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American words to Australian
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American words I just don’t understand

It’s not uncommon for Americans to have no idea what I’m talking about.  We have lots of slang words and I often like to use them just for laughs.  But every now and again there are some American words I just don’t understand.

And, as much as Americans love our accent we say words differently so it sometimes takes a bit for them to understand us.

(Eg. Alternate. We say al-ter-nate, Americans say alter-nate).

Ever noticed that most non-English speaking people talk with an American accent?

I think that’s why their accents aren’t foreign to us–we’re so used to hearing them.  Whether it be on TV, the movies, a Swedish person, even Canadians (sorry, couldn’t resist. Just like you can’t tell the difference between an Australian accent and a New Zealand one, I can’t tell the difference between yours).

It usually also means we know all the different words they use.

Fanny

Yes, even “fanny”.  Fanny might not make Americans laugh but it always makes us Australians (and Brits etc) laugh out loud–rolling on the floor laughing out loud.

To let you in on the secret, in Australia a fanny is your vagina.  So imagine how funny it is for us when we translate your politically correct sentence, “I have a sore fanny” or “We need to take our fanny packs with us”: what pres tell is a vagina pack, dare we ask what we need it for and where do we get it?

For the 1% of Australians who might not know, and if you haven’t already worked it out, fanny to Americans is a bum.

Rooter

And even rooter. There are ads for it, vans driving around with it–there are rooters everywhere. Again, our conservative American friends have a word they happily throw around that in our part of the world is a “rude word”.  If not a rude word most definitely a socially uncomfortable word for them (we don’t have a problem with it AT all).

To root is the act of having sex.  As in, “hey love, wanna root?”  Perhaps some of these Hollywood men you’ve been hearing about in the news might have used that line had they known about the act of rooting.

The rooter in America is the generic term for a drain cleaning service.  So we have business names/websites like:

Rooter Man

Team Rooter

And even Rooty Rooter. He must be a really good rooter!

Then you have every Charles-, Dick- & Harry-the-Rooter (or should I say Chuck, Archer & Parker).  All these American men publicising that they’ll come to root for you.

Speaking of rooting for you. I also know that one.  “Rooting for” is the American term for supporting your team. In a sentence, “I root for the Dodgers”. If I said I root for the Dodgers at home I’d be classed as a first class slut–some form of groupie happy to put myself out for the entire Dodgers team.

Yes, yes, our humour is very much of the gutter variety.  And we’re fine with that.

American words I just don’t understand

But there are some words that I don’t know–or don’t know the slang for might be more accurate.

At tennis my friend was coming clean that she lets her kids have their passes every so often.  We had this entire conversation with her telling me it’s bad (no it’s not), asking what I think (yeah, it’s fine) and saying they don’t do it all the time (ok, fine).

I’m looking at her thinking did I miss what the pass was for? Her kids are young, where do they need passes for? I gave a little chuckle. It’s our turn to be in on the court.  Yay, we won, off to the other side.

Then, when we got to the other side, she called me out on it. Oops! She’s so used to not understanding what I say that she recognised that blank look on my face and nervous giggle.

The “pass” was a pac (soft c–said with that American accent so the a sound is not the “ah” sound but an “a” sound that’s quick.  And so “pass” is actually short for pacifier.  As in dummy.

Oh! Yes, I know you guys say Pacifier. I just didn’t recognise “pac” I thought you were saying pass!

Dummy

So a Pacifier is a Dummy in Australia. One of our friends from Shanghai’s favourite phrase of ours is “spit the dummy” which means “chuck a hissy fit” or have a little tanty (tantrum). And no, I have no idea why we call it a dummy.

Bogan

While I’m at it I’ll give the Americans another favourite word of ours: bogan.

A bogan can be loosely translated as “trailer trash”. Traditionally they had an outfit which consisted of way-too-tight jeans, a flannelette shirt (flanno) and ugg boots.  Yes, ugg boots.  Only bogans actually wore ugg boots out in public, the rest of us only wore them at home.

Here is a bogan:

Bogans

A family full of them actually

But then things started blurring–there were cool incredibly tight jeans, flannos were deemed respectable (depending on who wore them or how they wore them of course) and ugg boots became a thing.

And bogans also became proud of being bogans.  And so the term “cashed-up bogan” was born.  This is when a bogan did good and all of a sudden had loads of money.  They would carry on being bogans but now they had lots of money to throw around. The long-standing belief then was, well, money can’t buy you class.

Americans have bogans too. Our family calls them yogans (Yankee bogans).

Thongs

I think Americans know this one but it’s one of my favourites.  We wear thongs on our feet as well. As in flip flops.

In America (& probably every other place in the world) thongs are undies.  And I know this.  But I do love calling out to the kids in public, “Don’t forget your thongs” or “Are you wearing your thongs”.

It’s important to keep a sense of humour.

So technically that was one word I don’t understand. There are more I’m sure. But that was funny and then I could share with my American audience some of the words we hold dear to our heart–and why some of your words make us laugh.

Halloween in LA

On another note I first wrote about Halloween in LA a few years ago.  I made the observation that we don’t really celebrate Halloween in Australia.  But the fact is we do.  Well many people do anyway.  It depends what neighbourhood you live in.

We get the impression we don’t celebrate it in Australia because it’s not as widespread but when you think about it not every house is dressed up and not everyone goes trick or treating here either.

It’s just more of an event here: they dress up at work, even people going about their normal business dress up.

In Australia though, we tend to dress up as “spooky” things–blood, guts and gore.  Here in the US Halloween is a giant dress up day–you can be whatever you like, it doesn’t have to be scary.  I hadn’t changed since tennis that morning so I pronounced that I was dressed as a tennis player. Tick. All fine.

Our neighbourhood decided they’d start trick or treating locally this year.  It’s a big step to be able to trick or treat in your own neighbourhood rather than going to someone else’s (which is the thing to do). We’d never think to head to someone else’s ‘hood and knock on their doors for lollies (candy).

But when houses (or streets) go all out, they go all out.  Did you catch my Instagram post where one house had a crashed 747 in their front yard? Very cool.

A plane is crashed in someone’s front yard. Oh wait … it’s just Halloween in Hollywood. #halloween #hollywood

A post shared by It Started in LA 🌴 Gwenny John (@itstartedinla) on

 

Lead up to Thanksgiving

And now it’s November 1 it’s time to fast forward to Thanksgiving–the longest and only four-day long weekend in the American holiday calendar.  And because of that I have to leave you now to research what we’ll do for the four-day weekend–we all need a break.

Enjoy the rest of the week as we head into the weekend. Catch you soon!

xxIt Started in LAxx

 

Clinging to our Motherland
My LA story, Posts, Soapbox

Clinging to our motherland: US Gov and guns

It’s been an interesting couple of weeks for me.  As many of you know my son is in his senior year at school.  But what does this opening sentence have to do with clinging to our motherland: US Gov and guns?

Back to School Night

Well last week we had “Back to School” night.  It’s where you go to each class the kids have in their schedule and see the teachers and get a breakdown of the class and what they’ll be studying for the year.

Master H is taking AP (Advanced Placement) US Government.  I thought nothing of it until one of the parents asks whether they’ll be discussing other systems of government.  The answer was a categoric no.  Much like the HSC in Australia the APs are taught to a curriculum guideline, the topics of which can be found in a test. That test is taken by everyone in the country taking that subject. And, a quick look at other systems isn’t covered by the syllabus–or on the test.

For those newer readers, we’re at a local private school in LA not an international one. Although, LA being LA, there are a number of expats or people who have moved to the US for one reason or another.

US Gov

I got a bit peeved by the teacher’s response. I mean he chose the subject (there were no other real choices), US Gov is US Gov right?

When I studied Legal Studies at school it was essentially studying the Australian legal system.  We covered other systems in the world but we focussed on ours.  It makes plenty of sense to understand what other countries do in order to better understand ours.

And while the answer was a categoric no she did suggest that they would weave into their discussion other systems because of the expat nature of the group. (The small class had a Canadian family, British/German, Aussies (us) and Italian. So when I eventually calmed down about how she categorically answered the question, it isn’t going to be all bad.

Expat Facebook group

Before I had a chance to calm down I posted a comment on an Expat Facebook group I belong to. I wrote:

“Here’s my gripe: couldn’t she just say there’s no time in the curriculum to discuss the other systems it’s purely a US Govt subject? That would have sufficed.

“And am I wrong to be so sad that my son will know so much more about the US system of Government and the ins and outs of the Electoral College than the Westminster system?”

I was expecting some empathy from the Aussies amongst us and some lamenting from others about the downside of Expat life where the kids often know more about the country in which they live than their homeland–their motherland.

Instead, after the Australians supported me, I was barraged with comments accusing me of trying to change the AP courses and advising me that the AP system is very strict and must be adhered to.  And this:

“With about 200 countries in the world, how could they effectively compare other systems of government while simultaneously going in-depth about the US?”

But I wasn’t asking for that … Just a bit of discussion if it fits, that’s all.  (And remember I didn’t ask the question, one of my American compatriots–in the parental sense–asked).

Potluck night

With all that behind me I went along to the Potluck night we threw for the Senior parents. We were chatting away about stuff as you do.  We were talking about what subjects our kids were doing and one of the dads said, “Are you sad that [he’s] doing US Gov and will know more about our messed up system than not your own?”

Oh my God. Hallelujah.  Thank you. Yes!

Why wasn’t one of my fellow expats able to just say/ask/empathise like this all-American dad formerly of New York and more recently living in LA?

Did someone say guns?

Well one guy did.  Made a huge statement didn’t he? We are literally walking around in disbelief.  Vegas is so close to LA, it’s in our backyard.  There’s someone you know in Vegas every week.  In fact there were people I knew in Vegas at the time and thankfully they were fine and away from the trouble.

But there’s nothing more obvious than an Australian in a gun debate. Especially in America.  I blogged about it early on when I was here for my first mass shooting. (Yep, like it’s an earthquake or hurricane, celebrity divorce or star meltdown)*.

My daughter was talking about it in school the day we woke to the news of the Vegas tragedy. One of her friends said she believed in the right to protect herself (I’m guessing she means her family not actually 15 year-old her). Miss H looked at her startled; it wasn’t something she was expecting to hear in LA amongst her friends.

Miss H said, “If there were proper gun laws then they wouldn’t have a gun in the first place would they?”

I’m happy to say I give my kids an Australian perspective when it really matters.

Australians actually have it all wrong

But actually us Australians have it all wrong.  We do. If there’s one single thing we are polar opposites with America on it’s our attitude to guns.  And never the two shall meet.  Basically, we’re like guns suck, they kill people. And Americans (not all thank-you but the ones giving you a bad rap) are like guns are so good, I get to protect myself and it’s my right to have one. So there.

