Tag Archives: los angeles

11.05.07 [Saturday]
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australia, comics, travel

hostels and comics that are free and otherwise

I’ve secured a lease on an apartment for Madame Holly and myself. And because of that I think I’m going to be able to start enjoying Sydney again. I’m not the kind of person who can relax and have fun with a big unresolved issue looming. On Monday though, I’ll move in and that’ll be a lot of worrying off of me.

In preparation for moving in, and because I’m going to be spending more time hanging out at Prosentient (but not working), I switched hostels today. The place I’d been at was out in Potts Point, near the King’s Cross subway stop, which was a longer trip into Ultimo than I would have liked.

I stayed at the Blue Parrot on John’s recommendation and I have to follow up with him about why he thought it was so great. Not that it was bad. It just didn’t generate any great allegiance in me. Most likely that’s because I didn’t really participate in the hostel-bonding experiences of drinking at whatever local bar dressed up as a national stereotype or dressed as a lady for free drinks or whatever.

The Blue Parrot staff were more friendly there than at the Sydney Central YHA where I am now, which is a much more professionalized hotel-like hostel (that charges for WiFi – boofuckingurns). But they also had terrible radio stations blaring in the kitchen all day long.

Enough about hostels.

Saturday was Free Comic Book Day and I went to a couple of places to see what was happening. Kings Comics had a 20% off sale (50% off back issues) plus the aforementioned free comic books. I picked up the paperback edition of Jimmy Corrigan the Smartest Kid on Earth and managed to refrain from buying anything else. This was kind of a big deal for me. I learned I’m actually two trades behind on DMZ and it took so much not to complete that collection. But something like that would have to come back to Canada with me to be fully useful. Jimmy Corrigan I can read here and possibly get Holly to read because it’s awesome, and if we don’t have room to bring it back to Vancouver it would make an excellent gift.

I also went to a Kinokuniya Bookstore. I know I’ve read that name before but didn’t know what kind of bookstore to expect. It was quite large and had a bunch of artists there for Free Comic Book Day, including a couple of indie zine-type self publishers. I bought a really cool black ink on black paper thing about Leviathan and Moby Dick and other fish. Once I get a few more zines and things the plan is to send them over to Caitlin at the Schulz.

Tonight I went for a walk around Darling Harbour, which reminded me of the Kowloon boardwalk where you look at Hong Kong Island (I think I’ve got those geographical references correct, but since I’m not paying for WiFi they are being written without fact-checking and I might forget to check this before posting it). The climate and general appearance of Sydney reminds me more of Los Angeles if LA was a walkable size. Despite the city’s expense, I think I like it.

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09.12.31 [Thursday]
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whining

fuck you 2009, i piss on your rotting corpse

The past few months have had really long days because of my frequent talking to people in places where it’s already tomorrow. I wake up and talk to Holly where she’s already had the day I just woke up to, then if we talk when I get home she’s home for lunch the next day. Keeps me falling forward in time. It’s 2010 in China.

I fucking hated the fuck out of 2009. This was the year my condo ate my life. The decision to buy was in 2008, but the badness was all this year. All the arguments and irresponsibility and hassle. The lack of sleep because of worry. The resignation to the fact that I made a really bad decision and have basically wiped out all the money left to me by all my dead relatives. Awesome. If you want to buy it, I’ll take offers way below the current asking price. Please. Let me out of here.

The best parts of 2009 predictably happened when I was far from the condo. I visited Caroline & Co (even though it was too early for Paisley to actually remember), went to Los Angeles, and of course enjoyed the hell out of my time in China (which it seems I never did write about extensively here).

I didn’t work anywhere and nothing of any interest happened at the places I didn’t work (oh right, I work in a cheese factory – forgot there for a minute) so “work life” falls neither in the good nor heart-shittingly bad parts of the year. The cheese factory did fund my escapes from the (utterly privileged) hell of thinking about the condo though.

My plans for 2010 are to feel way less responsible for this fucking condo bullshit. Also: Write something. Go to school. Watch some baseball. See friends get married.

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09.06.19 [Friday]
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food, music, travel

invaders from non-space

In Los Angeles there were hipsters. I will not lie to you. I also will not lie and say I saw these hipsters as invading some pristine unspoiled place that should have been “mine” since on the general local likability scale Tourists rank below Hipsters. I’m pretty sure. We don’t get many tourists here so I could be wrong. No, when I saw them invading some habitat like Clifton’s Cafeteria we were both invaders. My Dodgers cap probably branded me a Tourist though.

Clifton’s was a pretty neat place though. It served cafeteria type food (I had baked macaroni and cheese and a Boston cream pie with a glass of pink lemonade) and was kitschy as all hell. The main area (two floors) was done up like a wodsy area with a waterfall and smiling bears fishing and an animatronic raccoon (that only went in and out of its hole) and illegal Mexican balladeers. You know, like the woods. The third floor was all red carpet and chandeliers and stuff.

The hipster quotient in there was probably around 15%, with most of the rest being large familial groups. There were a couple of birthday parties too. Back in the Depression this place downtown was a pay what you can for all you can eat kind of deal. There was another one that was done up in an underwater theme closer to the coast I think.

The middle aged guy who was playing guitar and singing came around to our table (it was just Kate and me at this point because Tiago had to talk to someone about an apartment) and asked if we wanted a song. Kate asked for a specific tune and he sang (for more dollars than I would have paid but he’s got a lot of mouths depending on that money so whatever). He wasn’t very good and didn’t know all the words but with these Mexican love songs all you need is the same few words tossed in there: a few corazons and everyone’s happy.

