Week 9 (and a bit) - La La Land

When I think 'Los Angeles', I think: wild parties, Harley Davidsons, Playboy Bunnies, sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll - all meticulously pardonned under the banner of 'Hollywood'. Drink-driving is the norm, veganism is the staple and the paparazzi are like contageous festering sores on the sidewalks of the hotter-than-hot hotspots. This vast, celebrity playground of almost 10 million people is home to screen legends, television stars, actor wannabees, and has beens who never really were.

It's a city where anything goes (which is just as well for the magazine moguls who'd be begging on the streets if it weren't the case).

I flew in to San Diego on Tuesday to meet up with my new Scottish friend (my sister's best mate) who recently moved to the USA after marrying an American. Like me, she is finding it a little challenging to make friends because she is not working and cannot do so before her visa is processed. Also like me, she LOVES a good time. It was obvious from the outset that our Thelma and Louse style trip to LA was going to be one to remember. But first, the Turducken.

The Scott and I were very excited to be spending Thanksgiving in the home of an American family. We baked a cheesecake for the occasion and spent four and a half hours breathing in the exciting aroma of Cajun spices as our chicken stuffed in a duck stuffed in a turkey roasted in the oven.

Our American family of about 20 people welcomed us to their feast which, to me, looked a lot like Christmas dinner but without the plum pudding. And like Christmas dinner, we all became victims of a turkey-induced coma, having to force down rich desserts to kick-start our systems with a sugar rush. The Turducken verdict? You MUST try.

Apart from not having a work visa, The Scott hasn't yet been issued with a license to drive her gorgeous new black sports car - a wedding gift from her husband. I was only too happy to help out by playing driver for the weekend, while she navigated. I was also pretty damned excited to rip up the LA freeways at 80 MILES per hour. Woo hoo!

We arrived in LA with a crazy idea to commit all of the Seven Deadly Sins during our three-night stay. But after we covered two of them within 30 seconds, we knew we needed a greater challenge. Breaking the Ten Commandments were quickly struck off the agenda because neither of us was up for "thou shalt not kill". So we decided to stick with "anything goes".

I should mention at this point that The Scott is a model. She's gorgeous. Her Kate Moss looks turn a lot of heads and she likes to step outside the boundaries. Perfect.

Dinner on the first night was with a couple of friends at a swanky, over-priced restaurant called Sona. Morsels were the feature of our degustation menu and after the first serve, we knew the night would end with burgers at a nearby diner. We said goodbye to our friends at about midnight then walked up La Cienega Boulevard to find a bar that had been recommended to us. We stopped at a club along the way to ask a very helpful doorman for directions who concluded his instructions with, "be careful ladies". Should we be worried? I mean, "ladies" makes us sound so old! The bar was not up to our Hollywood standard so we cabbed it to a very cool bar at The Standard where we met a couple of French guys who were in town buying classic Porches to on-sell in Europe. We invited them to join us at what was possibly THE best bar I have ever been to, Chateaux Marmont. We arrived at the Chateaux at 1.35am to be told that the bar had stopped serving and that the joint closed at 2am. Huh? 2am? There must be some mistake! There's NO WAY that Nicole Ritchie, Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan could have been arrested at 2am! Sadly folks, it's true. Unlike the highly addictive 24-hour buzz city of New York, Los Angeles sleeps from 2am. After some gentle persuasion, we were allowed in for the final call. The night ended, of course, at a retro diner called Fred's 62, on Vermont Avenue.