Every time there’s a mass shooting in America us Australians come out like Eddie Murphy in his classic standup routine “I got an ice-cream“.

Yeah, we go

“We don’t have guns,

“You got a problem,

“We can’t afford them,

“Cause they can’t sell them,

“You have to have a licence

“And it’s really hard.”

And Americans  go, “Oh My God I’m so sorry, how do you cope?”

Then we pull out the Port Arthur story and go, “Take that!”

Then the conversation goes one of two ways.

  1. Well it’s our right to bear arms it’s in the second amendment so there. OR
  2. You know you’ve had other mass shootings don’t you? Yeah, but you never talk about them do you?

Then we get all funny (because we like to win too). We have to concede defeat. One or two situations have tragically happened (the Lindt Cafe hostage situation freaked me out).

(BTW there were three deaths including the hostage taker and 18 injured).

Yeah, all of a sudden because we let a couple of incidents slip through to the keeper in the last 21 years, that means our rules suck.  So basically it didn’t work.

“Take that Australia. We win.”

Yep. Let’s face it, when it comes to the number of psychotic mass shootings in the last (let’s just call it 10 years) you win America.

So Australia got it wrong after all.

 

Nightly Talk Shows

But not all Americans believe semi-automatic and automatic guns should be out there for anyone to buy. And use. And kill people.

I recorded every late night show to see how the comedians handled the latest tragedy. I follow them all on Twitter and I’ve tweeted and retweeted anything vaguely intelligent on the subject.

But, the problem with the way the situation here is that these guys are preaching to the converted. We share their posts on Facebook, we tweet them and post photos on our Instagram like the Pray Policy Change for America. They unite with the Australians, we look at each other and go “yeah, exactly”, we puff our chests out and wear a grin from ear to ear.

The same thing happened before Trump got elected. They think common sense should prevail.

But change won’t happen unless we stop preaching to the converted.  And not by preaching to the non-converts either. I don’t know how to talk to these people but somehow there’s a way. And once we work out that way, then we’ll start to see a difference.

But to start there are two ways. First is through education: get into the classrooms. It’s going to be a generational change that’s needed because it will never be a mindset change. Second, stop the bloody NRA from being allowed to donate money to bribe the politicians. Actually, just disband them. If politicians aren’t being paid to keep guns legal I will guarantee you their perspective will change.  And if it doesn’t, see step one.

And, because I’m one of those “converteds” here is a story including a video with some powerful statements from said Late Night hosts. Powerful statements that will fall on deaf ears yet again.

 

Immigrants

Curve ball … empathy. As I was writing the first part of this post I started thinking.

Immigration is such a huge topic and it’s so deeply dividing (what topic isn’t these days?) An expat is just a temporary immigrant really.

When you leave your family and friends behind, move to a new country to start a “better life” (for whatever reason) it’s pretty bloody hard to start afresh. You have to make new friends, experience different ways of doing things and assimilate into your new world.  Take a US Gov class instead of Australian Legal Studies.

Many people say America and Australia aren’t that different–they’re essentially the same right? (Well, my series on the differences between Americans and Australians show just how different they can be lots of times).

So what if you move to a country that’s nothing like your motherland? How much harder must it be then? We experienced it in China as expats but not as immigrants.

Just a thought if you’re down on people for clinging to their motherland.  Cut them some slack. They want to be in your country (OK, most of them–don’t get nitpicky on me) and they want to assimilate.  But sometimes, when you move away, the bond is stronger and the memories grow fonder and fonder.

Chin up!

xx It Started in LA xx

* Don’t forget to #prayforTori

How to do an "Ask" to your school Formal
My LA story, Posts

How to do an “Ask” for a School Formal

What sort of English is that I hear you shouting at me.  How to do an “ask” for a school formal? What does that even mean?

Well, if you’re the parent of a teenager living the dream in 90210 you may well know what I mean.  If you’re the parent of a teenager living in America you may also know what I mean.  If you’re a teenager who’s Googled “How to ask a girl to my Formal?” I suggest you refer your parents to this page and keep searching.

Junior Dance

Trying to live our normal LA lives has been made easier this past week by talk of the Junior Dance at the kids’ school.

There have been movies made about them, TV Shows have featured them and all in all anyone who has vaguely been exposed to “popular culture” (read: America) knows about School Dances in America.

It’s hard to believe I’ve been out of Australia for more than three years now.  This means I’m starting to get a little out of touch with how things are done in Australia—especially as my kids left at Middle School age!  (I know, I know, how does that even happen?)

Types of Dances in the year

Typically here in the US (OK, LA) there are two major dances—Homecoming and Prom.  Homecoming is the start of the season and has something to do with the football team.  Given our school doesn’t have a football team (and its associated American ra-ra) our school doesn’t have this Dance.  Personally I think they should at least do a Homecoming of sorts in honor of our other sports teams (otherwise known as athletics teams) but then again our school isn’t a huge sport school.  Sigh.

So, after Homecoming there’s usually a Winter Formal and/or this Dance, called the Junior Dance because it’s organized by the Junior Class.  Then there’s usually one more towards the end of the year—Spring Dance—and of course, Prom.  Prom is STRICTLY for the Seniors and their dates.

Most of the time the Americans are politically correct and unless you have a boyfriend or girlfriend—or I suppose someone you “like” you go solo.  Takes all the fun out of things but the pressure too no doubt.

Ask Dance

This upcoming dance is an “ask dance”.  Clearly that means you’re encouraged to ask someone to go with you.  Of course you don’t have to ask or be asked but where’s the fun in that?

You know there’s a lot of talk about this generation and how our generation have ruined them by having to win all the time and not teaching them what failure and disappointment is all about?

Well … they have taken it to a whole new level when it comes to the “Ask”.

The “Ask” has been taken to a whole new level when it’s Prom time.  Does the term “Promposal” mean anything to you? No. My marriage proposal had nothing on these Promposals.

Step 1: The Ask ritual

There is a system, a ritual if you like, about how exactly you “ask” your prospective partner.

It starts with the ‘asker’ checking with the ‘askee’s’ friends to see if (let’s say he just to simplify this) he asks said ‘askee’ whether or not (let’s say she to simplify this once again) she would say yes.  Preferably via text.  Or Snapchat.  Worse-case scenario: in person.

This is easy if the answer is yes.

If it’s yes then he goes ahead and plans to ask her—safely proceed to step two.

Of course it’s a lot more complicated when the answer is no.  Or I’m waiting for a better offer. Actually, the answer wouldn’t be no.

What would ensue next is a lot of behind-the-scenes drama that would put any caucus vote (or Attorney-General nomination vote) to shame.  No might be: “maybe but I thought prospective-asker-2 might invite her” OR getting one of his friends to let him down gently that the answer “wouldn’t be yes”.

Yes, in my day part of this were true but it was sink or swim—you didn’t know if they were going to say yes or no.  You workshopped it ad-infinitum then went for it.

There was a case this week when a boy didn’t follow the ask ritual: shock horror.  Well, the outcome might have been a bit embarrassing because even though the girl said yes (couldn’t hurt his feelings).  But, it turns out she was being asked by another boy (who had already qualified his ask via the asking ritual).  Boy number two had to tell boy number one that actually he was planning to ask her (just hadn’t got around to it yet) so sorry he couldn’t take the girl that had said yes to him hours earlier.  But, apparently, it wasn’t in a “you stole my girl I’m going to punch you” way it was just matter of fact, “sorry mate she is already going to say yes to me”.

So, you see there’s a place for this ask ritual after all.  (Although seriously? This boy waited to ask until two days before the Formal, next time maybe he won’t wait so long—what’s with that?)

Step 2: The actual Ask aka Making the ask

Once we’re clear on whether or not the ‘askee’ will say yes the ‘asker’ goes ahead with plans to “make the ask”.  So, teenager who’s still reading this is the section relevant to you: how to do an ask for a school formal.

This can be as high-key or as low-key as the asker wants.  (Translation: high key would be elaborate & low key would be a relative simple “low-key” affair).

I’m not sure if the level of ask has anything to do with how much the asker likes the askee—and not sure my kids would cough up that sort of personal information either.

In many cases it’s pretty straight forward.  But, apparently Freshman boys still have a bit of growing up to do and found it slightly beyond some of them to work out “how” to ask their pre-vetted would-be dates.  Yes, for some boys, apparently, they felt the need to workshop not just amongst themselves but with the girls they planned to ask what they thought of their ask idea.  Seriously boys, this is why we need to communicate with our mothers.  They know a bit about these things.

Thankfully they’ll soon outgrow this.  And, with one day to go before the Formal, I think all the asks are now out of the way and they can move on with the next step—planning how they’ll get there.

Ask examples

Both my kids were “sorted” early.  My Junior-year (Year 11) son made a pact with a friend of his that they would go together—so long as he “asked” her with a proper ask.

My daughter got word that one of the Freshman (Year 9) boys was going to ask her and she swiftly gave the nod that yes she’d say yes if asked.  Not missing a beat, she was asked the very next day.  It was great because it caught her by surprise and it was a good “ask” as far as asks go.

Actually both of their asks were very cute.  My son dressed up as a Shark (did you see that episode of The Bachelor where the would-be date dressed up in a Shark outfit saying she loved Dolphins?)  With his red rose, and a poster made by one of his friends saying, “Dolphinitely come to Formal with me” he was done.  He did this at lunchtime with lots of people around so it had maximum impact, maximum effect, she wasn’t expecting it so all good.  (No pic for fear of the wrath of the son).

My daughter was asked a day earlier.  In a sign of utter cuteness, he had an Australian flag where the stars were a question mark and Formal was written on it.  Clever, pander to her love of Australia and, asking at the start of the day with all their friends around, caught her completely off guard.  Big tick.

How to ask a "date" to your Formal

Ideas on your ask for formal

Perhaps one of the cutest things apart from my two (of course) was a senior boy who asked his girlfriend with the help of a few mates.  Given the rain in LA not only was it creative but it was also very musical theatre of them.  His mates, armed with black umbrellas with the letters F-O-R-M-A-L-? on them said it all.

Ask ideas for Formal

Ask ideas for your formal

Don’t you wish that was you?

Step 3: Getting ready and how are we getting there

Now we need to move on to “will we get ready together?” and “where” and “how are we getting there?”.  Most girls like to get ready together and so, it seems, do the boys.

Really, apart from the getting ready together bit this is not much different from my Formal or Ball when i was at school.

Step 4: The actual reason this all happened in the first place

The actual dance bit.  The whole reason behind the whole ask bit in the first bit.  The whole reason for being on this Saturday night.  It can get a little overshadowed by its surrounding steps but you want to hope it’s a fun time.  That is the whole reason after all.

