Week 10 or something

Well it's been a while since I blogged so it's up with fingers. A quick update, went to my first mechanical bull bar, complete with cowgirls and hard drinking guys who looked like Jon Bovi, circa Ally McBeal. ---------------------------------------- I also met an Oscar nominated actress at a press junket I attended a few days ago in Beverly Hills, I'm sure a bunch of other stuff happened, but I'm too cool to type it up all here. ----------------------------------------- Living out here now for a considerable length of time, to me anyways, my memories of London have become less and less and defined. Images that were like fresh paint, complete with smells, voices and feeling, have been reduced to just there bare bones, a feeling, nothing more than a hunch that such and such street was really like that, strolling in so and so park really felt like that. Memory is an odd, awkward friend, it's even started to play tricks on me here. ------------------------------------------------------------------- When I leave my Hollywood apartment block, it feels normal, Hollywood Blvd, feels every day, the golden stars stamped into the pavements as familiar as the cracks in the road of my local street in London, except now those cracks are buried, no longer visible, or with form. They've been replaced with seeing Hendrix, Walt Disney. -------------------------------------------------------------- Sunset Blvd has become an old friend, I know what's round the corner as the No2 Bus to PCH lurches round a bend, I have friends who call me for a beer, a landline phone, the Los Angeles Times cold call me to subscribe, I receive mail and even have a US dollar bank account. ------------------------------------------------------------- I've walked along the beach and watched the sun set and seen drug deals go down in a cut off car park in Hollywood, been lost in the night in Chinatown, walked up the wrong direction of Hollywood Blvd at 3 in the morning, drunk. I've had cocktail waitresses fuss over in expensive hotels in Santa Monica and Beverly Hills and bought a bartender named Joe a drink, who just found out his girlfriend is pregnant in a dark, old Hollywood dive bar. ----------------------------------- I have memories of this city that has had longer than any other place apart from London and my University town have had to etch images into my head. I feel I know Los Angeles. I know I don't, that the man who says he knows any city is a liar, but feel I know this city of Angles, yes. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- You only really know your in the desert, that at heart, this is still America's last frontier. Unlike New York, that is aged and learned, this is a frontier town, the desert to it's north, the mighty Pacific to it's back, a bottle neck of people coming in, trying to get out. You realise no-one lives here, there all trying to find Gold.