America, you are a dysfunctional ex-girlfriend.

Damnit America, you’re so hard to hate.

Here I’ve spent years slamming your shitastic culinary palette and then you completely blow my mind with one of the best Italian meals I’ve eaten in years and all for a whopping $11. I tried desperately to scientifically prove that your citizens are a bunch of gun toting inbreeds and low and behold the people who surround me at work are some of the kindest, most intelligent and OPEN MINDED individuals I’ve ever met. Never mind the fact that they exude that honeymoon period charisma which accompanies every move/vacation. Then you elect a Brother as leader of the nation. Do you smell that? It’s my mind completely melting.

America, I’ve told some nasty rumours about what a shit significant other you are to Canada. Now, I’m not willing to retract it all but somehow the one-sided nature has been diminished. I now see that we as a nation of submissive, snow-loving, maple syrup swilling, purely awesome Great White Northerners were complacent in this tainted relationship as we glommed onto you, the dominant power figure.

America, you are a loveble yet completely bat-shit crazy ex-girlfriend. You’re hard to hate, hard to love and you’re as complex as you are simple. Now that I live here, I’ll do my best to forgive. I’ll do my best to relish that which is good. And like any significant other, I’ll do my best to pretend that I didn’t notice that you took a massive stinky and seriously loud shit after we went for Indian.

America. While I’m here, I’ll light a match and smile and I’ll act surprised if you admit it.

Please keep proving me wrong.

-          Me.

PS. America, I know you took the coffee set we got as a joint gift. You know it’s fucked up but let’s let bygones be bygones.

Accodamnation

Life in a hotel sucks. Life in the hotel I'm staying in just began to really suck.

The paper-thin walls of the Econo-lodge on W. Washington Blvd. did not show their true nature until the wee hours this morning when I was awoken by the fevered sleep ramblings of my new neighbour. Previously, the room had been empty but now Bob the Mumbler had moved in.

4 am I awake to, "HUH! What? No.. Over there... over there, I said!"

Holy crap, it sounds like the guy is in the same room as me. I can hear every sneeze and murmur from his dumb face all night and at 7am he wakes up to evidently make something in his room's microwave. Apparently the door on said microwave needs to be slammed three times to get it to shut. I hope your oatmeal is good asshole.

Like any good neighbour, I return the favour by firing up the espresso machine I brought from home. This is the first morning I am using it. Last night after work I went to Trader Joes and bought a small thing of milk. Don't be fooled. My room has no refrigerator. I have to grab the thin plastic bucket they've graciously provided me with and get ice from the machine outside and I plunked the milk in that. Oh Econo-lodge, what amenity haven't you considered. You pamper me too much!

The good news is that I will hopefully hear back from Vanessa the rental agent at the condo complex I applied at. Should we get it and I most think we should I will have a proper working fridge. I will also have laundry, a gas range, a dishwasher, a swimming pool, a jacuzzi and a massive courtyard with outdoor furniture and free WiFi.

Suck it Econo-lodge.

Sony, 1000 People and Trader Joes.

I started my new job today and though I can't go into specifics let me just say that the company is a monster and stepping onto the lot through security that rivals an airport was interesting. There was so many people and three buildings... on our lot alone. There's several other lots and other buildings with hundreds more people all around. These lots are entire city blocks. Keeey-ray-zee.

At the end of the day I got to sit down in my very own seat rather than in another wing of the building where I was receiving training. I look to my right, Jeff Kim. I look to my left Matt Meyer. Jeff worked in Albuquerque with Graham Silva and Claus Pedersen. Matt worked at R&H with Dave Mah and Alan Rogers. Immediately I launched into a load of stories about the boys and felt a similarly immediate approval of friends of friends.

Then I take off to Trader Joes to buy a simple dinner. Something not deep fried and something with greens. Salad, olives, pita, humus, fruit and milk for the morning. Wait, what's this? Penfolds Shiraz? Isn't that $18 in British Columbia? $8!!!

Food cost $8. Wine cost $8.

Who am I? Steve Bond?

Haircuts, Sunglasses, Burgers and Freaks.

I took my ass down to Melrose Blvd. today to get a haircut before I start work tomorrow. I was going to a specific place where some tattooed freak cuts your hair but then I got sidetracked to a place that looked good right across the street.