Step 5: After party—do we go or don’t we as Freshmen?

The unwritten rule here is that Freshmen (year 9 and the first year of high school) don’t go to the after-party.  It’s just not cool.  But that’s not to say that the after-party organizers can’t profit from the Freshmen’s desire to go.  Ticket prices are done as follows:

Freshmen: $25
Sophomores: $15
Juniors: $10
Seniors: $5

But this is 90210 so money isn’t really a deterrent.  No, It’s the message that if you’re not cool enough to pick up on it your High School career isn’t off to a great start.

But really … 14 and 15 year-olds at a party with 17 7 18 year-olds—with all the “trimmings” that goes along with that really isn’t cool for parents to let them go anyway.

Apart from the post-Formal gossip that’s it.  Monday comes around—Tuesday if there’s lots of gossip—and the drudgery of school returns. Then we’ll have to wait til the next time before there’s this much chatter around the dinner table.

One final word

When I went to my school Formal, or a Dance at a boys’ school it was perhaps a more elaborate affair reserved for Year 11 & 12.  It consisted of a sit-down dinner followed by dancing.  This was enough for us to think it was the most fun ever. (OK, that and sneaking alcohol onto the Premises).  These days the kids need “something more”.  Dancing alone is not enough.  A photo booth is no longer enough.  Now they look to also be entertained.  So I’m with them, our generation has ruined this generation with all those lavish birthday parties we threw them. When dancing all night long with your mates to great music is no longer good enough what hope in hell do these kids have?

How is it where you are?  Has Asking a date to go with you to a Dance (even if it’s just as friends) gone to a new level where you are? Has Promposal fever hit other parts of the globe?

Happy nearly weekend LA—fully weekend Southern Hemisphere!

xx It Started in LA xx

PS: If you’re still struggling with American year-level terminology this might help you.

I Want My LA Back
My LA story, Posts

It’s 2017 in LA but something’s not quite right

It’s 2017 in LA but something’s not quite right. It’s been a while since I’ve written.  And I have to confess to you straight up that I’ve been a little obsessed. 

Yes, I’ve been a little obsessed, but not with the things I should be obsessing about in LA.  For starters it’s award season: my favourite time of the year. Who’s wearing what, what Celebrities are in town and just who you might bump into going about your normal everyday business.  It’s great, too, driving around as huge Billboards as far as the eye can see are advertising TV Shows and the latest movies “For Your Consideration”.  There are “screeners” sent to everyone in SAGs or the Academy or the various other memberships around town; and the mad rush to see all the movies in time for the major award shows.  Yes, this is the time LA is alive and thriving on its Entertainment roots doing what it does its superficial best.  And I love it. Unashamedly so.

But something’s not quite right.

Friends in town

To top it off we had friends from Australia in town last weekend and you always know it’s going to be a beauty when you do.  What’s not to love? You’ve got like-minded people ready to embrace your town. We had an Awards night after-party to go to and a ticket to the highly coveted “G’day USA” (formerly known as G’day LA) Gala. Sweet: Life is Good.  This is why “It Started in LA”.

Yet something’s not quite right; there’s something hanging over us.  Something worth obsessing about.

LA weather

Then there’s the weather.  You must know LA is blessed with shoot-perfect weather (that’s shooting entertainment style not America’s blazing guns style).  Yeah, a typical LA winter starts at around 13C to 16C with the sun beating down then peaks somewhere between 18C and 23C before it cools down again at the end of the day.  This is just in time to come home, put the fire on and open a bottle of red wine.  It’s heaven.  You even manage 25C to 28C days—on the weekends if you’re lucky enough—and just might be able to crank the spa on.

But this winter has been freakishly cold, starting out at 1C last week and only peaking at about 10C—if you’re lucky.  Despite the sun being out the wind was bitterly—New York—cold.

That rain though

And wet.  LA loves to talk about the rain.  And, let me tell you, there’s been some rain. Not only has it been constant but it was heavy.  It was Sydney heavy.  We were all in a state of shock.  Of course we all know we need the rain so no one was game to whinge and bitch and moan about it but in the end, at our LA selfish best, we were saying, “enough already!”.  LA doesn’t do rain.

And, with the rain has come the mudslides.  It’s been dry here for many years and our dry, baron land got a bit of a shock.  With many of our communities built around the canyons—it couldn’t cope with all the rain sending muddy wet dirt skidding down the hills taking with it walls, fences and in some cases actual houses.

So you see there’s been quite a lot to talk about.  Quite a lot to distract “us” Los Angelinos.  Enough happening around town to ensure we are firmly locked away in our own bubble.  Relishing our bubble crying out how lucky we are to do what we do living where we do.  What a time to be alive.

But something’s not quite right.

How did you get here? Which way did you come?

And of course with the weather comes the traditional LA talk of how bad the traffic is and how LA doesn’t know how to drive in the rain (it’s true: it’s fact).  With one of the busiest links between the flats & the Valley, Laurel Canyon, blocked because of one of these landslides that’s a whole lot of “which route did you take?” talk to start every conversation.  LA Perfection right there.

SuperBowl

Not to be outdone, it’s SuperBowl time.  We’ve got Lady Gaga doing the half-time entertainment and we’re gearing up for the ads—not only at half-time but during the whole telecast. Mr H’s company is responsible for the special effects of at least three-quarters of the ads so not only are we excited about the ads themselves but thrilled that we’re a part of it.

And in a SuperBowl trifecta each year we go to a friend’s Superbowl party which is always so much fun I often miss the ads.  (Don’t actually ask me who’s playing, or who has played; but I can tell you who’s been the half-time entertainment.  Yes, there’s a lot to look forward to.

In LA it’s always a great start to the year.  A lot to obsess about.

But something’s not quite right…

So what’s going on that with the stars aligned (pardon the pun) and all of our ducks lined up that’s interfering with what should only be a bloody good time?

You might already have guessed.  It’s actually taken over the world and because it’s so early on it’s hard to know how long this will last.  Facebook & Twitter are filled with opinion posts, and if people aren’t sharing news stories or rants they’re ranting about how they’re done with (or about to abandon) Facebook because of the number of political posts.  And let me tell you some of them are so bloody good it’s really hard NOT to share them.

Yep, there’s that word.  There’s your clue: Political.

Politics

That my friends is my obsession. This anti-news, anti binge-CNN-watching, Celeb-loving, LA-loving, superficial-loving Blogger can’t get enough of the news.  My friends, I can’t escape to my LA bubble because everyone keeps asking me what life is like with our new President.  And the world is reminding me everywhere how our new Pres is affecting me.  My. Everyday. Life.

If you’re a regular you’ll know one of my last posts was a very upbeat post about staying in the US under Trump leadership. It’s true that once I got over the hangover and utter shock of Trump being our President elect (and subsequently our actual President) I thought that campaign rhetoric might give way to the confines of the job.  You know? There was a lot of talk in my three years here about how little power the President of the United States actually has.  So slowly as she goes the Wall wouldn’t be built, our President would have to defend his first mass shooting and his popularity would be largely diminished it’s just a four-year countdown until America realises its mistakes and life goes on as usual.

Reality TV binge fest

But this is Hollywood and day after day we’re in the middle of a Reality TV binge fest of the real kind. If we miss an episode—or a day—we miss a big piece of news; a reshuffle, a new executive order, a sacking.  Alternative facts.

I really don’t want to get all political here—it’s bad enough that my time is consumed with soaking up all the various news stories, people’s shared Facebook news posts, Tweets (not the Pres’s), opinion pieces, videos and everything in between.  If CNN wasn’t so repetitive I’d be on that 24/7.  I even tuned into Fox News.

But I want my life back.  I’ve had enough.

California is not the rest of America

It’s hard to get a sense of perspective here in LA though. LA—California—is obviously largely a democratic state.  They abhor Trump. It’s like preaching to the converted. Every meeting with every friend is an update on wtf is going on.  Even my Republican friends (yes, I do have Republican friends and they happen to be very nice, intelligent people).

Yes, we participated in the Women’s March.  How could I not? How could one person with the signing of an Executive order set women back 500 years?

And what’s with these Executive Orders? Why haven’t past Presidents signed more of these in the past?  Well it seems they have.  It’s just that this one makes them count—Reality TV style.

One of my (US) friends asked a great question though.  If being President was as easy as signing Executive Orders why then didn’t Barack Obama sign one to ban guns here in the US?  Could it have been THAT simple?  Wouldn’t that have been a good way to make use of this Executive Order caper?

So…  You get the picture?  I don’t need The House of Cards or Scandal anymore. I’ve got this new Show: The Trump House.  And I’m addicted.  But I hope it doesn’t get renewed.  I can only cope with one season.  It’s intense, it’s real, it’s scary.  And I don’t know how much more of this I can take.  What a way to be educated in American politics.

A couple of links to keep your sanity

Before I go here are a few links to two cracker videos that made me chuckle.

 

Till next time: I want my LA Back!  I want Reality TV Hollywood style, not Reality TV (scary) reality style.

xx It Started in LA xx

How to raise the perfect LA Princess: five steps to follow | It Started in LA | itstartedinla.com
My LA story, Posts

How to raise the perfect LA Princess

Ever wondered how to raise the perfect LA Princess?  Have you heard of the phenomena I like to call The LA Princess?  The LA Prince exists too but in merely a shadow of their counterpart.  Let me explain.

Firstly, welcome back after a bit of work and a great Thanksgiving break.

Thanksgiving is America’s longest long weekend (they don’t take the Friday and Monday off like we do in Australia and other parts of the world). And, because they’re giving thanks, it’s time to be with family and friends so it’s the biggest weekend of the year when it comes to travel.  (Did you happen to catch this story about how busy it was on the roads in LA?)

If you’re playing along at home via Facebook and Instagram, we took a road trip to Utah.  More about the travelog in the coming days (or weeks as the case might be!).  I will just say though that it is indeed a spectacular part of the world.

Leaving behind the LA Bubble

I’ve decided that leaving LA bound for other parts of the US is good for the soul.  It’s so easy to get caught up in the LA bubble we find ourselves in.  And this is despite us trying to keep all eight feet on the ground.  It’s not until you set foot outside the bubble that you realise you’re getting sucked in.

When we lived in China we used to call them “Get-out-of-China” holidays.  This was simply because day-to-day life could be extremely difficult, constantly trying to navigate a world where the culture and the language are so so different from yours and extremely difficult to navigate.

The LA Princess Syndrome

Before I left LA I’ve been noticing the phenomenon I like to call the LA Princess syndrome.  The LA Princess is unique in so many ways.  And in other ways she is not new to you at all.

