LA vs. NY: You've Been Served

Classically trained.

I was strolling with a friend after brunch (yes, people walk in LA...around The Grove) breaking down the different status items that define the social climbing ventures of the women in The Real Housewives of Orange County and The Real Housewives of New York City. How big is your McMansion? (Vicki's "Land of the Lost" inspired backyard grotto) vs. How big is your McCharity? (LuAnn's "Give Your day-old Gucci to Poor People" Party). In so many ways New York and Los Angeles are interchangeable and constantly compared. Both cities share a population of power-hungry, status-climbing, star-fucking, dreamers that shuttle to each coast to hang with whatever city gives them their next ego fix. Also known as Show Business. LA is an outer, outer, outer borough of NY, just northwest of its outer, outer borough, Florida; and NY is the Emerald City just beyond Bakersfield. There are definable priorities among the moneyed, consumerist elites of both towns. Sure, you need a fabulous designer bag in LA, especially if you’re a Second Wife of a Studio Exec that Lunches in Beverly Hills. In LA, no one cares about the name on your purse quite like the name of your yoga instructor, or Pilates instructor, or your Yogalates instructor. In New York, it's whose party you're invited to and who you're wearing. In LA, it's whose vacation home you stayed in and who rejuvenates your vagina. In New York, it's how expensive you look. In LA, it's how much money you spent to look like you don't care. What defines your social status in LA the most is who and how many serve you: personal trainers, stylists, shoppers, assistants, concierges, organizers, dog walkers, groomers & whisperers, spiritual readers, life coaches, relationship coaches, gardeners, estheticians, and event planners. How many people do you pay to ensure your personal well-being? In LA, there's an onslaught of professionals offering personal services. This all exists in New York, but I didn't feel its presence as strongly as I feel it in LA. Why? Because in LA, what else are out of work actors going to do after they quit? Sure, there's plenty of out of work or former actors in NY, but there's plenty of office buildings that need temps. In LA, once you spent a year in Coffee Bean with your laptop being your own "boss" and "writing" your script, there’s no going back to a 9 to 5 cubicle world. If you can't make a small business as an actor, you can make a small business of teaching actors how to make a small business as an actor. Or you can do this.

My Brief Guide to LA #3: Eastside Edition

I'm dedicating this installment of My Guide to LA to some Eastside joints I've checked out the past few months. So Westsiders, stop whining about traffic and gang activity circa 1998 and come on over! Or don't, our inferiority complex feeds our sense of superiority.

• Footsie's: Highland Park. I guess this is a dive bar. I've put some time into some serious shitholes in NY and I don't conside upholstered banquettes and well-thought out lighting design to be "dive-y." Great outdoor space, pool table, cool bartenders, cheap beer options!

• Verdugo Bar: Glassell Park. VerdugoBar has the same energy and vibe as Footsie's. The backyard is huge, and has beer hall style tables and benches. There's a BBQ the first Sunday of every month.

• The Thirsty Crow: Silver Lake. This is a brand new bar that specializes in bourbon and bourbon cocktails. It has a cozy, speakeasy style and definitely pulled me out of my wine and beer comfort zone. There's usually a food truck parked outside which brings us to...

• Grilled Cheese Truck : A truck of cheese-y, gooey, yummy-ness that travels all over LA.

Need to hit this weekend:

• Eagle Rock Brewery: Like the Brooklyn Brewery in NY, Eagle Rock's tap room is open to the public during the weekends.

If the Hollywood sign was in NYC

There's been a lot of news about possible land development west of the Hollywood sign. The latest new is Hugh Hefner decided to put buying another girlfriend on the back burner and donate money to prevent any development around the sign and the land will be turned over to Griffith Park. I'm shocked the land hasn't been developed already, at least into a giant parking lot. If you want to be a millionaire in this town, open up a parking lot. In New York, no one would let a chunk of land next a famous tourist attraction sit idle for a second. If the Hollywood sign was in New York, not only would the land around it be covered in "luxury" glass box condos, each letter of the sign would have it's own business:

• H=Starbucks

• O= Chase Bank ATM

• L= Duane Reade

• L= Ray's Pizza

• Y= Pinkberry or a Pinkberry knock-off

• W= Another Starbucks, in case the "H" Starbucks isn't convenient for you.

• O= Thai restaurant

• O= Nail Salon

• D= The sign is very big and quite a walk. You'll need another Starbucks.

