I felt a rare passion for the game. Rare because I never cared about it before, not because I have a clue what’s going on, or because I care who wins. It just represents something about the USA that I seem to be excluded from and want to be in on.
I have changed, I realise. The last time I was in South Africa, as much as I love my homeland, I felt like I didn’t belong among my pregnant, married, and increasingly suburban friends. I have missed having what they have – I’ll never share it with them… I have missed that bar stool forever. And coming back, I felt… like I didn’t belong. Among my 22-28 year old American friends. Cause I’ll never be that young and sure of myself again.
So I bounced around my apartment reading books with jetlag for a day, then got sick, then went to Sundance, came back still sick, and made plans with a friend to watch the game.
Now. I have this thing that I can’t give up. I should but I don’t. I think it’s a major qualification for MAKING MOVIES, which is my new job, so probably a good thing, apart from the fact that it hurts so bad.
So I googled for a while and found a bar 2.5 miles away and walked there, alone. I thought maybe there, I’ll connect with someone who like me wants their life to explode, who wants to connect, who is a grown up but also can’t stop growing. I set out walking.
The sky boiled with rain above me. As I passed men walking I realised how much the world has changed for me since I was like… 25. I used to know that when men looked at me it was lust. Now, they still do. But is it lust or curiosity? “Why are they so big?” “Why is she still alone?”
Proof that people are assholes. And that dogs are gross, basically.
Somebody died at this bus stop on Normandie.
I feel sorry for myself sometimes but wtf. I have slept in worse places, in hotels that offered worse, but never owned a mattress this bad.
A hostel / gallery thing of some sort. I wanted to check it out but I think it was closed for superbowl.
I arrived. It was a bar full of people who were nice to me but hey… they had their friends already. And my team was losing so hopelessly that i left before half time and after a half pint. Broncos! Sigh.
Chickens! For some reason there’s a display case full of them. My mom eats, keeps and is obsessed with chickens – she even collects chicken shaped things that have some function apart from being… chicken. Is she secretly Korean? Or just a bit creepy maybe. She might be. We are related.
Walking home on Western. It’s the shortest route. The sunset was a sad one and I felt like the only living girl in LA.
The Wiltern. If I have a film company in the US one day, I want offices here.
Once were video stores. Am glad that was never my dream.
This is like a blast from the past. But in the USA, you can still advertise drugs. A superbowl ad pushes military service and Budweiser. Fucking sinister, in my opinion.
I spotted about 8 coffee places I never noticed before. All within .5 miles walking of me. Google maps sucks compared to actually being there. This good, for me.
Some history at a traffic light.
See the guy on the left in the photo? He followed me all the way home. I felt he was non-threatening, cause he kept his distance. I realise now he probably did it cause he thought I was taking pictures of him. But I didn’t even notice him at the time. He’s one of the many homeless people living along Olympic Boulevard, named to celebrate the 1988 games.
I figured out just yesterday how to sneak on to our building rooftop. Every time I feel sad, it helps to go there. So that’s what I did tonight, and here is what I saw.
Total walking today: about 5.2miles. Whenever I can, I walk. I see the world differently that way.
When all else fails, work. That’s my plan and I’m sticking to it.