This past weekend I was lucky enough to travel to Los Angeles, California for a conference. While just a few hours away from Florida, I felt as though I was in another universe. Whether it was the lack of assaulting humidity as I stepped off the plane, or perhaps something larger and much more indescribable, there was a shift.
Although I was in conferences most of the day, I had the chance to explore at night. We went through Rodeo Drive to Venice Beach and Santa Monica. Much of Los Angeles, to me, felt like a movie set. A little too real to be fake, but a little too fake to be real. Stores on Rodeo Drive were large and extravagant, with displays where the pieces themselves moved to display merchandise and some windows where the jewelry was taken out completely because it was simply too expensive to have out without constant attendance. This was in stark contrast, of course, to the packed and sand-swept beachfront stores which offered racy slogans on tank tops and a sweatshirt for $5. There were people in hoodies and people with microphones, I walked past three cameras and a director’s chair.
The fruit in my hotel was $9 and the chocolate milk was $7. When it rained, the pavement glistened to reflect the wrap-around lights on palm trees. I was always on edge, and I felt entirely safe simultaneously. The rollerbladers in Santa Monica were met with a kid singing old-school Michael Jackson, and the Ferris wheel on the pier was crammed with grinning faces. One flight attendant on the way out from LAX was plumped and primed with lip and cheek filler, his eyebrows plucked and hair slicked back so that he looked like a doll. Another was blonde with hair that fell in wisps at her shoulders, she wore no makeup, except perhaps a little moisture on her lips. The world seems to function on extremes. I am so lucky to have experienced it, to live my life for a few days balancing on a tightrope between these extremes. I loved it. And I can’t wait to go back.