Monday, May 01, 2006
California so far
I'm staying in Venice for now. So far I've gotten a Henna tattoo, had my belly button pierced, bought a huge bong in the shape of a penis, purchased an oversized painting of a peace symbol, stocked up on tie-dyed t-shirts, blasted The Doors music while rollerskating, and got my Tarot cards read.
But all of these amenities are at my fingertips should I develop the vomitous urge to make use of any of them.
What the hell am I doing here? It's like St. Mark's Place times a thousand, but with an extra helping of hippies and hobos. Oh, and strangers actually try to, like, talk to you here. It's utterly bizarre.
The reality of my trip so far (I arrived yesterday) is that I rode shotgun from the airport to Venice with my friend who just got her driver's license all of two weeks ago. It was a huge effort resisting the impulse to knock her out and take over the wheel as she either accelerated into stopped cars or drove ever so slowly, unintentionally veering into the other lanes of the freeway.
When I wasn't screaming in fear or silently gripping the dashboard, I tried to be supportive and teach her some little things about driving, like how to change lanes without causing an accident, or the one about how green lights mean "go" as opposed to "slow down and think for a second," which is what I think they teach the students in Driver's Ed classes out here. Oh, and the rumors are true: No one honks in Los Angeles. There must be lithium in the water or something.
I also ate chicken wings on the Venice boardwalk while some hippie acid casualty with track marks on her arms and an inside-out umbrella in her hand stared vacantly at us and laughed like a hyena from the other side of the outdoor cafe's ropes.
At this point I'm just hoping to make it back to New York in two weeks without any bad tattoos, white-girl dreadlocks, or an STD.