Perhaps the original LA Princess in my time was Paris Hilton (ironically went to the same school as my kids).  She has been superseded by former bestie Kim Kardashian.  And so, per the “Reality” Show, the Kardashians have  big part to play in ensuring the LA Princess is alive and well.

But you don’t have to live in LA to be an LA Princess.  From the comfort of wherever you are in the world—coupled with reality TV and Snapchat (don’t you know Instagram is for old people?! And yes I have a Snapchat account but still don’t know how to use it) you can raise an LA Princess.

Not unlike Sydney, LA is a melting pot of many cultures.  And, like Sydney, there are many wealthy people around doing incredible things.  But there is still somehow a difference. It’s difficult to put my finger on but it’s here.

I look to two friends as examples: both not from here, both wealthy with celebrity parents yet their children do not suffer from LA Princess syndrome.  They must wander what on earth they’re doing wrong.

Controversially (or not) I think the bulk of the responsibility comes from the parents.  (Shock. Horror).

Thankfully so many of my friends and their children don’t suffer from this syndrome or I might have to actually slit my wrists.  But there’s enough LA Princess syndrome going on around for me to put together a little step-by-step guide on how to turn your perfectly normal girl into an LA Princess.

How to raise the perfect LA Princess

Here are five ways you can indulge your little Princess and turn them into an LA Princess.

1.  Let her believe she’s the centre of the universe

The key is to indulge her.  Indulge her in every way imaginable.

She is the centre of the universe isn’t she? Of course she is; let her know this. Only she matters.

My daughter has been playing school tennis.  It hasn’t been without its ups and downs but I love that sport gives kids a sense of the real reality—they learn to win and lose, they learn that money doesn’t buy you everything and they learn about how to be a team player.

One Friday afternoon we were playing against another team and there were rumblings in the ranks (thankfully not on our team as they know our Coach will not stand for it).  The conversation went a little something like this:

“We’re done, are you done?

“I don’t see why we should have to stay, I mean my daughter is finished.  Can’t we just go?”

“I have so much to do and I don’t want to get stuck in the traffic.”

Yep that apple don’t fall far from the tree.

You can always tell which schools have a sense of team and which ones can’t see past themselves.  We have played a number of teams whose girls just leave once they’re done leaving the last game standing to fend for themselves.  In fact, one of the games nearly came down to a forfeit because the match was shaping up to be a tie.  If it was a tie the rules are you all get back on the court and play another set.  But, without the girls there to get back on the court they would have to forfeit.  Oops.  Lucky we won the last game and spared them a little humiliation.

Then there was the girl who came off the court wallowing in self pity.  Here’s the conversation I overheard (in your best Kardashian voice) to a teammate who also just came off the Court:

“I’m so bummed we lost. It was so close, they were the biggest cheaters, we so should’ve won. And now I won’t be MVP” (Most Valuable Player).

But for every LA Princess you come across a girl who falls far short.

There’s one girl on our team who is nowhere close to being an LA Princess.  She’s a sub who rarely gets to play.  This girl is the first to cheer on her teammates, brings the best kick-ass snack to the games, take photos and is one of the first to ask the girls how they went in their match if they came off a different court to the one she’s been watching.

Now this girl has a lot of work to do before she can even dream of being an LA Princess. Poor darling.

2.  Let her do whatever she wants

It sounds easy enough doesn’t it? Makes your job as a parent much easier and your popularity will go through the roof!  But try as I might I just can’t seem to pull it off. If I let my daughter do whatever she wants you better head for the hills.  If a 14-year-old girl gets to gallivant around town using her Uber account and credit card without her parents knowing where she is there’s no knowing what sort of trouble she’ll get into.  And then for the rest of her life she’ll think it’s OK to do what she does.  A monster is what she’d be.  Oh wait …

3.  Let her have whatever she wants

This is where I need the most work.  I have myself the ultimate consumer.  She wants everything: new fancy fast cars for us each year (at least she’s a sharer), new clothes every time she goes shopping, lots of makeup, (expensive) jewellery, eating out at the hip & happening joints all over town and let’s not forget front row seats to every must-Snapchat-from concert.  Yep, if I followed this rule we’d be out on the street with nowhere to live.  Fortunately for most 90210 parents they have the budgets to sustain this over-the-top spending.  Fortunately, too, I hasten to add, for the LA Princess.

I once had someone beg me to let my daughter go with her daughter so her daughter wouldn’t miss out on her Snapchat-worthy event. I’ve still got a lot of work to do.  That-a-way.

4.  Don’t set any boundaries.

When we first arrived I was privy to this discussion.  Hashtag priceless.

“I took all the devices off my child yesterday.  You need to learn your lesson I told her adamantly.  Then I told her if she’s good all week tomorrow I would go and buy her a new one.  Now she has two and she uses them both. I’m so proud of her.”

Yep, you tell them.  That will teach her.

Then there was the time before that where she broke her screen.  A group of three families were out.  The then-12-year-old broke her screen on her phone.  She was crying hysterically.  Mr H said, “Don’t worry you can get the screen replaced just down the road.”  The other dad chimed in, “Yes, and we just did it for our daughter, so easy and so much better than buying a new phone.”  The next day she has a brand new phone.  It’s OK though, they fixed the old phone too.  You always need more than one phone don’t you know.

Either kids are really good here but you never hear of anyone really being grounded.  They are more like the exception to the rule.

So boundaries people, no need for them either.  Raising an LA Princes is easier than you think huh?

5.  Dress her appropriately

I have to say this is perhaps one of the most important things to consider.  There are a few looks to be embraced in order to become an LA Princess.  All of them are acceptable.

The first look is the leggings (must be a brandname, eg. Lulu Lemon) with tight top.  If the top is too long you can use an elastic to tie it above the hips to one side.

The next look is the short shorts with the Brandy Melville crop top.

Finally you can wear tight jeans with a crop top.

As the girls get older, designer handbags become the norm.  (Remember I discovered this the hard way when I first arrived).  Then designer shoes with 10” heels (they can barely walk in) start to creep into the wardrobe.  And now we are entering the “jewellery-your-mother-doesn’t-even-have” phase with the Cartier love bracelet being the piece du jour.  Buy Hermes will do too.

A word of warning about this “recipe for success”

This might seem easy but it is not as straight forward as it might seem.  You might need to play around with the proportions.

For example, some LA Princesses only need to feel like they are the centre of the universe with very little of any of the other ingredients.  Others have whatever they like but still struggle to pull off the LA Princess.  Others still have seemingly everything they want yet are still not content and are looking for something more.  Others look the part but struggle to own it; to act the part.

And others want to try to raise LA Princesses but can’t quite bring themselves to follow the rules.

We’re back in our bubble now.  For a little less than a week, however, my daughter was privy to how the rest of the world lives once again.  She said life would be much easier if we didn’t live in our bubble.  But that’s it isn’t it?  To learn to live as most people do within our bubble.

She’ll be right mate.  We got this.

xx It Started in LA xx

Election Fever hits America. With one day to go it will all be over soon. Please. | It Started in LA | itstartedinla.com
Differences between America & Australia, My LA story, Posts

Election fever hits America

Election fever hits America.  In a big way.  It’s been ONE & A HALF years in the making and “the day” is almost upon us.

It’s Monday morning here in LA and the nation is abuzz with election fever: people are going to the polls early which means the talk about going to vote must be working.

This isn’t a political Blog, I’m not political but being in America for our first election and there are so many observations I’ve made.  This election has played a big part of our daily life here: you can’t escape it.

Some of my observations are unique to America, others are themes emerging in a troubling world.

Here are five things this Aussie girl in LA has noticed over the last year and a half.

1.  The money

For God’s sake America.  Wake up and smell the coffee.  You abandoned the sovereign to create a better world.  You rejected all things of the Mother Land because you wanted better.  And you created a monster.  I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: curtail the money spending.  If you don’t have it, cut back; you can’t afford it.

I’ve mentioned the amount of money spent on those lengthy campaigns.  I’ve talked about those Conventions and how the balloons at the Democratic Convention alone would be enough to feed & house LA’s homeless (unsubstantiated but don’t let truth get in the way of a good argument).  Last night we were researching what happens on Wednesday, the day after the election and we got this story.

This struck me:

“Once either Clinton or Trump has been declared winner the new president-elect will be … given a multi-million dollar budget.

In 2008, Barack Obama was said to have employed a 450-person team at a cost of $12 million. Of that, $5.2 million as reportedly paid for by the US Government, with the remaining $6.8 million coming from private sources.”

I get that it takes money to do these things, and that people cost money, blah, blah, blah.  It just seems to be like a sh*t load of money they don’t actually have.

And can we talk for a minute about the big-time donors lining the politicians pockets, eg the NRA. I’m not saying any new here but, they’re doing that for their own gain and not for the greater good.  All that money.  Feed the homeless, help the refugees, feed the world and all that.  Ouch.  Just ouch.

2.  The media

I hate to say this but Donald Trump is right: the media is against him.  It’s not half obvious.  With the exception of Fox News (which I refuse to watch) no one is on Donald Trump’s side.

Don’t get me wrong, I get it.  But still.  There is no such thing as unbiased reporting in this country.  But in lots of ways that unbiased reporting has failed: there are still all those bloody Trump supporters out there, so loyal and so one-eyed that they fail to see anything the media is trying to tell them.

Yes, the media is having a field day with record viewers following the greatest circus on earth.  I’ll be so grateful when it’s over. I’m even looking forward to Viagra ads in place of the political ads. Prop this Prop that.  Vote.  Vote for me, vote for her, don’t vote for them.  It’s when I’m grateful other countries like Australia only have a short election cycle.

3.  The pride Americans take in announcing who they vote for

No one keeps who they vote for a secret.  It’s all out there for everyone to see and debate.  They’re so proud of who they vote for, which party they follow.

In contrast few people really talk about who they vote for in Australia.  It’s certainly not widely known, nor is it typically dinner party conversation.  It can be assumed and guessed about but not always qualified.

I don’t know who Mr H votes for.  For as long as I’ve known him he’s always told us he’s voted for the Donkey. (In Australia it’s compulsory to vote; if you don’t you get fined. People who don’t want to vote properly incorrectly fill in their voting form and that is known as a Donkey vote).  He swears he doesn’t by the way but I’ll never know.

4.  The system is so bloody complicated

My son is studying US History this year so has been able to explain some of the concepts and history behind the way this system works.  I love that he can do that as it helps to understand so much without being my “we’re so much better in Australia” diatribe.

I’ve just heard about the Electoral College having the final say.  So this group of “mainly-middle-aged-men” to the people and “a fair representation of the people” officially, meets to vote on who should be President and Vice-President.