After lunch we went to Olvera street which is the oldest inhabited part of Los Angeles. Kate had billed it as the oldest Mexican part of town and I think we were both disappointed in that aspect of it. It was stuffed with tourist junk and overpriced margaritas. But there was a good busker there at the end of the street, singing with feeling. I tossed her a couple of coins (were you aware that Americans have gold-coloured dollar coins too? With all sorts of different presidents on them? I had no idea) even though she didn’t need them like the guy at Clifton’s did.

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09.06.18 [Thursday]
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food, sports, travel, tv

watching the hockey

On Friday after Kate was done with her grading and meetings and stuff we went to a graduation reception for her friends in the MA stream of her program. I sat around awkwardly listening to people talk about grant money and human research subject forms and how all they really needed was to change a couple of words from previous applications to get them through. Ah science. The thing lasted an hour though with no sign of beginning, which was nice as I didn’t have to listen to people I didn’t know get recognized for their achievements and was free to munch on veggie wontons, but bad because this was the West Coast and the hockey game was soon to begin. Thankfully Kate didn’t feel bad about ditching it. One of the “to be honoured” guys told her to leave, that he wouldn’t be there if he didn’t have to be. So off we went.

We watched Pittsburgh and Detroit at a sports bar right near Kate’s apartment. Sat at the bar with the other hockey fans of which I was glad to find there were a handful more than us. Through the whole game I had to talk a lot so as not to let the tension build up too high. I really wanted to see Pittsburgh win and Crosby get his first Cup and if I was just completely focused on the game I would have died from stress. Marc Andre Fleury does not let me enjoy a hockey game. In the third period with Pittsburgh up by two Detroit was putting on more pressure and I realized the last three minutes were going to be insane. And then Detroit scored. If I had been at home I might have had to leave the room, but I was in public and forced to watch Detroit hit the post and Fleury make a couple of game savers in the last minute before cheering my fool head off.

One of the funny things about watching the game there was that just on the other side of Kate were two girls who were there to watch Pittsburgh win and just on the other side of me were a couple of guys looking to hit on these girls. They wedged themselves in between Kate and the girls in the first period but were shot down. Later on Kate passed on a note from the guys “to the blonde one, not the dark-haired one.” Eventually the guys left. There were a couple of guys in the bar wearing Penguins jerseys (with Crosby and Lemieux on the backs) and one of them had a black eye and a couple of cuts on his face. I thought, “Now there’s a hockey fan who’s also a hockey player” but it was Los Angeles and I am sure he could have found a good makeup person to do that to add authenticity to his ensemble.

I was glad to see Crosby lift up the Cup, and this was the first time in years I’ve watched all the subsequent parading the Cup around the ice (last time was probably when Ray Bourque finally won it with the Avalanche). It felt really good to see Mario out there hoisting it too.

After the game we were happy and Tiago picked us up to go for Thai food. Inexpensive delicious Thai food. Kate and I had made a bet beforehand and the loser was to buy dinner. I didn’t have faith in the kids, I’m sad to say (and when I say “the kids” I mean “Marc Andre Fleury”) so the meal was my treat. And well worth it.

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09.06.16 [Tuesday]
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travel

back from los angeles

There were things I didn’t get to do on this trip to LA. I didn’t get to see the Dodgers play. I didn’t get to The Edison for Tesla-themed classy times. We didn’t end up going to the Jazz festival thing.

But.

We saw theatres that were created in the Depression for maximum opulence (that went out of business within a year), ate cafeteria food, rode the subway, saw an inspiring collection of collections of amazing things, ate good food and ice cream sandwiches, saw Anonymous protesting Scientologists, heard three different “come to Jesus” pitches within an hour or two, met a guy who imports bulls for bloodless bullfighting, went to a hipster gathering and drank Pabst Blue Ribbon, saw the Bradbury building and graves of some famous people.

It was a great great trip. I will go into more detail as I go through my notebooks.

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08.12.13 [Saturday]
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winnipeg

windchill warnings in effect

Kate called from Los Angeles this morning. She was wearing sandals. I think I managed to stifle my squicky groan as I used that bit of knowledge how the “winter” outside Winnipeg can be to stab myself in the brain. The eye is part of the brain, right?

I hate the cold so very much. At work today Ivy said it sounded like the walking to work in the cold was making me bitter, but she missed the main point which is that winter itself, not whether I am walking to work or not, is what makes me hate. I really wonder what it would be like if I had grown up in a place where half the year wasn’t a constant war with the goddamned motherfucking elements. Where I wasn’t aware of the need to double up the fabric between mitts and sleeves so your wrists don’t die. What would my personality be like without this infusion of pain and misery every year?

I went to Quinzmas tonight only to be told that it was sold out. It was a 45 minute trip across the city (not the whole city) in the -39 degrees, directly after a 45 minute trip home from work in the -39 (but the wind then was at my back so I didn’t die as much as I will tomorrow on the way to work when it’s scheduled to be -47), only to have to walk out the fucking door and run to catch a bus that passed me. I did and so didn’t have to stand around waiting for a bus home until trying to get a connection. Still took another 45 fucking minutes though.

Needless to say these trips are glasses-less so my scarf can mummy me up and I expose as little skin as possible (and don’t have metal next to my flesh; just handling my keys to open my apartment direct from outside hurts), but that means I can’t see shit for finding buses. And Winnipeg’s cornucopia of different bus models doesn’t make it easy to memorize the smeary light patterns they make on my retinas.

I hate so fucking much.

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