Day One: Los Angeles

The first thing I heard when I was boarding the flight to L.A. was an American girl talking to a friend on the phone. "I'm not really sure I understand what's going on yet", she said. "It's like I'm not really on my way". That's just how I felt, and it's like I'm still not sure I'm really here. As I am writing these words I am sitting in the living room of my friend Jesse's house, still wondering if this is really happening. I'm sure it'll hit me soon enough, and that it's just because I'm exhausted from sleep deprivation and bad air ventilation that I can't really get it.

With that in mind, I still don't know what the city has to offer. A million things, I'm sure, but I was so excited about an actual school bus to notice. The school buses are real. They really do exist as other than Hollywood props. And California license plates do actually put the name of the state in cursive letters like they came right out of an Elmore Leonard novel or something. To me, that's crazy. And I might end up taking one silly picture after another just to prove my point.

And did I mention the weather? At four this morning I feared I couldn't get to the airport because of all the snow and here some lady complained because it was 17 degrees! It's warm enough to wear my spring coat - which is lucky, because that bad boy is all I brought. And by the way, immigration isn't so bad. Just so you know.

But I might want to unpack instead of scribbling senseless nonsense which is primarily dominated by my current state of not knowing what's going on and a headache from the aircraft oxygen.

And guys: I'm in an apartment in L.A. How cool is that*?

Nadia

*Answer: very

nadia

What One Does the Day Before Leaving

To answer that question, one does not do many things. Mainly all activities suddenly have something to do with packing and fincing ones passport over and over again in the fear of having lost it. As for me, I got up to the terrible idea that the snow outside my house has increased and might leave me without a plane tomorrow. This idea was quickly given a permanent notice as I realized that flights were still on schedule and planes were still taking off into the air. Then I packed my bag, packed another bag, lied on the couch, ate some lunch and did little else. Now I have seven hours before I have to get up and I'm considering going to bed already because a) I'm tired and b) it would be the sensible thing to do. However, previous incidents have proven early sleep to leave me restless and unable to sleep, so I might also just stay up and watch Josie and the Pussycats. Right now I have no idea, but I do know this; in twenty-four hours things might look very different than they do right now.

Musical inspiration

Everything was almost settled. Almost. Because there was just one little thing I needed to do. Thankfully - after an entire day - that's done now. Of course I'm talking about music. I mean, who can go to Omaha without having warmed up with some old Bright Eyes. I would suggest Lifted, or Fevers and Mirrors. Or The Faint who has always been part of the Omaha label, Saddle Creek, who is an almost religious experience for indie music fans such as myself. And I'm sure people in the know-how would agree that New York just wouldn't be the same without a little bit of Sonic Youth or Lydia Lunch. They made the alternative music scene that is part of the musical diversity that has become a New York-sound. And would you really want to enter Texas without hearing The Bluest Eyes in Texas or San Francisco without hearing... San Francisco? And come on, you might think that grunge is just so nineties, but Seattle wouldn't be the same without a little bit of Nirvana and totally underrated Mudhoney. Finally, America wouldn't be the same without a little bit of Songs for the Deaf by Queens of the Stone Age or anything Lucero or Blind Willie McTell. That's just the sound of America right there. If you don't count America by Simon and Garfunkel of course.

So I had a pretty busy day fixing my lovely music, so I can go for it in style. So when I sit in the Greyhound bus I can surround myself with some of the reasons that I have adored America for so long. So that day went by pretty quickly if I must say so, and in the meantime I even got to make a couple of CD's for my German friend, Anne, who really needs to listen to some new music.

Speaking of friends, I met up with my friend, Victoria, today who once lived in Portland, Oregon, and offers an inspirational source of conversation that has only made me want to get there a little more. So, wow, in a couple of days I'll be on a plane and watch September Issue or read my Margaret Atwood book or sleep or listen to that Graham Coxon album I can't seem to get enough of (it's British, I know, but i can't help it). Or maybe I'll just think about the future six months and how they will change me. I already feel a little changed as we speak.

