
There’s something insidious about the breaking into the entertainment business. Glim and glamour lure like praying mantis pheromones, secreted in heat, right before the female lops the top and dines on dome.
I recently received the follow e-mail from someone looking for advice on where to live in Los Angeles:
Planning your move to Los Angeles can feel overwhelming. Below, I’ve tried to break down the process into digestible chunks.
Take on one piece at a time, and don’t rush or stress. Remember: This is supposed to be fun.
“It’s all about who you know.”
There are two steps for packing it up and moving to Los Angeles: the physical and the emotional.
A month before we left, a friend asked if he could tag along with us.
He said he needed out: out of Albany, out from his family, who had his back since forever, really. It was the reason he stopped trying in high school:
You’re moving your life away from family and friends.
You’re leaving the house you grew up in, the street where the school bus picked you up. Love or hate where you’re from, at the very least, you know it. And by leaving, you sacrifice your knowledge of the terrain, the edge of familiarity – so you better know why you’re doing it.