Carlos, my hair stylist did a great job and was hilarious when he would respond to my stories with an extra flamboyant and campy,”Oh my gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawd. I can’t imagine!” What can't you imagine Carlos? Paying more than a $20 for a really good haircut?  Awesome cut. Entertaining conversation and like the budgie said,” cheeap!”

Then on to find sunglasses.

Chilli Beans on Melrose provided a great selection of big thick framed goggle like sunglasses. I found the ones I wanted and went to buy them. What’s that? 50% off. Double win mark it two-nil for Kwagmire, Dude. $75 sunglasses marked down $25 and then 50% off on the Black Friday special! 

On to find food.

I drove by the 50’s styled diner, Johnny Rockets and thought I’d go in to find out what it was all about. When I opened the menu I was shocked at how many burger options they gave. I guess hamburgers are an American institution but holy shit people, 30 different combinations? Never mind the fact you could add cheese, bacon or another patty to any burger. I sat down and ordered some food and after the first couple of bites the most horrific drag queen walked in. She looked like a mix between Bugs Bunny because of her massive front chompers (the only two in the mouth that I could see) and the ever-emaciated Iggy Pop. Those big ass chicklets front and center just stuck out ready to open any bottle or can that needs it. Oh oh, said crazy transvestite is walking over here dragging her floppy high heels. Oh thank god, she walked out the door. I’m a whatever turns your crank kinda guy but for some reason when crazy transvestites see me they are drawn in like a moth to a light. Maybe it’s my cologne, Gender Konfusion by Calvin Klein.

I then drove up to check out Hollywood Blvd again as last time was super entertaining. They were filming and had several blocks cordoned off so no freak show today. Too bad.

Woodsy arrives tonight at 6:44 to LAX so I’m picking his chump ass up and we’re heading out to dinner. He’s stoked I’m down here and so am I. We’re gonna tear this bastard up. Can’t wait to hang with him and Pete as it’ll be like old times only they won’t be sending me for coffee.

“Runner to Avid A. Runner to Avid A”

Edmundo, you let me down.

Edmundo. You renegged on your wheeling and dealing and thus are a dink-wad. Get on your burro and get he hell out of LA before I shot-put your ass back to Juarez.

I immediately went into action mode when Edmundo decided the chap from Wells Fargo bank was a better fit for the apartment. He actually still wanted me to rent it but at a higher price so he can eat his $2300/month asking price when that dude finds something else like I did. And Edmundo, I know I said I'd call you back and let you know either way but don't hold your breath amigo.

Within an hour I found another place. Though smaller it's nearly brand new and a two bedroom with a view of Los Angeles and Hollywood in the distance. You can actually see the Hollywood sign waaaaaaaaaaaaay in the distance if the smog isn't too bad. We don't have a personal deck but instead have a massive courtyard with wireless service and a communal rooftop deck open concept into the front room. There is a master with an ensuite and a second similar sized bedroom with another full bathroom. It's overall the nicest place I'll have lived in providing all goes smoothly with the rental agency. There's Starbucks, a post office, Vons grocery store and some other stuff within 100 yards and an easy 4 minute drive or 10 minute ride to work.

I'll be in the old Econo-lodge till probably Tuesday morning. My stay here can't end soon enough. As I told Adam, my master plan has worked. Stay in a place shitty enough to make you want to get out of it at every opportunity and you will more than likely find a place in record time. The picture below doesn't do it justice as all that grass has been covered in a new layer of thick manure. So while I love being greeted with a faceful shitastic sharticles when I walk out the door every morning I think I'll move on ASAP.

Edmund, we all know your real name is Edmundo.

I set up a bunch of appointments to view places today.

The first place was interesting but not setup right for our furniture. It pissed me off. I should rephrase that: It made me piss. Literally, the landlord let me alone in the three floor townhouse and I took a much needed back tooth floating leak. As I prepared to let fly with the door open I envisioned a stranger who was also viewing the suite walking in and seeing me hose out a Grande Latte and I quickly closed the door. I took an application “just in case” and hit the road.

The second place looked like a dream in the ad. It turned… WOAH, HOLD THE PHONE!

I’m writing this while at dinner and I order Veracruz style Ocean Perch and they just set it down in front of me. Sweet Mary, mother of god… it still has it’s head. The sumbitch is looking at me. This is delicious damn food. Best salsa I’ve had and it’s spicy. Amazing. I love you Los Angeles. Ola Senor Fishy. Prepare to meet thy doom!