Here’s a good video from the History Channel to illustrate:

So, I’ve learnt about the nomination process, Conventions, caucuses and Primaries and now I’ve been introduced to the Electoral College.

Wondering if the Electoral College actually votes in someone other than the people’s vote?  Me too. In 2000, for example, Al Gore got more votes than George W Bush but George W got the Electoral College vote.  Guess who was President?

Oh god no. Please don’t …

5.  The heroes and the villains

This morning I woke up to one of my favourite Blogs in the world’s Facebook post with this interview:

I have given my American friends such a hard time about these elections.  But what about this guy?  This guy who I’ve found the day before the election.  Good on you mate.  You are absolutely what America stands for, why Americans are such a pain in the ass–because they are so damned patriotic and believe–only because we are envious of you.  There are loads of people like you but, like you, we’ve seen the ugly.  Fuelled by Trump and the media we are seeing far too much of ugly America.  If you are as you say, and this happened as you said, you are not.

You are a hero.

So who are the villains?

Well that’s easy: Donald Trump.  Donald Trump is a bully.  He is bigly awful.  Full stop.  Period.  Go away Donald Trump; you’re bringing out the worst in your followers.  You are bringing us back decades.  Nothing you say has substance and nothing you do is inspiring.

The day after the night before

What will you be doing on Wednesday? My son and his friends were pondering what a weird day Wednesday will be: the aftermath.  I couldn’t agree more.  But these guys aren’t President straight away. Obama still has time to “finish doing what he set out to do” and come January 20, 2017 at noon the new President and Vice-President will be sworn in.

So there’ll still be plenty of time for the media to ease their way out of it gently.  Please let go, please move on.

In the meantime good luck world.

Good Luck America.

xx It Started in LA xx

PS: There is a petition to shorten America’s election cycle. If you agree with Sheryl Crowe that it needs some help click here and have your say.

PPS: If Trump gets in do you think that Wall will be strong enough to fight the stampede out of the US? The mind boggles.

Headline image by Lipton sale (talk) – self-made, CC BY-SA 3.0, Link

What is the fine line between Neighbourhood Watch and stalking ... or just plain nosey? | It Started in LA | itstartedinla.com
Celebrity, My LA story, Posts

Neighbourhood watch or stalking?

 

When does Neighbourhood Watch get classified as stalking–or just plain nosey?

 

When did neighbourhood watch become stalking?  There’s stalking.  And then there’s stalking.  Right?  In my best Kim Kardashian voice: I feel like the term stalking is so overused these days.

These days stalking describes social media habits—you know the ones? Your Facebook friends who know exactly what you’ve been up to but don’t ever press the like button (you know who you are).  Then there’s the people that hop on your Instagram and browse your page and like all the photos they haven’t liked because, well, they like them.  In this day and age this is stalking.  The fear of the double-tap is real people.

Neighbourhood watch

What about when you have a neighbour who happens to be an actor and you glance over to see if there’s any activity in the front yard.  Is that stalking?  We all do it, don’t we? Glance over to see what the neighbours are up to?  Don’t we or is that just me?  In my day it was Neighborhood Watch—note the capitals to show it’s a genuine bona fide program.  These days (especially if you live next door to a person of interest) it’s called stalking.

Is it stalking when you follow them in the car because you both happen to leave your houses at the same time? That happened to me the other week.  He pulled out first (unbeknown to me) and I was on my way to tennis.  How was I supposed to know that he was traveling in my direction? For the longest time.  The longest time.  Suddenly I felt like a stalker yet all I was doing was doing what I always do on a Thursday morning.

It got so bad that I put my indicator on and moved into the right-hand lane ultra early so he’d know I had a purpose—and that purpose was not to follow him.  How was I supposed to know that he was turning right on that street too? Maybe he was stalking me? I’ve never been so relieved to see the tennis courts were up ahead and I was turning off thus ending the seemingly stalking-like behaviour.  (And, by the way, in case he was stalking me he now knows where I play tennis.)

There was the time Miss 14 and I were reversing out of house and we noticed his double doors that we hadn’t noticed before.  We were noticing how nice they looked. “Oh God mum, he’s caught us stalking him how embarrassing.”

“That’s not stalking, that’s admiring his doors,” I was quick to comment back.  Isn’t it?

Admiring our house

Maybe he’s a little paranoid of stalking us too.  He told me he loved our house and how pretty it is.  “If you catch me staring at your house it’s just because I think it’s so beautiful”.  (See, goes to argument of him stalking me.)

When we got our beautiful new gate put in, he fell in love with our house all over again.  My daughter was walking out the gates and caught him looking in.  “Just admiring your beautiful new gates,” he said.

When Mr 16 got his car and licence I saw him not long after and said, “Check it, I have my very own driver now.”

“I know,” he replied.

See?  See?  It’s not stalking to survey the scene, admire the renovations, goings on, check that everything is as it should be; look, notice and move on.  I think that’s healthy good neighbour behaviour.  And if he was anyone other that who he is then I wouldn’t even be having this conversation with you.

Mrs Mangle/Mrs Kravitz/Nosey neighbour

But at what point does “genuinely-interested-neighbourhood-watch-neighbour-who’s-not-a-stalker” turn into “nosey-neighbour”?

Nosey neighbours make great television.  Over the years there has been many a classic nosey neighbour (whom I hasten to add you love to hate).  They invented Neighbourhood Watch.

In conducting a little research I came across this post.

I get it—there are definitely those neighbours who gawk and spend hours out the window with curiosity at fever pitch.  But that’s not me.  Is it?

My 16-year old and I were out the front washing cars and he came out into his front yard.  We couldn’t see him, we could only hear him.  My first instinct was to yell over the fence, “Hi. Need your car washed?” But all I could think of was nosey Mrs Mangle from Neighbours or that Mrs Kravitz from Bewitched.

Remember this is the young lad that knocked on my door when he first bought the house?  I can say “hi” can’t I?

But instead we stayed quiet and pretended that we didn’t know he was there.  How lame is that?  I wanted to say hi, why shouldn’t I say hi but the kids’ paranoia coupled with my vision of Mrs Kravitz trying to catch her neighbours out stopped me dead in my tracks.

Instead of friendly neighbour saying hi all I could picture was that dreaded neighbour who comes out from out of the bushes every single time you head outside saying, “Yoohoo”.  Damn you stalkers and nosey neighbours.  You make it hard for us normal non-stalking stalkers to live.

Mrs Kravitz

Mrs Kravtiz from Bewitched (image copied from Michael in Madrid the Blog).

Bodyguards outside my house

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned before that my daughter has a rather famous friend.  I think I may have but those of you who are new to the Blog might not know.  Anyway, this friend has been coming over to the house a bit lately.  His visit comes with a bodyguard.  Sometimes I know who the bodyguard will be, other times I don’t.

The first time I knew the bodyguard was going to be outside I thought I better text G to let him know the person sitting in the car outside my house is not paparazzi, nor a stalker but a bodyguard.

There’s quite a perk to having a bodyguard stationed outside your house.  Firstly, well it’s obvious, you feel safe.  And let’s face it in LA that’s as good as it gets.

Their very first “hang” I was told they’d be fine as the bodyguard would be there to watch over them.  I must admit my first thought was that’s all great but if something’s going to happen your bodyguard is paid to protect your son and my daughter might not be able to get the same level of protection.  I don’t know how this all works, it’s still new to me.

The second perk to having a bodyguard stationed out the front of your house is well … the couple I’ve met have been very easy on the eye.

Will the real nosey neighbour please stand up

The guy that lives opposite from us walks his dog 10 times a day.  He stops outside your house, looks in, lurks and lurks.  When we first moved in, he and his mates would sit in his garage talking for most of the day.  I thought this was fabulous: the best neighbourhood watch you can get.

Then when my gate and front fence were being put in my “gate guy” would report back on his chats through the day.  The real nosey neighbour was telling our gate guy about how the neighbours didn’t want our house built, how the lady on the corner asked everyone why they needed to tear down a perfectly good house to make way for a new one.  I’m pretty sure this guy knows everything that goes on at my place.  I warned G when he moved in.

We look straight into his place from ours so it’s actually much easier to stalk him than it is G next door.  We never really see anyone other than him.  Sometimes we see someone who may be his son, rarely see any females but there are three cars in their drive.  The one thing that strikes us though is the number of people who pull up, go into their garage and come out again.  Some come with packages, others don’t.  That’s what’s earnt him the nickname  “The Drug Dealer”.

In a further twist, one day I was at the kids school picking them up and there he was waiting in the carpark.  I have no idea who he was picking up.  I have no idea what he was doing there.

I’d know if someone from school lived near us as we have a carpool dating app.  The carpool dating app essentially allows us to hook up with our neighbours to arrange to carpool to and from school.  If you don’t carpool then you have to drop off ultra early and pick up ultra late so it’s in your best interests to hook up.  Plus it saves you driving the school every day.  And, in a very un-American twist they police it.

A real stalker would have stayed in the car to see just who he was picking up and work out exactly what he was doing there.  Was he making a drug delivery?

But alas, I’m a failure in the nosey neighbour/stalker department.

We haven’t seen the drug dealer at school since but the mind boggles.

Facebook stalking

I don’t know about you but I don’t have time to Facebook stalk.  I always forget to even when I think I should go into their page and see what’s been going on.  But, when I comment on someone’s post I get the notifications and occasionally one pops up and you think, “get out of town” or “that’s interesting”.

Over the weekend it was a friend’s birthday.  Birthday post notifications were coming in thick and fast.  One post caught my attention as I recognised the surname.  Yes, it was the wife of one of my fave actors, minding her own business commenting on a friend’s post just like I did, safe in obscurity.  Well from everyone that is but this alleged-not-so-good-at-being-nosey stalker.

Just another one of those, “Holy cow I do live in LA don’t I?” moments.

When good neighbours become good friends

Back to neighbours, or neighbourhood watch as the case might be.

When I was growing up one of my fondest memories was being outside painting with my Dad.  The neighbour dad comes out and says hi, two seconds later neighbour mum comes out saying come for a drink.  Next thing you know there were four neighbour families all having drinks, which turned to dinner and we didn’t leave til the wee hours in the morning. Fun times.

You tell me.  Be honest.  Pretend I’m still neighbours with Sue & Tony in Sydney, or Sue & John in Shanghai, or the neighbours I grew up with.  Do you think I’m nosey or a “stalker” or just a friendly neighbour?  I would think nothing of calling out to them, or inviting them over for a drink.  It would be rude if I didn’t.  Or they didn’t.

