2/18/2005 12:34:00 PM|||Jonthon|||

I woke up, deaf. It was raining, so I showered. I didn't bring an umbrella because mine was too big. Everyone in LA acted like rain was hell on Earth. Strangely enough, 60 degrees and light showers doesn't bother me. If that's hell, sign me up. Apparently, that's the worst weather they've had in 7 years, or since 1995, depending on who you ask.
The first stop of the day was Paramount pictures. We toured the studio, saw a b-tank (parking lot by day, water basin for sea sets by night), spotted a few movie stars (still didn't care), and were allowed to take pictures in the designated area. We decided to pass on the freelunch at the Commissary, and headed out toward Costa Mesa for our afternoon visits. On our way out, they gave us some Paramount bags, fil-roll-shapped stress relivers, and M&Ms. Check me out:


It was a long drive, so we got to listen to some great radio, especially relative to any midwest city. I swear, 4 different songs using the vocal effect from 2Pac's "California Love" played in the course of an hour. I found it odd that some highway signs (the big ones that hang out over the road) had barbed wire wrapped around them.
When we got to Costa Mesa, we went looking for food. We pretty much had to decide on Mexican, since there were 5 of them in eyesight wherever we went (literally). My favorite was called "El Taco ntento." We ended up going to one that had brighter-painted windows, though. I drank some sangria and ate some delicious food. It was priced like any Mexican food would be here, too, btw. While we were there, a woman wearing an $800 suit showed up and started shaking hands. We never figured out who she was...
I bought a "La Opinion" outside when we left and read in Spanish about the appointing of Negroponte. It made no less sense, if you catch my drift.
We headed out to explore, thinking we might make it to the beach with the time we had left. We decided to try to to locate our next agency stop first. After three or four passes, we realized we weren't where we were supposed to be. We got a call from another group that was on the 105, headed for the beach. Then we got a call from the other group, saying they were already at the agency, and had moved our appointment forward an hour, to two. This was a common theme of the driving parts of the trip - the other vehicles would call our phones, ask us silly questions, display their absolute dependence on adults. We usually turned our phones off. Long story short, I end up on the phone with our LA alum president, who works at the place we are now rushing to. He guides us in, and then we guide the car of beachgoers in after us.
We arrive at Pacific Communications about 20 minutes late. They give us a tour, and in the process we find out that they advertise for pharmaceutical companies. They eventually showed us their creative masterpiece: an off-brand visine bottle wearing a purple cowboy hat. It looked tough.
I actually fell asleep during the client presentation. Since I was typically the one asking questions and keeping discussion open, it was really quiet. Since I was usually standing in the front, it was probably noticeable... No matter - though Scotty said they pay well, nothing would make that job worth it to me.
After that Scotty escorted us to P-11. He asked if anyone wanted to ride with him, and one of my group said "Jonthon will do it." Taking it like a dare, I yelled to Scott that I would, and branched off. In the car with him, he mentioned how hyped he was to visit P-11. He told me that 60 people were now scheduled to attend the alum event. We chatted about some other stuff. After about three calls from other cars, Scott mentioned that he could lend us some walkie-talkies. I wasn't a fan of the idea.
We arrived at P-11, which had guitar pics as business cards in the front. They work on flash animation, environmental design (building furniture, landscaping, etc.), and 2D design. The whole building was wired from a central hub that had 200-disc changers and XM radio hooked up to it. After showing us the entire building, we opened to a question and answer session. I asked a few questions about programs to get the conversation started. After I while, I interjected to ask what the CEO (the person giving us the tour)'s favorite band was today. He said it was a really hard question, and returned it. I said it'd have to be the Mars Volta, and that Frances the Mute was one of the best albums I'd heard in a while. He turned to the group, and said "this kid has good taste in music." After we finished, I stayed behind to chat with him, and got his card. They don't do internships because flash isn't something you really just jump into...but it sure looked cool.
After that, Scott led us to his house to nab the walkie talkies, which is where a nightmare would've officially begun had I been sleeping. We headed off fro there to a bar called the Yardhouse. Scott drove fast, admittedly, but the conservative driving of the other vehicles was also to blame for them eventually drifting outside the two-mile radius of the walkie-talkies, which I immediate and thankfully shut off. We parked and went it; Scott, a true hero, stayed on the phone and was able to guide them in...at long last. The Varsity Squad was there in time for happy hour, so we got some 2.75 draft from a bar that had almost every beer ever on tap, so it seemed. Enjoying my blue moon, I talked with Laura, Lindsay, and Katie about our day. We all agreed that other than the van clowns, everything was going pretty well. Eventually, everyone showed up, pissed. As I was the only one being friendly really at this point, I tried to smooth things out, seemingly successfully. Bars in Cali are much more manageable, due to the lack of smoking, but the crowd still makes me uneasy. Eventually, I headed down to our car to rest a little bit. Soon, other people did the same. Apparently, as soon as I left, the van crew went back to being playa-hatas. Anyway, we finally headed out, destined to leave the OC, which is filled with Bush bumper stickers. On the ride, I text messages Laura, who was sitting next to me, to say "I like your herr, neighbor" Kill Bill style. We started talking about Shannon, who had repeatedly mentioned that we spent too much money the night before for his taste, and that the last time it rained in LA like this there was a 300-car pileup. He said things like this regularly and repeatedly. Based on this and a host of other factors, I made the point that Shannon was actually an android - not a real person. This become an open, ongoing joke of the varsity squad.
We took the 405 and made it home without maps. V-Crew got spiffied up and headed back to Sunset. We went to a little sushi place right on the strip. I got a Japanese beer, and ate some of the best sushi I've ever had. It was low-lit, and had sushi chefs working in the middle of the narrow restaurant. Kind of a cool atmosphere. When we left, we took a walk down sunset. It was pretty damn cool. Afterward, we headed home to drift away to dreamland.

|||110947375721141209|||To Live and Die in LA 3