Madeline in La-La Land

I've been here for two weeks now- and I've decided that it's time to record my experiences, if for no other reason than they will begin to feel real. So far, I've found a place to live in the Valley, my landlord is a steadily working voice-over artist who does the voice for Jimmy Neutron and was the body double for the boy in Free Willy, and I've found a day job working in marketing at a print and copy shop- also in the valley. Both of these things were found through the kindness of incredible people who have taken me under their wings. The apartment was found by the lovely Sarah, the matriarch of my family away from home, especially for my first week in LA, during which they lent me their couch to sleep on and gave me endless advice on where to live, what to do, where to see shows, and how to feel less overwhelmed at this monumental move. Did I mention they also got me about 4 babysitting jobs? The print job was found by the head of a rehab center where I once volunteered. You know what they say- it's all about networking.

So- instead of giving you a play-by-play of weeks 1 and 2 (here's a snapshot: crying, apartment hunting, babysitting, seat filling for the network telethon "Stand Up to Cancer," crying, apartment hunting, babysitting...), I'll muse a little bit.

I looked up the phrase, La-La-Land online, because I thought it was cute slang for Los Angeles, but wanted to make sure, so people did not think I'd had a quick change of heart and gone to Lala, Iran or a small gift shop named LaLa Land in Southern Illinois. As fortune would have it La-La Land, is indeed a pet name for Los Angeles, and this pet name was further elaborated on below:

1. Los Angeles, California (often abbreviated L.A.). This expression pokes fun at the alleged eccentricities of the city's inhabitants. For example, What do you expect? Frederick has lived in la-la land for ten years and it has rubbed off on him. [Slang; c. 1980]

2. A state of being out of touch with reality, as in I don't know what's going on with Amy--she seems to be in la-la land. [Slang; c. 1980] Also see cloud-cuckoo land; never-never land.


As I read this definition on "Answers.com," after being embarassed that I no longer own a dictionary (I left it on the East Coast, with my book-chic scarves and glasses), I thought about how well this anonymous online dictionary writer captures this strange (strange) new place where I now live.

Now, as I am prone to do, I shall elaborate:
- This expression pokes fun at the alleged eccentricities of the city's inhabitants.

Yes, this city is allegedly quite eccentric. But the strange thing is, unlike a lot of geographic stereotypes, this one is true. Everyone here is crazy. But the strangest thing of all is that everyone acts as though they might not be crazy. Everyone has an air of importance, an air of authority, an aura about them that makes you look twice and say-- is this guy hitting on me in Starbucks because he's a little off-kilter, or because he's actually Quentin Tarantino? Isn't Quentin Tarantino a little odd-looking? I sort of remember his nose....and I wouldn't want to be rude to Quentin Tarantino....
I've not met Quentin Tarantino yet, but I have been accosted by several strange men who feel the need to tell me about their writer/producer/director/musician careers and their websites. Then, tell me what a great "look" I have and give me many encouraging words about how I'm going to make it as an actress. Somehow, I feel compelled to lie to these men, telling one of them that I was married, and telling the other one that my boyfriend is a 24 year old screenwriter who lives in LA and works at a different Starbucks.
[My boyfriend is a 21-year-old playwright who lives in North Carolina and is much cooler than any of my alias boyfriends.] It has become a problem in my work schedule, because I go to these coffee shops with the intention of working and using their free wireless, and I am accosted by crazy people, who, in the fashion of crazy people, do not stop speaking to me until I leave, computer in hand, one email written, if I am lucky.

The second, less specific definition of "La-la land," is, of course "a state of being out of touch with reality." This is also true, since this is a town of crazy people pretending to be famous people. And, of course, I'm now a part of this machine. I found myself quite flattered when a vaguely European "producer/writer/director/musician" in a Coffee Bean compared me favorably to Marilyn Monroe. I think the words actually crossed my mind, "I'm really gonna make it here." Forget foreign oil- this is a city fueled by compliments. And I'd pay $3.95 per gallon for some good compliments any day.

In my Craig's List Quest for an apartment, every possible roomate that I met swore that they were "in the industry," from 65-year old woman who came to the door wearing a wholly transparent shirt to the indecipherable Korean woman who told me that I could rent from her but must tell the building's landlord that I was just a visiting friend. The man renting out a room on his estate in exchange for "light housework" was not in the industry. However, I also had the sense that he was not being entirely truthful about his motives for renting. (Did I mention he only wanted female tenants and require a picture with all responses?) He was also very vague about his occupation, saying that he did "some different kind of work here and there."

Speaking of La-La land, that's another thing that I've noticed- people have very odd answers when you ask them what they do. They often answer this question with such enigmatic responses as "What I am doing now, you mean?" or "I do some writing, some producing, some directing...I'm in a web series....," or the simple, pitifully true statement, "I don't really know."

Which is where I suppose I am. I work at a print and copy shop, yet that's not "what I do." I write emails, desperately trying to network, yet that's not "what I do." I hope and I dream and I plan for a joyful future as an actress, but I'm not comfortable telling that to the guy with the ponytail at Peet's Coffee. So, it's a hard question to answer. And that's part of the magic of this place. It's a city of people hoping for something, working toward something ultimately uncertain and often unlikely. It's a place filled with people who never grew out of their childhood dreams of red carpets and fabulous clothing and applause from all angles. In this way, it's an incredibly indulgent town, a town filled with people who want something for themselves. In this way, despite its reputation for superficiality, it's also a strangely, honest and vulnerable town.

And even though sometimes it seems like "never-never land"-- like you'll never make it big, never stop living paycheck to paycheck, never feel settled or happy or fulfilled, there's something just human about Los Angeles. Just wildly, absurdly human. And I like that.

The last definition of "La-La Land" was "Cuckoo-Cloud Land." I don't understand that. It is never cloudy here.

So, until next time,
signing off,
the writer/producer/director/musician/look at my website,
Madeline