But they’re not actors whose every move are scrutinised in the tabloids I suppose.  Watch this space.

xx It Started in LA xx

Only in LA: The day a famous actor knocked on our door to introduce himself as our new neighbour | It Started in LA | itstartedinla.com
Celebrity, My LA story, Posts

The day a famous actor moved in next door

Moving to The Valley

I’m not living in 90210 anymore, instead I’m a “Valley Girl”.  There is a whole backstory (and a half) that goes along with the move but for now let me tell you this: I didn’t want to move; I wanted to keep my 90210 postcode.  Who wouldn’t?

Apart from loving the area, having friends close; we were surrounded by “celebrities” new and old, famous and infamous.  I knew there were many celebrities in the Valley too but most likely not in my street or little neighbourhood.

That’s where I was wrong.

Yep, my life is not scripted or made more dramatic for the Blog, my life is just very LA.  The day a ‘famous’ actor moved in next door.

When your neighbour turns out to be “so so famous”

The day we moved in our neighbours put up a For Sale sign.  Nice welcome.  Thank God they did because they weren’t very nice and not at all friendly.

Fast forward six or so weeks (the house sold within 10 days of being on the market) and the house was abuzz with renovation.  That afternoon I got a knock at the door.

(The shitty thing about moving down into the suburbs of The Valley is that it’s too easy to walk up and down the streets so we get every man and his dog wanting to sell us their wares and convert us to ‘see the light”.)

So that afternoon I get a knock on my door.  And it’s not someone in black pants and a white shirt or someone selling LA Times subscriptions.

At my door is a rather groovily dressed guy in hipster pants, a T-Shirt, and a red baseball cap.

“Hi.  My name is Glenn and I’ve just moved in next door.”

1.  Glenn is not his real name so you can forget about switching over to Google ‘Celebrities with the name Glenn’.

2.  He had the most delightful British accent—music to my ears.

He continues, “I’m so sorry about the noise, I’m renovating my house and I asked the guys to start at 7am but I heard they started at 6am.”

“No problems,” I replied.  “We’re up anyway and we didn’t even notice the noise.”

Did I mention he had a plant in hand, handing it over as a “peace offering”?

What beautiful manners was my first reaction.  It’s not often I’ve seen anyone here with such consideration for the neighbours let alone coming in with a thoughtful gift.  Ah! That’s because he’s not from these parts.

It was a short encounter, he handed over the gift, we exchanged pleasantries and I got on with my afternoon.  Actually, truth be told, I wasn’t very warm—I should have invited him in but I was so fearful of our dog weeing all over him that I barely had the door open wide enough for him to feel the least bit welcome.  And why is it that whenever I get a random knock at the door I’m looking like shite?

Celebrity next door?

That night as everyone was coming home we talked about how exciting it was to have a non-American neighbour (sorry American friends) who was thoughtful and youthful.  (I’ve guessed his age as mid to late 20s).  We haven’t had a great trot with neighbours so I didn’t want to get too carried away.  For now I reserve my judgement, on a scale of 1 to 10, as 7.0—hopeful.

My daughter asked me what the neighbour did.

“I don’t know, we didn’t get that far,” I said.  “I assume he’s an actor.”

My daughter laughed at me.  “Mum, you just assume everyone in LA is an actor.  Or at least in Entertainment. They don’t have to be you know; you’re so weird.”

She was right of course.  He didn’t look like an actor, he was totally unassuming and he was incredibly nice and polite.

So we started talking about the assumptions you make when you live in a certain place.

“What would you assume he did if we were in Sydney?” my daughter asked. “Well most people in Sydney work traditional hours.  I guess he would be in IT (working from home).”

In Wales it’s easy as many people work shift work. In China … well I don’t think that would happen as everyone goes to an office–maybe work in hospitality but by that time of day they would already be at work.

So I saw Glenn a number of times as he set about renovating his house to move in.

He moved in and there was music coming from his backyard and a bit of life in what is otherwise a quiet neighbourhood.  it was good.  A week later, as he kids had friends over with the music going, there was a little gathering going on next door.

My son’s British friend noted, “your new neighbours are lit.”

“Yeah right”, I said, “He’s British.”  We laughed and thought nothing more of it.

Than we noticed our dream car—Audi R8—outside the front of our house.

He must totally be an actor.

Living next door to a celebrity

Another week goes by and one night my daughter sees “someone” coming and going from our neighbour’s house. She yells from her room.

“Mum, there’s a famous guy next door.  Is he visiting or is our neighbour famous?”

“I’m not sure honey, let’s see.”

By some stroke of a miracle the “famous guy” comes back down his drive.

“Oh honey, that’s Glenn.  That’s our neighbour.”

Squeals of delight and excitement ensue with a shrill only a 13 year-old can pull off.  In one Snapchat her entire friend network knows the news.

More screams.

“Oh my God, I’m pretty sure I just read he recently moved in with his girlfriend. And <screams> you know who it is? It’s Hannah Montana (clearly NOT a real person but I’m not going to divulge her real name and you get the idea that we’re actually talking about someone with HIGH name recognition amongst the tweens and teens).

More squeals … and lots of Googling.

“Oh my God, oh my God, I’m living next door to HANNAH MONTANA.”

And so, my fear of moving away from the celebrity action couldn’t be further from the truth.  Instead I have a bona fide ‘it’ couple living right next door to me.

Ah LA you never cease to amaze.

xx It Started in LA xx

A blog post looking at how kids in 90210 spend their free time--what do they do for fun? | It Started in LA | itstartedinla.com
Celebrity, My LA story, Posts

What do Beverly Hills kids do for fun?

Such a good question: what do kids in Beverly Hills kids do for fun? Perhaps we need a branch-off reality series: the Real Kids of Beverly Hills.  (Dibbs: if that comes out I want a cut of the takings).

Of course, in all seriousness, this was one of my fears: how do I raise a “normal” child in LA.  It’s true I was focussed more on the safety of “living in America” (you know? guns, mass shootings and metal detectors) but also going into a private school with many celebrity kids and alumni alike I was worried about “keeping up with the 90210-ers”.

But it’s just about the money.  In some ways, that’s the easy bit.  (If you’re relatively new to the Blog you might have missed my post on handbags & designer clothes.  You can link back to read it here.  And it might be time to freshen it up as it’s a little too cryptic in hindsight).

No matter where you live you come across some parents who are prepared to let their kids do stuff and others not so much.  Then there are those “in-betweens”.  That’s me—somewhere in-between.  When we lived in Shanghai the teenagers grew up really quickly.  With no legal drinking age, a really safe City and these people called “drivers” and things called taxis, kids start going to Clubs when they’re 15.  I was happy not to have my kids growing up in that environment (despite doing something similar at that age).  But LA is a different kettle of fish again.

Cut back to present day LA …

My 13-year-old daughter wanted to go to The Grove shopping with her own with a friend.  I love the Grove but it’s often packed, filled with tourists and very, very exposed.  I didn’t want her going without a parent lurking somewhere close by.  She’s still only 13.  Right?  Plus, I didn’t let my son start going to the larger Malls until he was 14/15.  On top of that I don’t know about you but I hate the whole “Let’s-go-hang-out-at-the-mall-today” thing.  It’s just so … eek and unimaginative and, well, even I don’t like hanging out in Malls.

Thankfully her friend’s mum was of the same opinion as me and together we poo-pooed it.  Five minutes of incessant texts asking “Why?”, “The Grove is safe”, “Now we have nothing to do” and that was it.  Radio silence.

Beverly Hills kids

Then, no more than 10 minutes later all was good in the world again. She was at her friend’s place having a lovely time. I got sent pics of houses and locations all over her friend’s gated community.  They both have very 90210 Segways (you know the ones without the handles?) so they went riding around, exploring.  Happy as can be.  Beverly Hills kids indeed, with a touch of my normal.

“We’re at Gwen Stefani’s house” was the next text.  “It’s so cool.”  Then, “I can’t send you a photo because there’s security watching.”

Celebrity

It’s OK, there’s a bit of an unwritten rule anyway that if you go to a famous person’s house that you’re mindful of what you take photos of—and what you post.  Same if you’re going to live in the same community as Gwen Stefani there’s an unwritten good-neighbour policy that goes along with that.  We’ve also had the discussion about when she goes into famous friends’ parties.  Even if they’re really, really famous! (And it kills this Blogger that she can’t write about them).

Still on Gwen Stefani, my friend—her friend’s mum—drives the same car as Gwen (not me LA Gwen, Stefani Gwen).  One day, back when speculation was rife surrounding her relationship with whatsis-face-Blake-country-dude she was coming out of her community, was going to turn right, hesitated and instead turned right.  She thought nothing of the car following her except they were travelling at some speed.  When she got to the traffic lights she saw the driver with a long lens on their camera.  One solid look at her and the camera went down and it was back to see if they had missed the real Gwen coming out.  Poor Gwen.

I do love seeing the paparazzi, it makes me feel like I live in LA.  Remember when I hadn’t been here that long and I had my brush with the paps courtesy of JLo?

But the converse of that is feeling sorry for people like Gwen who, apart from the sanctity of her home, can’t escape the attention.  I wrote about how since I arrived in LA I’ve changed my opinion of celebrities and how I don’t believe we have a right to judge them I got a bit of heckling back.  The argument is when you put yourself out there and make money from being in the spotlight then you are asking to be scrutinised.

I don’t think so, I think it’s two very separate things.  You can be curious (like, let’s face it we were with Gwen Stefani) but you don’t have a right to be part of their lives and intrude in a sanctity that is their privacy.  My humble opinion.  (And don’t give me that shit about they became a singer or actor to get celebrity; very few people I know actually think like that and their “celebrity” often catches them off guard.)

Don’t be hating

I have a friend who is very successful, he has a great Instagram account and understands that his money is made from the people that support and buy his product.  What upsets me is when people start being nasty.  And do they ever let loose.  Being out there in the spotlight is like a target to the power target.  People feel fine commenting on someone’s social media accounts because they don’t have to say it to their face so they feel protected.  For some reason, if you’re a well-known identity or celebrity—or you put yourself out there like I and many other Bloggers do—then it’s OK to say whatever you like.  Like nasty comments won’t hurt them.  The more famous you are doesn’t automatically mean you get an extra layer of protection to stop getting hurt by what people say about you.  NO MATTER HOW FAMOUS.  And, by the way, sometimes you get even more sensitive.

So, yes, I felt for Gwen Stefani.  I love whenever I visit my friends seeing the tour buses stopping at the front—we often wave to them even when they get in our way!  It’s part of living where we do in LA.  And part of how this Blog started.  And it’s fun to get a glimpse of the paparazzi waiting for some action.  Again, it’s part of living in LA.  But, it’s also good to stop and reflect on the reality of those people being there means to some.