Nadia

High school madness!

Just as I thought everything was set to go, I realized everything was - as a matter of fact - set to go. This morning as I wearily opened my computer to check the hotmail (yes, I'm one of the dinosaurs who still use hotmail instead of the ever-so-modern gmail) I realized that, wow, I was granted an opportunity to visit Topeka High School. I am so happy, and if you're American you may not know know, and if you're not you might not know why either. But my obsession with America does not stop by the Hollywood movies and the pop songs, but ismixed with a love for the culture. I am dying to see what the teenagers are like. Is the hierachy really as insane as I was once told by a very informative Danish/American girl called Christa? Are things really as bad as they seem? Is the underdog dying in the midwest or do people actually get along. Is there such a thing as jocks, and what are the band geeks really like? Are cheerleaders stupid or is it just a fabricated lie to make the drama crowd feel better? What's it all about? I want to know it! And now I will, or at least, I'll get a peak into the real-life soap opera that is high school.

Prologue thoughts before the actual event

Moved back to the Mom and Dad Hotel (as previously said by a friend of mine... sorry for stealing it), and that can only mean one thing: in less than a week I'll be cruising through the States. My apartment is empty; everything is gone from it, packed in boxes that are now scattered around in my parent's house and forgotten for a whle. Yesterday I went into the apartment and felt an utter sadness about it. I really did love that place. I looked outside the window, thinking how it's probably much warmer in L.A. and that's a very good thing; after all, it's fucking freezing in this northern country. We have minus degrees all over the place and riding my bike seems colder than ever before.

So now everything is a waiting room, but a cozy one. I find myself talking to my stepdad a lot about all the various places I'll be going. For some reasons I also talk about monkeys a lot these days, but that's nothing I can really explain. It's just that they're so cute! But I guess that's pretty irrelevant information. What is relevant is that a week from now I'll be sitting in Heathrow Airport, being slightly scared of what's about to happen. But also so excited that I won't be able to sit still at all. I'm so in love with America and I can't wait to see her.

And I'm sorry for being so boring, but you'd be too, and you know it.

Nadia

Homeboys and Homegirls

There's something you should all be aware of. It's called Homeboy Industries and it's the best concept I heard of in a while. Placed in L.A. there's a bakery who takes in only former gang members, and invites the public to take part of the project. This is a way for these people to disconnect with their former lives and connect with a new one. Next door is a cafe by the name of Homegirl Industries and, well, it's the same concept except with girls obviously. People should support this! This is the website and I endorse you to check it out:
www.homeboy-industries.org.

It's just another reason to go to L.A. and next time I write about it, I might be there. Because this is a place I need to go and support the good cause. And if you're ever in the neighborhood, the address is 130 W Bruno Street, around Sunset Boulevard.

Nadia

Insomnia

You ever have that thing where you can't sleep even though you're way too tired to stay awake? Welcome to my world. This is so incredibly annoying. Last night I stumbled out of bed, knowing that I couldn't really do anything because I was too tired to, and checked my e-mail where only two messaged had sneaked into the mailbox. And they really weren't that interesting. Damn! I wanted to read, but couldn't focus, because I was so tired, and you know what it is? It's the restlessness having a peak into my system and fucking everything up. Okay, so I have to get up at 4am at the day (=night) of my departure, and I just know I won't have any sleep that night at all. You should all feel sorry for me if it wasn't because everything will be so awesome for me when I'm gone.

Yes, I'm thinking about this too much, or am I? I've been waiting for this for more than a year and I deserve to get going at this point. Besides, my book wants to be written as well. It begs for it. It begs for it so much that this morning when I was riding my bike to work, I was so lost in thought about it that I almost hit head first into a metal pole. That would've hurt.

But don't worry, that's nothing I'll bother you with. That's someone my various notes have to deal with. But I will tell you this much: think Kerouac with a Broken Social Scene soundtrack, mixed with the casuality of Bret Easton Ellis and the feel of Carson McCullers. So... that's what I hope for anyway.