It's been a long day

 

Serena had her Starbucks bagel and I my Special K cereal (shoutout to the Special K reference for the fellas back at home)for breakfast. We headed straight to City Walk which was a short Metro ride away, and spent the morning exploring the traditional 'Merican sidewalks. We had lunch at the Hard Rock Café and after only a short while in the U.S I'd like to share with you something I've found deeply distressing. Waiters are not as they seem, they don't really care how you are or how your day has been and they actually don't like your sweater at all. They are working for tips. And their job is to give you compliments in the hope that you'll tip more. They are flirtatious and sweet and flash you killer pearly-white smiles, but really - they're the prostitutes of the hospitality industry. Serena looked at me like I was stupid.

Ok, that's Hollywood Bvd Hard Rock...for da lolz

Still Hollywood folks...but seriously, can you ever get sick of that view?

City Walk begins

Hey guys, guess what socks I bought? 'Merican knee high ones.

It's all terribly kitsch. But Serena and I dig it.

She's made entirely out of Rice Crispies. 'Merica.

'Merica

Cereal-box-size Nerds. 'Merica.

This is the Hard Rock Café. Love it.

That's Serena. I heart her.

This post title has some relevance - it's not just me trying to sound poetic and cryptic cause my life is so freaking fantastic in California. In California everything's fantasic. Serena and I headed to Long Beach, which is further down the West Coast, past Santa Monica and Venice beach. HANDS DOWN - IT IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BEACH I HAVE EVER COME ACROSS. No joke, I'm packing my bags and moving to California in two years. Not even kidding. Serena piped up and said that's good, I'd always have a job here, because, I quote; "a lot of people get shot in California". Period.

Things to note; there are palm trees everywhere in Long Beach, the sun is hot and people are always smiling. Everyone is so easy going and relaxed, probably because of the copious amounts of weed that people filter through their system. I'm not complaining. People roller blade, skateboard and ride their bikes along the beach, and come Friday and Saturday 'youngins such as myself flock to the white sand beaches for beach volleyball.

I have serious doubts that the photos capture the true beauty of the place

 

California. Le sigh.

The water is so blue and clear you can see the sand at the bottom

Guys. I'm moving. Dead set. It's happening.
 

There was a Tiki Beach Festival happening there Saturday arvo, so we wandered down and immersed ourselves in meeting locals, we spotted a Dutch Cookie stand and Serena introduced me to the sweet biscuits of her people. Bear in mind I was catching a flight that night to Boston, so we left at 7pm and begun the long transit home to Hollywood. It was funny actually, Doc found me at the station and it was bizarre to run into him again! He pitched to me his next big business money-making plan and made sure we got home safely. God bless the man - he's absolutely brilliant.

I think it's important to throw in here that our hostel is notorious for it's infamous 'Hostel Parties' in which they supply free alcohol all night, play trashy tunes and the strobe lighting almost induces epilepsy. Seriously. They stick these notes on everyone's door and their main selling point is; 'It's Saturday - it's Hollywood. Live your dreams!!!' Or for last night; 'It's Friday - it's Hollywood. Live your dreams!!!' Or even for the night before; 'It's Thursday - it's Hollywood. Live your dreams!!!'
You get the idea.
Now I never said that the parties weren't awesome - it's almost like they're SO BAD that they're actually good. Anyway, a couple of our buddies came 'a knockin and nek minnit we were downstairs, and by this time it was 10pm. I had a flight at 1.45am. The train of thought at the time was of course; "I'll just stay for a little bit..." I ended up becoming the guest of honour because I poured a lot of people shots of Vodka on me, as I had to give the remaining booze away. And the 'free alcohol' at the parties is always AMerican Bud Light Beer. Nasty stuff. You could drink it for breakfast.

After a drink or four it was 11pm and Serena was pushing me out the door because I was going to miss my flight, and what was more worrying than that, my dear friends, is that I didn't care. If I ever did half of the bold and exciting things I dream of, one of them would have been staying in California, taking my scholarship money and turning it into survival money for life-on-the-run. Of course I didn't so that, but it's nice to dream. Surrounded by all the people I had gotten to know, I really didn't want to leave. Hollywood had become my home, and the people my  family. I know that sounds dumb, but after 5 days, I had a routine, I knew my way round and I was giving other people directions. People at the hostel knew my name and hell, even locals at the bus stops would call out to me when I wandered over. Defying all expectations, I never felt lonely in California.

I get that there's a fair few useless palm-tree photos...but they're not useless to me, so sorry about the finger strains for having to scroll down

If it wasn't insinuated, I had better say it; truth be told I left the hostel party way too late and headed out to the Metro after 11pm, very tipsy. Made it to the airport on time, still tipsy. Boarded my plane, still somewhat tipsy and then slept like a baby, trying not to cry about the little Hollywood community I left behind.