Oh, that also answers the question are they all looked after by Nannies.  Most of my kids friends aren’t; only a small handful are.  And even then their parents are very hands-on and connected.  And only a couple of them have Bodyguards.  (Just thought I’d throw that in there for you to see if you’re reading along).

But where was I?  Oh yes, what Beverly Hills kids do for fun.

Postmates

On the other side of town my son was hanging with a friend.  Collectively he and two friends are obsessed with Garlo’s Aussie Pies, an Australian pie shop here in LA.  On my way to dropping my son I needed to go to the ATM.  To get to the ATM I have to drive right past their shop so I suggested we pick up their pies.

“No, you can’t do that mum, we’re getting Postmates.”

“Oh, you’re not getting Garlo’s anymore, you’re getting something else.”

“No, we’re getting Garlo’s.”

“OK, well seeing as we’re here why don’t I get it.”

“But we’re getting Postmates.”

“Yes, but we’re here”.

Whatever. Seriously.

If you haven’t worked it out Postmates is “Uber for food.”

It’s the app of choice for 90210 kids who need something to eat and whose parents are happy to pay the $4.99++ delivery fee—plus tip.

When it first launched in LA kids were ordering $3.99 Frappuccino’s from Starbucks and paying $4.99 to have it delivered plus tip.

And my daughter wondered why I wouldn’t let her do it.

“$10 for a Frappuccino to be delivered?  Are you aware there are refugees trying to flee Syria right now and countries who still don’t believe girls should be educated?” is my catch-cry du jour.

“Fine. You’re so embarrassing.”

Fortunately, we’ve stopped having the Frappuccino battle and I think I’ve even relented once and paid the delivery fee for take-away (take-out) one night.  But I also don’t really need to when we still have old-fashioned take-away services where restaurants deliver for free.  And I still don’t have to resort to Domino’s or Pizza Hut.

Speaking of Uber

Yes, so speaking of Uber, that would be the main form of transport of the kids these days. Even for my kids. It’s actually really convenient and great value.  I still like getting in the car and driving them–let’s face it it’s how you get all the gossip–but when the LA traffic is going to get the better of you, I find it more than OK.

Taking it possibly a bit far is the kids who book an Uber to pick them up from school.  And, there are also those kids who Postmates themselves after school.  (Note to self: check if they do it at lunch time).  Oh the things money can buy; and here’s me thinking you can use money for good.

And, to answer the private jet question, yes a couple of our friends regularly travel in private jets. There could be more and others I know have done on an ad hoc basis.  My daughter has been invited more than once  (unfortunately for her she couldn’t join them) and I’m not sure I’ll ever score an invite but hey, it’s LA so you never, never know.

What’s going on in your part of town?  What do your kids do for fun?  Are you happy with what they do or do you have to step in and play bad cop?  Would love to hear all about it.

 

xx It Started in LA xx

PS: Sadly our favourite Aussie pie shop, Garlo’s, is now closed. We’re hoping it’s coming back in some way shape or form. We’re awaiting more news in that department. Please oh please come back.

Los Angelinos love to talk routes | It Started in LA | itstartedinla.com
Differences between America & Australia, My LA story, Posts

Los Angelinos love to talk routes

This entry is part 2 of 2 in the series Los Angelinos love to ...

Los Angelinos love to talk “routes”

Routes.  Better known to us Aussies as which way to go.

We call them “roots” they call them “rowtes” (row as in argument not what you do in a boat).  However you say it Los Angelinos love to talk about it.  It starts every conversation when you meet up somewhere, and it will be the last conversation you will have when you part ways.

“Which way are you going…?”

“Which way did you come…?”

“Did you take the 405…?”

“Which way should we go, the 101 is busy at this time of day, is it quicker to use the side streets?”

Even recently, when an Australian friend was talking about which way her friends were going on the way from the airport to her place, she said this:

“From LAX they took the 105 to the 10 to the 101….”  Only at the end did she say “they went via Downtown.”

The sad part about that is not that she just didn’t say, “yeah, they went via Downtown,” it’s that I actually could picture the “route” (said with an American pronunciation if you will) they took.

One time when I hadn’t been here too long and went off to Disneyland for the first time my friend said, “Let me send you the best way to get down there.”

405S
105E
605S
91E
5S
Disneyland exit.

“Don’t I just plug it in my GPS and follow?”

Which way you go is a sport in LA.

And now it’s fuelled by apps like Waze (pronounced ways) that will tell you the “fastest” way to get to a given destination.

Waze has fuelled the discussion even more making it an extreme sport.

“Did you check Waze?”

“What does your Waze say?”

And Waze has a lot to answer for in the back streets of LA.  I’m too lazy and selfish to suck up my phone’s battery to use Waze.  My GPS will be just fine.  But I have to confess I’m getting suckered into the “Which route …?” discussion too.

Gotta love LA.

xx It Started in LA xx

 

Celebrity, My LA story

The Kevin Bacon Game

Do you know the Kevin Bacon Game? It’s basically where you can put any actor within six degrees of separation from Kevin Bacon.

Well … I just found out at a dinner that I can put myself within two degrees of separation of Kevin Bacon.

We went to a “rigged” school event/dinner party at a friend’s house on Saturday night.  I say rigged because it was an Auction item at last year’s end-of-year Fair and we had to buy tickets to join.  But our hosts gave us the “heads-up” to get together a fun group of like-minded people.

At dinner we played the game, two truths and a lie.  As the name suggests we had to give three facts about ourselves, one of which was a lie.

As one of the facts one of our hosts said she walked down the aisle alongside Kevin Bacon.  Truth!  Wow, she was a bridesmaid alongside Kevin Bacon.  So, she’s linked to Kevin Bacon and everyone else at that dinner table are now two degrees of to the very same.  And now, as one of my loyal readers, you are three degrees of separation from Kevin Bacon.  See how easy this game is?  How much fun it is.

Uber

You know we love Uber here in LA.  I don’t know what the sticking point is getting it over the line in Australia but we are regular users–and lovers–of Uber.

In the last couple of weeks though we’ve hit a couple of snags.  Firstly I had a little incident a few weeks ago which clearly caused one of the drivers to rate us badly.  We thought we checked everything off with him to make sure we were all good.  He said we were but between late Friday night and early Sunday morning there became a problem.

Now every time we’ve tried to book an Uber X the drivers cancel us.  Now the simple job of getting an Uber is not so simple.

Then last weekend we came across some other unfamiliar Uber Ts&Cs.  One of our friends decided it was time to go home so ordered their Uber.  I managed to convince them to stay but the time I’d done that the Uber had arrived.  So out I go and chat to the driver and apologise and ask him if it’s OK with him to cancel.

“Sure,” he says, “no problems.  Do me a favour though and press cancel the job.  That will look better for me.”

“Will that affect his rating?” I cleverly ask.

“No, not at all,” was the reply.

“Well not a problem,” I replied while pressing cancel.  “Thanks so much,” I said.

About half an hour later my mate yells out to me, “Gwen, you owe me $10 Uber just charged me to cancel.”

And it was off, I was straight on the phone to Mr Uber driver and argued with him that perhaps he should have told me when he “innocently” asked me to cancel the trip as it will help him.

After going around in circles I told him I had a party to get back to but he wouldn’t hear the end of it from me.

Then a couple of hours later the same thing happened to us.  We got the call to say our Uber had arrived, we said our goodbyes then as we were walking out the door we saw the Uber driver driving off.  It was late so we weren’t lurking–we have been longer waiting to be picked up to go out as I finish getting ready or walk down our steep poorly paved drive.  We got charged a $5 no-show fee.

What the Uber?  We love you but it’s also possible for a love affair to go sour.  I’m putting you on notice.

Top 13 celebrity encounters in LA so far

All the talk of the last two years in LA, and my two degrees of separation from Kevin Bacon has prompted me to list my top 10 celebrity encounters to date.  It’s still bizarre to me that one move as a result of one job offer puts me in LA writing a blog about some of my surreal experiences–experiences would just reply, “Get of out town” to a mere 25 months ago.

  1. Going to my kids’ first swim meet and seeing Rod Stewart sitting on the Bleachers. Then realising his son goes to our school.  After only a few weeks in LA…
  2. Saying about the son of a big-time pop star, “I would have picked him up and taken them [out], next time please feel free to ask me,” without thinking about what it means.  To me, they’re just normal people and we’re doing normal things.
  3. Looking up from my mobile phone at the Golden Globes after-party and realising I was following Rhianna.   Into a VIP section.  And being able to be there.
  4. Seeing J Lo and Mary J Blige out for dinner at one of my favourite WeHo restaurants.
  5. Seeing dozens of paparazzi waiting outside for JLo on that same night.  And posing for them.
  6. Having friends from Australia with us and apologising for the “dud” celeb-spotting night when JLo walks in. And gets sat across from us.  Then seeing the look on the face of the Maître D when he realised he’d sat her across from me!
  7. Sitting in front of Sandra Bullock at a school PA (Parents Association) meeting.
  8. Coming head-to-head with Beyonce and Jay Z on New Year’s Day night in a narrow LA street. Jay Z politely reversed up the hill to let us through.
  9. Sitting in a classroom with Warren Beatty.
  10. Telling Taylor Swift how I thought she was a fabulous role model for girls everywhere at the Golden Globes.
  11. Seeing Sandra Bullock, Keanu Reeves AND Hugh Grant eating together at my favourite hip WeHo restaurant.
  12. Seeing David Duchovny standing outside a sound stage at Mr H’s Studios. Then thinking it was a look-alike.
  13. Seeing Duff McKagan recently all rock-starred up (ie like he’s just finished filming a music video) rather than “conservativing-up” his look.

I’ve had to stop at 13 otherwise it will just end up being a list of all my celebrity encounters!  What’s worse is now my standards are much higher–how quickly you get acclimated (sorry climatised)!  I’m going to redo this in 6-12 months’ time and see if it changes.

Enjoy your week, go the Wallabies to beat the All-Blacks in a nail-biting but “good-for-rugby” World Cup Final.

xx It Started in LA xx

Moving to LA, My LA story, Posts

Finding somewhere to live in LA

Finding somewhere to live in LA

I started this little trip down memory lane a few months ago, reminiscing about all the things we needed to do to see if living in LA would work out for us.

When I last left you we were on a plane bound for LA with appointments at two schools and time set aside with a relocation agent to try to find somewhere to live in LA.

Qantas A380 SYD-LA

One the plane ready to interview with LA schools & find somewhere to live. Wish us luck | It Started in LA

 

Our first step was getting through our interviews at the two schools we chose. Once we had a better idea whether or not we’d get in then we could start narrowing our search for somewhere to live.

Ten private schools to consider in LA

I realise I didn’t name the schools in my last post. And, if you’re coming to LA and looking for private schools you’re going to need a few names to start with. Here were some of the names on our list to help give you a start.

