Los Angeles Chronicles #2
[1] There was a burning void that I needed to fill so while Sadam Hussein was being transferred to a prison, where he eventually was going to be hanged, I was getting ready for a date with Tommy. We met at the third street promenade and watched Last Samurai with Tom Cruise. He seemed neurotic and quite distant so I immediately fell in love with him. We would hang out usually on weekends with him telling me that he was not the right person for me and when he drove away to Santa Barbara for another week of his studies I sat on the bed and at my Santa Monica room and missed him terribly. I would call him before he even left the city limits just to talk to him for a bit longer. He always seemed cold but I knew that eventually he would be coming back. Finally, when in desperation I copied and pasted lyrics of Madonna's 'Crazy for you' addressing them to him in an email from one of the computers in the library, he suggested we should go for a trip. We drove to Palm Springs to visit Byran and spent a night at his house.
[2] While Tommy was still trying to decide whether he wants to commit to anything more serious or not I continued my voyages into the journeys of finding the real love from the local library just opposite of the dry cleaners. Amy kept refusing to let me use her washing machine, in fact she acted as if the machine did not exist, so every weekend I had to continue dragging the white basked full of clothes to the establishment located two long blocks away. And while my socks were getting dry I continued my desperate attempts of finding love on the computer terminal across the street. Sometimes I would also go for a walk in squares taking different combination of turns to eventually end up in the washing place only to do the journey again. Amy continued to smoke and my clothes continued smelling of cigarettes. That was not the only issue with the house. Apart from having to tell the Korean landlord that I was Amy's nephew from Turkey I also had to walk to a payphone located near the campus as Amy didn't have wifi and it would be too expensive to use cell phone to make international calls.
[3] There was another bedroom in the apartment and this one was occupied by Amy's daughter Zola. She was exclusively using the other second bathroom adjacent to her room while Amy and I continued sharing the one near my room. Amy would sleep either on the couch in the living room or in a makeshift bedroom in a closet underneath the building stairs. Zola at first was quite distant and kept referring to me as a student but eventually she warmed up a bit and called me 'Jack'. They did not seem to be close together. Amy was still very much Turkish, she watched her Turkish comedies brought by the satelite dish installed outside of the apartment while Zola worked in a local hospital and was all American. The father, now dead, was an American solider being stationed in Turkey and that was how he met Amy and eventually brought her to America. We had never talked much about him. On the first night after I moved in I showed Amy pictures of my father and seeing that he had a big of a belly, her eyes widened up, she smiled and unanomisaly declared that he must be a rich man.
[4] My Monday mornings start with a slow walk to school via the 23rd Street to eventually turn left into Pearl. That is the quickest way. I pass low leveled buildings or more like bungalows built for the veterans of World World Two which remind me of Wharton's sequel of the Birdy and my summer house. It's just before 8 am so still early and I am very sleepy. I passed by few school kids who with their mothers also head to their schools. My first class is a biology class at a newly build science building located just at the back of the campus. The teacher is a young Armenian, well built a PhD graduate of UCLA. He is a bit scary and quite demanding but I like him because he is one of those teachers that demands more from himself than others. After the quiz I get together with Emanuel, Ferdy and two other girls and we work on our lab assignments. No, we don't dissect frogs but we do play with samples of DNA. At the end of the semester we are going into the ocean on a boat trip to catch some sea animals and watch dolphins.
[5] Ocean is my magnet so whenever I get a chance I go there even if it's just between the classes. Mornings are very quiet and pretty chilly. There is something cool about being able to be on the beach and look into the side of Malibu. It sort of makes everything more real and enviable. I've also learned to go to watch movies by myself. Not that I want to but ever since I took Kevin to see the Dreamers he resists to watch any other independent movie with me. Ok, he did go to see me that movie about an Italian porn star but that was in Hollywood. Because now I consider myself working in the media world I insist on staying until the end so I can study all the credits. I look at all the names as if I knew who those people are. I almost got into argument with Tommy about it. He still doesn't seem to accept that my job is not a joke. He still keeps saying that we are going to work out. We don't really go out drinking but I like being around with him although his defensiveness can be really annoying.
[6] I talk to myself whenever Barry asks me to take his Toyota up to Burbank. It actually happened only once but I would like to make it into a recurring event. Anyway, coming back on the 110 approaching Downtown I almost hit a car stopped in the traffic in front of me. I was busy. Not just talking to one of me but to four combined together. I was busy and distracted and the argument was very heated. This is the theme here. It's actually pretty lonely and somehow tough especially compared to the comfort of the desert. People are sort of on the move and maybe not everyone has a time to sit down and talk. Maybe no one seems to care that much. Even Ferdy or Manuel eventually have to get on the bus and head back to Downtown LA. That's why I keep going back to Barry, Marilyn and their family. They're normal. Marilyn is a lawyer and they do say grace before the dinner. There's of course the ocean to remind me of why I came here. And that little luxury of Starbucks white chocolate mocha late at night when the musician is finally packing up.
[7] I want to walk around Santa Monica and take pictures and stories of the homeless people hanging around the Ocean Avenue. That's the part of the scenery that does not get included in the postcards. Barry thinks it's a good idea. He thinks that everyone is miserable and that if you looked at any car exiting the freeway you would only see a sad face. Barry is very distracted by everything and always forgets where he put his keys but when it comes to editing his focus is absolute. He sits in that semi lit room in the office in sort of semi-trans editing his clips on Final Cut Pro. He's also talking to himself, a lot, but his conversations are much more intense and fun and involve lots of characters. He records them and then mixes the voices with sounds and visuals on the screen. To Marilyn's concern, he doesn't seem to sleep much. One of his ideas is to have a mannequin greet you when you enter a room and play whatever show best suits your mood at the moment. Sometimes when he's bend over the keyboard I am not quite sure whether he is working or nodding.
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