Glam vs. Hardcore

"La Cienega just smiles..."
~Ryan Adams

After a grand deliberation and a sojourn in Los Angeles that has lasted 72 hours, I have come to a very important conclusion. Residents of Southern California, take note: there are only two kinds of people in Los Angeles– homeless ones and rock stars.

I live in a hotel, but I work at a record label, so I don't know exactly where exactly that puts me.

My new life in Los Angeles vacillates all day long between straight glamour and plain hardcore:

I wake up (late for a summer job) at an antique hotel in downtown Los Angeles, fill my hair with wax, put on black jeans and a concert tee, and head out the door for work.
Verdict: Glam.

I walk two blocks to the bus stop, getting called "senorita, over here," at least once, wait for the 720 Rapid toward Santa Monica, and get ready for my 45-minute commute.
Verdict: Hardcore.

I walk into the Warner Chappell building on Santa Monica Blvd in Beverly Hills, California, to my own desk, which came pre-decorated with band stickers and a stack of demo and unmastered CDs.
Verdict: Glam.

Lunch time comes-- I leave the office and walk three blocks down Santa Monica to the Mexican restaurant painted orange, where I order a veggie burrito and chill for my hour lunch break.
Verdict: Hardcore.

I go back to the office, ask my boss what album is playing and he tells me it's the new album from the label's top band, not in stores till July. The owner of the label walks by and signals me to the merch room, telling me he doesn't know what size I wear, but I can pick out as many shirts as I want.
Verdict: Glam.

I spend the afternoon on the phone with college radio stations, giving them my own extension number to try to set up on-air spots for one of the band's on tour now.
Verdict: Jury's still out, depends on who calls me back tomorrow.

Today at lunch I went to an interview for a job down the street from the label, at a shopping center in Century City. On my way into the interview, I walked past Doris Roberts-- the grandmother from Everybody Loves Raymond. First famous person sighting down... and from there it can only go up, right?
Oh, and one of the label's bands stopped by today, so that was cool too.

The crazy thing about being in Los Angeles (specifically right after living in Paris) is that in Paris, it's impossible to go anywhere without seeing something historic-- the place where Baudelaire used to live, a site mentioned in The Phantom Of The Opera, or the place where Resistance soldiers used to hide out. In Los Angeles, though, it is impossible to go anywhere without seeing something that I've seen in a movie or on TV, or read about in Rolling Stone or heard about in a Ryan Adams song.
On the way to work I pass the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, I cross La Cienega Blvd, Avenue of the Stars, Rodeo Drive and the MGM building, and I only take two streets to get to work. I can see the Staples Center (where the Oscars are held) from my bedroom window... Quite a change from my last room with a view.
All in all, living in the middle of Chinatown or not, this place rocks, literally?

Still a sucker for those famous faces,
B