Fortunately, there are plenty more things to do in Los Angeles than hang out in bars waiting for them to close. The Scott and I did the homework for you and can highly recommend these for your next visit:

• The Gun Club - here we shot off a round of 50 with a 9mm pistol. Can't wait to do it again!
• Brunch at 101 Coffee Shop on Franklin Avenue - kinda makes you feel like you're on the set of the opening scene of Pulp Fiction, but no one gets shot.
• Dinner at Cafe Stella on West Sunset Boulevard - very cosy and cool French restaurant. Met an Aussie actor/waiter who has just moved to LA from New York who said that LA is far more competitve than NY for actors. Go figure!
• Visit the Millenium Biltmore Hotel - this is where the Oscars was first held. Check out the stunningly ornate foyers and ballrooms, and make time for a cocktail at the bar.
• Stop by The Pleasure Chest on Santa Monica Boulevard - as the name implies, it's a sex shop! Two floors of toys, toys, toys and DEFINITELY 'XXX' rated. Leave the kids at Disneyland.
• Grab a Thai Massage - anywhere that looks dodgy is likely to be authentic. Worth the investment after a weekend of indulgence.
• Drive up to the Griffith Observatory - remember James Dean in the knife scene from Rebel Without A Cause? Stunning view of the sprawling city.

If you do go to the Observatory, note it is closed on Mondays, something we only discovered when we arrived. Lucky for us though, we stumbled on a movie set! We watched Jim Carey for a while as they shot scenes for his new film "Yes Man". On that note, we left LA for San Diego, then home for me to New York.

To quote Madonna:

"...Los Angeles is for people who sleep, Paris and London baby you can keep...I love New York"

Until next week,

Kaylie

Week 8 - Tomaytoes, Tomahtoes...

Like most Australians of the television generation, I grew up on a healthy diet of English and Aussie shows: Bill and Ben; Noddy; The Wombles; Playschool, Skippy; Cop Shop; A Country Practice; The Sullivans; and the early days of Neighbours. It was an era when on-screen Aussie language and humour was experimenting with its own identity, but still genuflected deeply to its UK ancestory.

Then something interesting happened. A strange new language and way of life was beamed into our lounge rooms. It was... American. Suddenly, boys in my neighbourhood rode their bicycles like they were 'the Fonz' from Happy Days. My entire Year 5 class was hooked on Welcome Back Kotter. And for a short while, I tried speaking with a lisp because I thought Cindy from The Brady Bunch was cute. Which she was. But I wasn't.

With such a strong educational background in American culture, you can understand why I felt so well prepared to take on the streets and peeps of New York. Heck, I've heard it all. I know my rubbish now goes in the 'trash'. I know that when I dine in restaurants, an 'entree' is like an Australian 'main'. And I know that when my fringe starts to dangle into my eyes, I just head on down to the hairdresser for a 'bang trim'. Yep. There isn't a single Americanism that could stump me. Except, maybe, for 'Turducken'.

This week is huge in the USA, with Thanksgiving to be celebrated on Thursday in every home from coast to coast. Family members travel from everywhere to spend the day together gorging on festive food and sharing in the spirit of togetherness. Me? I'll be spending the day with a friend in San Diego where we'll be joining her friends for some fun and Turducken.

Now, I have to be honest, when this word was first mentioned to me, I got a bit excited because I thought it was a new swear word that I could add to my trash vocabulary. Instead, I'm told, it's a chicken stuffed in a duck stuffed in a turkey, with lots of stuffing! How about that. We'll be dining on a bird orgy. And just in case that's not quite enough indulgence, my San Diego gal pal and I will head to LA for a weekend of fun and celebrity spotting.

Speaking of which, I know you may be curious as to why I haven't spilled any stories about celebrity spots in NYC. Truth is, there haven't been any that I didn't pay to see! But I did have a couple of little showgirl treats this weekend that are worth sharing.

On Friday night I frocked up and took myself to see Broadway legend Chita Rivera in cabaret at Feinstein's. I was smart enough to bat my eyelids at the concierge when I arrived and as a result, scored myself a table that licked the stage. I felt so honoured to be literally two metres away from the energetic 76-year-old belter who sang and moved like a 20-year-old Broadway hopeful. The highlight? Hearing the best cabaret arrangement I have ever heard of "All The Jazz".

Saturday night was destined to be one to remember, and it was.

