And so, the final day comes to a close. I mean, shit, it’s not actually over yet. Maybe we’ll get some last minute, late night deal. Some studio executive will kung-fu kick down the door and shower me in magical Hollywood money, money that glows and sings and giggles. Probably not. Assuming that life just isn’t that sublime, let’s get on with the recap.
- First pitch of the morning? Maybe not so hot. That’s okay. These things happen. So do occasional glassy stares. So do questions that, in their asking, indicate an uncertainty of information. I might be misreading. As it’s explained to me, sometimes you think they’re not hot on something, when in reality, they’re just being guarded. Or they’ll kick it up the ladder, and someone Up Yonder will be all ga-ga for goo-goo and will snap their spines getting it into production. The prevailing notion here is: you just never know.
- Lunch, courtesy of the wisdom of the Magic Tidball (which is like the Magic 8-Ball, but instead of saying something like, “Answer Unclear, Ask Again Later,” you get Jeff Tidball saying, “If You Want To Eat Awesomely, Go To Cafe 50s On Santa Monica Blvd.”). So. Yes. Cafe 50s. Where I enjoyed some crazy scramble with spinach. I used to hate spinach. I now love spinach. Do you care? You don’t care. But I’m telling you anyway. Suck it up, Daffodil.
- Pitch meeting, the second. A sophisticated meeting with sophisticated questions. Proof that they “got it.” Very happy with the result. Time to do the Dance of Mirth. Look away. It involves a distinct lack of pants.
- I then take time to learn things about my iPhone. For instance, I learn that despite Apple saying that Augmented Reality stuff isn’t coming until the 3.1 software upgrade, the Yelp application has an Easter Egg that lets you use the AR stuff in a nifty restaurant-searching (not sure how useful, though) way. Clever stuff. They call it “Monocle.” Which I approve of, because, hey, monocles. I’d like to note that, despite my initial aversion to purchasing and paying for the iPhone, it has served me increasingly well here in LA. It has earned its pay. The iPhone is like having a little wizard in your pocket, and you can ask him to cast magical spells or perform hurried divinations on your behalf.
- Dinner, which consists of a fuckton of meat in my belly. Good meat. Delicious, slow-roasted rib meat. At this place, right hee-yah. So good. So stupidly good. So full of animal flesh. I may pass out.
- Then I came back to the hotel, and I wrote a blog entry, and that blog entry started with, “And so, the final day comes to a close.” And that blog entry ended with, “Good night, City of Angles, City of Lost Angelinos, City of Concrete and Highways.”
Good night, City of Angles, City of Lost Angelinos, City of Concrete and Highways.