You Can't Believe Everything You Hear, or Refuting Misconceptions about LA

"He's in California becoming someone else."

"He'll fit right in. You can be anyone you want to there, as long as you don't mid being stuck in traffic. -Boomsday by Christopher Buckley

When I first visited LA I was terrified to leave my friend's house.

As Craig Ferguson observed in his hilarious show, A Wee Bit O' Revolution, "I'm too fat, I'm too old, I'll be judged!" (though this was in the context of stepping out in San Francisco, which I believe is much more forgiving in terms of aesthetics.

I was afraid that everyone would be super skinny, or super fit, blonde, super tan, and extremely judgmental of those who didn't quite reach that elusive mark of so-called "perfection." And while this is true in a lot of Beverly Hills, it is not the case in a lot of the rest of LA.

I highly recommend coming out here so that you can hang out in Silverlake Junction and indulge in some fabulous gelato, peruse the bins at Amoeba Records in Hollywood, which isn't the Hollywood that er, Hollywood-the-Star-Machine tries to sell, or Santa Monica to really enjoy a true beach town. OK, Santa Monica is technically LA LA, but it is there and it is fabulous and I love it and I want to work there someday. Malibu isn't LA LA either, but that doesn't stop people from associating it with the Barbie Nation.

And in all these places and elsewhere yes there are girls that look like wannabees from the TV show, the Hills and guys who look they spend more time in the bathroom "grooming" than is socially necessary, but there are also very average people here. I am proud to say that I am one of them. Yes, there is a disproportionate amount of incredibly attractive people here, but I would say that there many people who don't fall under the "conventional" label of attractive, who are still very pretty to look at. For those of you whose appearance I stared at perhaps for a moment longer than was appropriate I am sorry. But wow, you were pretty.

In fact, a lot of those "perfect" people are a little freakish looking. There is something that is not quite "natural" about them. Sometimes it's really obvious- hello tan-o-rexic! Other times it's more subtle and then you realize that while her driver's license says 55, her face is trying to stay frozen in 1974. Ladies aren't the only ones to blame. I still have a hard time absorbing the image of the super "ripped" guys who are older than my dad (birthdate 1955), but are in better shape than most of my peers. Please, being a slave to the gym will not stave off mortality forever. Look at FloJo. (RIP FloJo)

Yes, the traffic still sucks, at most times of the day. But every once in a while one is pleasantly surprised that the rest of the maniacs decided to stay home. This is the inevitable outcome of building a city based on the automobile and not giving a fig about what we now call "sprawl."

Also, it's not all palm trees and movie stars. While I would love to say that I have met actor X and actress Y, I have not, and not for lack of trying. So far, no encounters with the rich and/or famous, but I spend most of my time in Silverlake and Santa Monica, where LiLo and Tom Cruise tend not to be.

The number of model/actress/waitstaff is unknown as I hate to pay someone else to make something that I can make myself and tip them to boot. But I imagine as long as the Dream Machine chugs along that there will be starry-eyed hopefuls trickling in every day and introducing themselves to tourists as "Hi, I'm Brittney, and I'll be your server today" until they get "discovered."

But the weather is temperate- one can visit the mountains, the beach, or the desert all in a matter of hours. Just goes to show that you can't believe everything you hear.

So as Interpol, the band, says in their song, "the Heinrich Manuever" "how are things on the West Coast?" I dunno, why don't you come out and find out for yourself? See you soon!