Alright, back to the apartment:

I called and set up an appointment with the landlord, Edmund. Crazy thick Mexican accent. Edmund, we all know your name is really Edmundo. So the place was not as it appeared in the ad. Slightly more worn and much smaller than I thought and after busting my balls about being on time, the landlord showed up late. The bedrooms were big but the living room area and such would make it a tight fit. I expressed this to the landlord Edmund. In retort he told me there was another, larger suite available. Me wanna see, Edmundo. Vámonos!  muchacho!  The large apartment was well, large and $300/month more expensive. Let the haggling begin!!! By the time I left, I had talked him down in monthly rent, negotiated an 8 month lease and got him to skip the credit check. Hellz yeah. If nothing better shows up by noon tomorrow I’ll take the place and be done with this BS. It’s located right next to Vons and a mini-mall but there’s no real “walking” around the ‘hood. It’s right on top of the freeway and although you can’t hear it, it provides a certain noise when outside the apartment on the large and private rooftop balcony. As Edmundo told me, "There are beautiful ladies in bikinis who suntan next door". Way to sell, Amigo. In any case, Edmund was a righteous dude and very accommodating and the place was overall clean and large.

I then had the pleasure of viewing one dirty hacienda. I mean, this place made a gas station toilet look pristine. I rang the number and was greeted with Spanish which left me confused and decidedly Canadian.

“Ola senor, I’m calling about the place you have for rent on Hubbard.”

“Si, si you talk to my son. I get number.”

*phone goes dead*

I take a drive over to the address and my phone rings and it’s the person’s son that I had spoken to earlier. We arrange to meet 15 minutes later at the property. I figured a preliminary drive by would be a good idea. As I drove down the street my inner dialogue was as such as I viewed each house in turn:

“Good. Very good. No. Please god no.” and that pretty much landed me at the address.

It was pink. It was flakier than a granny’s heels. It had leaves all over the floor when I peered in the window. When Jose (his name, I shit you not) actually met me and took me in I almost turned and took off quicker than the Roadrunner. Here is my inner dialogue as I made my way from the front room through the narrow ass hallway and into the bedrooms and bathroom:

“What the shit? Did a hurricane hit here? Why are there so many leaves in here? Seriously, is this place really only 12 feet wide?  NO! This is the kitchen? This first bedroom is tiny it can’t be the master. Oh my god, there’s a cockroach in the fucking tub. This is the master? I’ll feign interest for Jose’s sake and then when I leave wash my hands in the nearest oil stained mud puddle.”

I may get my Hepatitis shot tomorrow.

So, in retrospect Edmundo’s place looks pretty damn nice right now. It’s about 10 mins from work on my bike if it’s can be ridden at all. Maybe a 15 min walk or so.  So like I said earlier, I take it unless a miracle transpires tomorrow morning.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering whether or not I’m dodging you all online… the server at the hotel is down aaaaaaand, this ocean perch was somewhat disappointing but I think this restaurant is probably  a hidden gem which just happens to not do fish that well. Maybe I just don’t like Ocean Perch. It tasted fresh but muddy. The corn tortillas rocked though.

I’m out!

Black Friday. Now that's just overt racism!

Block long line ups. Grannies elbowing kids in the face to get to the case lot of Mylanta. Bleeding children leap frogging one another to get to the new Xboxes.What I am doing? Not shopping! I'm trying to set up appointments to view apartments today.

Hopefully I'll reign one in by the end of the day or by tomorrow and I can move in immediately and stop staying in the shit box hotel I'm in. Not that The Econolodge doesn't off all the comforts of a third world country. I think the worst thing is the lack of a fridge. I brought a coffee machine with me but have no place for milk so I have to go to coffee shops in the morning. This might seem like a hassle but considering their WiFi connection is totally shitty at best it affords me the opportunity to actually get stuff done online.

I viewed a place yesterday and it was really nice. Americans you make everything huge including 2 bedroom duplexes. The neighborhood just wasn't suitable for my girls though. I think they can wait a few years before they roll with the Vatos in CXC13 (Culver City Boys). I even haggled with the lady on the lease terms. There's deals to be had in this crappy economy.