Greetings from the late-afternoon LobbyCon at Gallifrey One. Since I arrived I have taken three terrible cab rides, gotten called in for a casting in New York, and reveled in the glory that is In-and-Out Burger. Mostly, though, I am jet-lagged and keenly reminded how much I do not get L.A.
I feel bad about that. A lot of people I know are from L.A. Or love L.A. Or at least get L.A. But me? I’m horrified. I don’t know if it’s an actors phobia, or the disconnect of growing up somewhere where cars are just not on the menu, or an acute reaction to the aesthetic difference between a 19th-century city (New York) and a 20th-century one. But L.A. and I are seriously, seriously not on.
And it’s not just that I’m out here in airport land. I’ve been to other parts of L.A. I spent a few weeks in Beverly Hills about twelve years ago working on a commercial, and I’ve visited friends in Bel Air, but no matter what part of L.A. I’m in, I find it depressing, like some world I am locked out of — whether by appearance or desire or just a general affection for actual seasons.
L.A. is, however, a good place, I find, for my particular brand of melancholy, although we all could have, perhaps, done without the moment when I declared during our one not terrible (despite its bad 90s rock soundtrack) cab ride, that there was a certain unpleasant irony in being at a Doctor Who conference in the land of Wolfram & Hart and feeling forced by the urban landscape at hand to contemplate my own mortality. Although maybe that wasn’t L.A., maybe that was just me missing the feeling of being dressed as Captain Jack Harkness.
Of course, as I told someone on Facebook after the Gogo Inflight finally started working again after I complained copiously about it online, just because I’m not wearing the coat, doesn’t mean I don’t still bring the magic. Although, I’ve gotta say, the jet lag feels like it’s taking years off my TARDIS-induced immortality.
Letters from Titan 
Try Tender Greens in Culver City — not too far from airport land and it is a great place with local protein and a variety of salads (which I understand might fit your food qualifications). Also, there are parts of LA that are not so bad. Venice Beach and Pasadena rank among them; worth a visit if you have the time. Also, the architecture on the UCLA campus is pretty lovely, and they have a nice sculpture garden.
I came frighteningly close to dying in a car accident while heading north on the 405; L.A. seems like a perfectly logical place to contemplate my mortality. :p
See you at Gally tomorrow. I’ll be working at Reg.
Every time I go to L.A., I am convinced, yet again, how much of an East Coast person, I really am. My first impression of the city was flying into LAX when I was 14 and wondering what that disgusting looking brown haze surrounding the city was.
I missed the verdant, in your face GREEN of the Mid-Atlantic and the clean, Golden Retriever colored sand of the beaches. I spent a day at Santa Monica beach, had fun, but was seriously unimpressed by the beach. It was too rocky, the sand was dirty (or just darker than the pristine sand of Va. Beach and Nags Head), and the water was cold.
Add in earthquakes, vampires, and an evil law firm and really, my desire to go to L.A. is nearly non-existent. I’d much rather go to San Diego (Coronado Beach is very nice) or San Francisco.