And of course a new sign would have to be mounted on top of the Hollywood sign to promote its new owner: Trump.

LA Lessons #7: On time is early

When I first moved to LA I spent a lot of time before meetings sitting in my car on suburban streets in the middle of the day, waiting, like a pedophile. I had no idea how long it would take me to get anywhere so I erred on the side of caution or a potential three lane, 10-car fire on the 101, and left early for everything. I realized the time of arrival suggested on the GPS would only be accurate if everyone else in LA were eaten by zombies and it was only me and my trusty German Shepard in a fabulous townhouse. Speaking of GPS, never speak of a GPS to anyone who moved to LA at least ten years ago. They will all insist GPS is shit and it's Thomas Guide or nothing. Yes, my GPS has put me on some weird, inconvenient routes but I always got there and never rear-ended a car because my head was sunk into a giant book of maps instead of looking ahead. The aversion to GPS by LA vets is a middle-aged version of "when I was your age I walked uphill to school in snow with no shoes..." Now that I have a grasp of how long it'll take me to get to most places, I still find myself to be the first one there. I've sat at stand-up shows 15 minutes before they're supposed to start and it's just me and the busboy. I've walked into bars and restaurants five minutes past the time I'm supposed to meet someone, and still have to text the other person fifteen minutes later to see where they are. Traffic or not, lost or not, there's really no urgency to communicate an excuse or an ETA to the other person who is waiting for you. I think there's some general, unspoken rule that perfectly responsible, considerate people know and I haven't figured out yet: meeting times are only mark rough half hour windows of time and there's no need to apologize or acknowledge your tardiness as long as there's a chance of potential, unexpected traffic or parking restrictions.

Shitcanned-tivities #5: Obsessively Tear Out Recipes from Sunset Magazine...

then place each recipe in a 3-hole punch, clear sheet protector and organize them in a binder in the following categories:

• Fancy Salads I'll Only Make When Guests Come Over
• Fancy Meats I'll Try to Make When Guests Come Over
• BBQ I'll Actually Make When Guests Come Over
• Cutesy Baking Shit I'll Never Make Even Guests Come Over Because I'm Just Not Wired To Be A "Cutesy Baking Shit" Person. Ugh, I'd have to blow my candle and wine glass budget on tins and pans and Crisco and then there's flour everywhere...
• Booze

Right now, I'm now enjoying a Shaved Artisan Ice Pomegranate Mango Mojito Breeze with take-out.

Social Network Spring Cleaning

IF...

• I have no idea who you are and we never met...
• You live in a foreign country or speak a different language and I have no idea who you and we never met...
• You need to post everything you ever do during the day and I have no idea who you are and we never met...
• Your profile pic is an eight year-old black and white headshot...
• You posted way too much glitter clip art on my page...
• Your bar or restaurant closed two years ago...
• Your show closed two years ago...
• Your sketch group or band broke up two years ago...
• You last logged into your account two years ago...

I released you from my MySpace, Facebook, and Twitter accounts. Please don't take it personally, it's just all too much! I'm not really reading your status updates, tweets or looking at your pics. I'm not coming to your show because I live thousands and thousands of miles away. I'm not joining your fan group because we are equally not famous and unsuccessful, and I am not your fan, I am your peer. After cleaning out all the self-promotion clutter, it's so lovely to really see and appreciate the collection of real people that matter in my life: family, friends, former co-workers, teachers, and classmates, neighbors, performers and industry professionals whose work I actually know and love. So if you were able to see the Facebook status announcing this post, I know you and I like you and you matter to me. Don't get cocky though, everyone is one "Lil Green Patch" away from getting cut.

Goals

LA loves its goals. What's your plan? What do you want? How are you going to get it? What's your vision? What's your to-do list? What's your next step? Who do you want to meet? Are you holding yourself accountable? Are you a self starter? A grown up? Do you need to give someone else money to help you get your shit together? Do you need a goal group? Do you need a bunch of magazine cut outs of models, McMansions, and Oscars glue-sticked to a piece of cardboard to help get you out of bed everyday? Goals. Tasks. Progress. Forward movement. How are you spending your time in front of the laptop at Intelligentsia Coffee?! My goal this week is to actually prepare and eat the bags of produce I bought at Vons today. This time next week, I will not be scooping out brownish-green rot soup at the bottom of the fridge. Okay, so, Brussels sprouts, hmmm....