I'm in L.A. is not much of a sentence to describe what I've been through in the last 24 hours.
I’m usually really good at planning my trips/escapades. I always make cost efficient decisions, cut corners only if I can handle it all while having a good time (which in muggle language means “crazy adventure”).
This time around, the adventure was a little too much for me to handle. Before buying my plane ticket, I made sure I had a place to stay near where most of my activities would take place. I then bought a plane ticket leaving from Toronto that came out cheaper than flying directly out of Montreal (the bus ticket to Toronto was cheap).
That’s where shit hit the fan. I got to the bus terminal and found out I got bumped because “Greyhound overbooked”. I couldn’t take the next bus out because I’d miss my flight. I tried other bus lines, the train, a flight out, a portkey, the Floo Network, NOTHING was available.
Liz found a solution. Made it on time to Toronto with like 4 hours to spare.
I land at LAX, call my “friend” (let’s call him Bob here), that agreed many times to let me stay at his place this week, to let him know I’ve arrived. First call, no answer. Second call, no answer. 3 text messages and 45 min later, I said fuck off to that plan and hit up another friend of mine, Cornelius (not), who was kind enough to lend me his couch for the week. Thank the lord for Cornelius. Fuck Bob.
All that made my trip here very interesting and stressful. But now I have my shit figured out, I just downed the yummiest latte I’ve had in a while and am about to go see some friends. Life throws you curve balls sometimes, but that doesn’t mean you can’t catch them.
I caught them and chucked them right in Bob’s stupid face. Metaphorically.
I didn’t take off yet and I got an offer to play a set while I’m out here on friday with some friends I made on Warped Tour AND I get to write with awesome people. Fuck Bob, sweet deals came my way.
So again, obstacles suck, yes, but fuck Bob.
(Photo of me looking like a balloon by Valentine Zuczek)
(I look like a balloon because there’s air in my open back onesie)