PART ONE. A dear friend of mine in Australia put me in touch with a New York film-maker, Rick McKay. I am pleased to say that one of Rick's documentaries is one of my all-time favourites - "Broadway: The Golden Age" - a film about the rise of Broadway theatre, as told by the performers and composers of the day. Rick invited me to a 'friends and family only' rehearsal performance by recent octogenarian and longtime Broadway legend, Barbara Cook. So on Saturday evening, I met Rick for the first time (in a cab!) and we headed downtown to a tiny black-box studio space. Rick introduced me to Barbara before we joined the other 30 or so guests. For Barbara, this was just a run through with a trio of piano, bass and drums in preparation for her two performances this week with the New York Philharmonic. For everyone else in the room, it was a privilege.

PART TWO. From this once-in-a-lifetime experience, I headed back to 21st century reality in Soho for a night of cocktails with a Canadian friend of a friend whom I also met for the first time that night. We spent the night at a couple of bars, desperately trying to outdo one another with tales of the most ludicrous life experiences we have ever had. My 'part two' night of debauchery couldn't have contrasted more with the first part of the evening if I tried. So if you're wondering why this week's blog is a little later than usual, blame the coctails.

The Canadian reckon's there's no such thing as a Turducken, which either means that Canadians speak a whole other language again, or someone is having me on. Either way, I am so happy to be spending this week's Thanksgiving holiday with an American family in the USA.

Until next week's California correspondence, Happy Thanksgiving!

Kaylie

Week 7 - Opportunity for adventure

Have you ever pondered the question, "If you could be anyone in the world, who would you be?"?

There are so many rich and famous people that seem to have it all. Money and everything it buys, success, exciting lives, famous friends, endless opportunities... and to top it all off, happiness! Who wouldn't want that?

I mean, imagine being able to live a life where every day presents an opportunity for a new adventure. A life which, at the end of every day, you feel like you've done something new. Or you've opened your eyes wider than ever before to the great things this world has to offer.

My nearest and dearest friends know that I love my life experiences to be colourful and spontaneous. A classic example was nine years ago when, after dating for a few weeks, I announced that I was getting married:

• Me: "I'm getting married - next month!"
• Friend: "You're seeing someone???!!!"

OK, so that little adventure didn't last as long as I originally thought it would, but it complied with my motto, that: "every girl should have a story". I could list several other far more eccentric illustrations of what I mean by that, but mum and dad are reading this blog. (insert smiley face here!)

This week I was reminded that opportunities to engage in new experiences surround us everyday. Sometimes we miss them because they knock softly. Sometimes we'll cautiously take a peek before slowly revealing the full picture. And at other times, we open the window with great excitement only to shut it as quickly as possible.

A few days ago I had lunch with a friend, a married male friend. Within five minutes of being seated, he told me that he and his wife of about 10 years enjoy an open marriage. I suspected that this was his invitation to me to try something new, but I played dumb for a bit longer (re blog: Week 3 - Blonde, the new legal tender?). I asked "does your wife know you have an open marriage?"!!!!! Well, apparently yes. I was, of course, curious to know how it works. He explained that they're married, but they have agreed that each can engage in extra-marital activities, whenever and however they choose. I also asked whether this lifestyle is common in New York City as I have met several guys who only reveal to me that they have a partner, AFTER I have told them that they don't have a 'future' with me! Fear not my single gal pals. According to my friend, this is not a sweeping phenomenon. Phew. There is hope.

After lunch I headed back to my apartment and again phoned the CEO of the company for which I am most keen to work. I was told by her assistant that she would get back to me after Thanksgiving. Now THIS IS a sweeping phenomenon. No one in New York City is committing to ANYTHING before Thanksgiving in two weeks.

How could this situation possibly present an opportunity for a job seeker with less than six weeks remaining on her visitor's visa? I am going to book myself a little getaway. New Orleans? Miami? Jamaica? Haven't quite decided. But you know I'll have a story to tell when I get back!

So, who in all the world would I most like to be? I mean, whose charmed life most closely matches the life that I want to live? The answers are and will always be a resounding "me" and "mine" .

Until next time, when you're walking down the street remember to look up at the sky. It has far more potential than the pavement.


Kaylie
Oh yeh, you want to know what happened to that little adultry window of opportunity? Shut. Quickly. Locked. Threw away the key. Not my thing, but it was nice to have been considered!

Halloween, Hairdressers and Hobos

I knew before I moved to New York City that October 2007 was going to be a scary month for two reasons: one, I would celebrate my first Halloween; and two, I would have to find a new hairdresser.

HALLOWEEN
For those of certain religions, Halloween celebrates the eve of All Saints Day, which was formerly known as All Hallows Day. For those of other religions or of no religion at all, Halloween is a great excuse to dress up, trick-or-treat and if you're old enough, get pissed and party.

The celebrations in my neighbourhood started early in the day with folks of all ages dressing in costume and rather entrepreneurial teenagers trick-or-treating in the shops along Broadway (bakeries seemed to be pretty popular). Jack-o-lanterns (hollowed pumpkins), cobwebs, witches brooms and other ghoulish items decorated building stoops. And in my secure doorman building, a note was stuck to the inside of the elevator letting everyone know which apartment residents were going to be home to greet the kids and fill their plastic pumpkin buckets with candy.

I had been told that 'the' place to be on the night of Halloween was in Greenwich Village for the 34th Annual Halloween Parade. I didn't have a costume but I figured if I was asked, I could fudge it as "an Australian tourist". I took the subway downtown and was an instant spectator to the few floats and many costumed party-goers parading up 6th Avenue. To me it was like gay Mardi Gras, but for straight people. Quite a disappointment, but I was happy to be able to tick it off my "list of things to do before I die".

The evening's highlight was stopping by the very famous Gray's Papaya on 72nd Street for a takeaway hotdog. I enjoyed my dog so much, I almost walked five blocks back to get another one! But I refrained, at least for the next two nights when I returned for another fix. Mmmm... how can sodium taste so good?

HAIRDRESSERS
Every girl's impossible dream is to find a hairdresser that consistently does a great job and stays with you for life. Leaving my Perth stylist Sarah was slightly traumatic, but I figured that if I was going to find a good hairdresser anywhere in the world, I'd have a good chance in New York City.

I also knew that my NY friend and former Perth girl, Sandra, would be a sure bet for referrals. And she was. Sandra has worked in the modelling industry here for more that 10 years so knows a thing or two about the best places to go. Also the most expensive places.

Having Googled her list of suggestions, I chose a hip looking salon on 57th between Lexington and Park Avenue. With my colour codes in hand, I headed there a week ago on a reconnaissance tour. You know, to make sure they met my standards. Satisfied with my consultation, I scheduled my appointment and psyched myself for my new look. The result? HOT. I did freak out when 'Dina Scissorhands' sliced 3 inch pieces out of my crowning glory, but you know I love a good balance between rock chick and diva glam. The weird thing was tipping! Unlike restaurants where you add your tip to the bill, tipping a hairdresser is done via cash in an envelope. Kinda like Chinese New Year, but yellow envelopes instead of red.

HOBOS
This week was one of the first in ages when I gave myself reason to question my morals. On my way to the yuppy Meatpacking District for dinner with the doctor before he left for California, I was approached by a drunken hobo. "Sshhllll...scuse me m'am, hhaave you got some money I caannn have to git shlome food?" Without hesitation, and in a broad Australian accent that would have made Kath and Kim sound like the Queen of England, I said, "Nah, sorry mate. I'm unemployed." I couldn't believe what I had just said! I mean, it was absolutely true, but c'mon, I'm going to dinner in one of New York's trendiest districts! What was I thinking by making a comment like that? I felt a lot better about it when the doctor paid for dinner. Oh, and for the cab home. It's nice to be treated occasionally when you're , ah hem, out of work.

I am officially half way through my 3-month job search stint. I did make slight progress this week, but nothing major to report at this stage. There is a reasonable amount of work around but I am being very specific about the type of work I want and about the companies I am targetting. THAT'S the challenge! So keep those fingers crossed and I promise I will have good news soon.

Until next time remember, the future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.

Kaylie