  1. Harvard-Westlake
  2. Brentwood School
  3. Oakwood
  4. Buckley
  5. Campbell Hall
  6. Polytechnic
  7. Crossroads
  8. Wildwood
  9. Chadwick School
  10. Windward School

This is by no way definitive—do your research and check the area they’re in first. Unless you’re a good commuter you don’t want to work on one side of LA, living on the other and having your kids at school in the opposite direction to both.

For single sex schools you might also consider:

  1. Loyola HS (Yrs 9-12)
  2. Marymount HS (yrs 9-12)
  3. Crespi HS (Yrs 9-12)
  4. Marlborough
  5. Archer School for Girls

Eight areas to consider when finding somewhere to live in LA

You’re getting the message there are lots of different areas to live in LA and, not unlike anywhere else in the world, it dictates the type of lifestyle you’ll have when you move. If you’re relocating for work then you know where your office is. We knew MR H’s office was going to be in Hollywood. I knew I wanted to be close to the action and I didn’t want him to have a long commute—we wanted to replicate our Sydney experience as closely as we could because that works for us.

I opened Google Maps and started to look at different areas that could work for us. Here are some of our choices and/or suggestions.

1.   Santa Monica

We heard Santa Monica was a bit tricky to get into and out of but being relatively self-contained, and by the beach, it would be a great lifestyle choice for us. The bonus was that the public schools were good so the extra rent could be saved in free public schooling.

Pros: Beachside, up to 20 degrees (F) cooler than in town and with everything at your fingertips you rarely need to leave.

Cons: Much smaller houses and high rent gives you less bang for buck. The traffic getting into and out of Santa Monica could also be a downer if you’re not used to it.

2.   Hollywood Hills

When you think of Hollywood Hills you think mansion after mansion of sprawling celebrity estates. But there are some nice neighbourhoods that don’t have to break your budget and I like the feel of the area, plus it’s convenient for all of us.

Pros: Great areas, good choice of houses, retro style.

Cons: nothing really—just have to find the house.

3.   Pacific Palisades

It’s a lovely area but you can’t get much further away from Hollywood. For some reason our Relocation agent kept pushing us towards the Palisades. We’ve since found out there’s a great Charter School there and many people try to get their kids in here as an alternative to Private School but we weren’t told that at the time.  Anyway, for us the commute is the deal breaker.

Pros: Great neighbourhood and community

Cons: A long commute to Hollywood for Mr H and I felt like I’d be isolated away from the shopping and restaurant districts of West Hollywood and Beverly Hills.

4.   The Valley

Movies have been made on the area–remember Valley Girls? We were advised to consider the valley because of its more affordable houses, and if you go out further enough you get good schools and McMansions—bigger houses and better bang for buck.

After two and a half years of living in Beverly Hills we bought a house in the Valley (Sherman Oaks).  It’s nice and close to school, it’s not far from our old house, it’s close to the freeways to get around town and we can walk to shops and restaurants.  We feel like it has given us a new lease on life in LA.  It’s great for us and it’s great for the kids.

Pros: Bigger houses, lots of pools.

Cons: 50,000,000 degrees hotter in summer.

5.   Beverly Hills &/or West Hollywood

I didn’t really think we were going to consider Beverly Hills because it’s well … Beverly Hills. But like the Hollywood Hills Beverly Hills isn’t all mansions, there are some more affordable areas.

South of Santa Monica is still Beverly Hills and it borders West Hollywood. This is definitely the area I would have loved to live in.

Pros: Proximity to shopping and restaurants.

Cons: There is absolutely nothing wrong with Beverly Hills as long as you can find the house.  West Hollywood too for that matter.

6.   Pasadena

Pasadena comes highly recommended by a great many people for its culture, great schools and lifestyle. We didn’t consider it though as it was a commute for all of us.

Pros: Lots of people love it and a good school district.

Cons: The commute–unless you’re working in the area.

7.   Brentwood or Westwood

Brentwood was nice and close to Santa Monica making it convenient to the beach yet still convenient enough for Mr H and work.

Pros: Great location with close proximity to beaches and still easy access to West Hollywood and Beverly Hills restaurants.

Cons: Not much good stock in our price range.

8.   South Bay

Many people come to SoCal (Southern California) for the lifestyle. So it’s no surprise that people are attracted to the South Bay area encompassing Manhattan Beach, Redondo Beach and Hermosa Beach.

Pros: Good schools, beautiful shops and township, community feeling

Cons: Quite the commute!

9.  Hancock Park

Bordering Melrose and West Hollywood Hancock Park is a beautiful leafy suburb in the middle of concrete-paradise LA.  It has great schools nearby and lots of the private schools have buses to and from each day.

Pros: Convenient to Hollywood and Downtown, great community neighbourhood.

Cons: It’s pretty hard to find good houses available for rent–but do put it on your list if it’s convenient for you.

Plus two other neighbourhoods I’d add to my list:

10.  Silver Lake & Los Feliz

Silver Lake is on the other side of the 101 off Sunset.  It’s hip & happening, funky, groovy and an eclectic group of people.  I’m not sure there are many private schools in the area but if I were a young family this is where I’d want to be.

11.  Culver City

Culver City has come a long way even from when we moved here: new restaurants and shops and it’s close to the Studios, especially Sony Pictures.

Plus, many other studios and entertainment businesses are setting up shop there.

 

Map of LA according to LAist

LA Stereotypes according to LAist

 

Our journey two years ago finding somewhere to live in LA

We spent a lot of time covering different areas of LA looking for something semi-decent in our price range. We wanted a spare room and a pool and didn’t think it was a huge ask. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. In a horrible wake-up call it felt like we were struggling Uni students on a measly budget. Every house we went into was depressing—wardrobe doors that wouldn’t open or close let alone you wouldn’t want to put your clothes in, small and dirty kitchens, rundown houses with filthy carpet and—if there was a pool—grimy and couldn’t be less inviting if they tried. I felt like I was visiting Neil, Vivienne, Mike & Neil from The Young Ones.

Not one house we visited in the first couple of days would be one we’d be happy to visit let alone call home. It was back to the drawing board—we’d need to up our budget and/or forgo the guest room.

It was easier to find a house to suit our needs in Shanghai—a city where the majority of people couldn’t speak English—than it was in Los Angeles, one of America’s largest and most prestigious cities.

To say our relocation agent was useless was an understatement. She seemed surprised that we didn’t like any of the houses she showed us so we took things into our own hands. We started trawling the rental websites looking for places, increasing our budget and seeing where the sweet spot would be for us to find something vaguely decent. I thought getting into a school would be the problem, not finding a house.

We found a few places in West Hollywood and I decided this would be a perfect area for us—close the action like we were in Australia, not far from Mr H’s work and it wouldn’t be too bad getting the kids to a nearby bus stop for school commuting.

Everytime we sent our relocation agent a place we wanted to check out in West Hollywood she’d ignore it. I’d ask her when I saw her next how she’s going securing us an appointment she’d defensively say, “it takes time to get an appointment, please bear with me.”

Then Mr H said, about one particular place that looked really quite promising, “that was one of the first places we sent you,” she finally started saying something about West Hollywood being a questionable place to live.

She was alluding to the fact that—shock horror—there were a lot of gay people that lived in the area. We reminded her that we lived in inner city Sydney and we’ve always had lovely gay neighbours and we were very comfortable with this. Despite writing her a brief on our family and our tastes, she couldn’t relate to us because her picture of us had us in a family-oriented neighbourhood with conservative values.

After brushing us off to a Real-Estate agent to continue house hunting we hit the ground running with a full schedule of houses to visit. The Agent would give us a list of houses, we’d check the maps and drive past the house, then provide a short list of the ones we liked that we wanted to see inside.

That’s when we thought we were going to end up living in either the Hollywood Hills or Beverly Hills—great proximity to Hollywood and not bad for the kids for school.

After a week of solid searching and being totally despondent we settled on two houses—one in Beverly Hills off Mulholland Drive and the other in the Hollywood Hills. I was overruled and we put an application in for the house in the Hollywood Hills. It had a pool that was swimable and whatever made them happy I was happy enough to go with.

In our application we explained that we don’t have a credit history in America but we have a good one at home in Australia and that we’re being moved to LA by Mr H’s new company. For whatever it was worth they would back us if necessary. We also said we were pretty keen to stay longer than 12 months as it wouldn’t make sense for us to get settled only to have to move again.

Our application was rejected—apparently someone else had put an application in at the same time and were offering more money.

To me this didn’t make sense for two reasons—one we weren’t told anyone else was interested in the house let alone let looking let alone miraculously putting in an application at precisely the same time as us. Secondly, if there are two people putting an application on a property wouldn’t you go back and create an auction situation and try to get the best possible deal for the house? Exactly. So clearly our lack of credit history meant that we lost out on this house.

That meant it was Plan B and the Beverly Hills house I was keen on. It didn’t have a pool but it was the sort of style we were used to in Australia and a house we wouldn’t be ashamed to have the rich and famous over to visit.

When we were visiting the house we actually got a call from one of the schools saying we were accepted. What a relief, now we just have to find the house and our job here in LA was done for now.

We put an application in for the Beverly Hills house and it was accepted. The owner—a movie producer and composer came to LA from Austria a number of years ago only to find himself in the same position so he was sympathetic to us. We’ll never know whether we’d struggle to find another house but we were so thankful the search was over.

Plus, we later realised that the school was an incredible ten-minute commute away so we couldn’t be luckier.

It was the most stressful week and enough to put us off making the move to LA quite frankly. I actually don’t know why we persevered. Yeah, I actually do, it was the allure of Hollywood and the wonder of what life would have in store for this ordinary but happy Australian family about to move to Hollywood.

Now, two years on, I wish we’d chosen a bigger house and held off to get the pool we so desperately wanted. It’s one thing to get a house close to your needs in Australia but it would have been smarter to get a house different to what you’re used to so you get a different experience.  And, as a growing family we could have grown into that “big American house.”

If only we were a bit more realistic and weren’t looking at the opportunity through rose-coloured glasses.

Did you make your move in a hurry? Did you find finding a house easy? Hard? Did you know where you wanted to live? Did you have anyone to help you? Would love it if you’d share your stories.

xx It Started in LA xx

Updated October, 2016

Getting cultural in LA
My LA story, Posts

Who said we couldn’t get cultural in LA?

One of the reasons I didn’t want to live in America was the lack of cultural opportunities we’d be presented with.  It was such a bonus in Shanghai to learn about and empathise with the Chinese culture.

But who said we couldn’t get cultural in LA?

Alas I was wrong… most of my friends here in 90210 are Jewish so we’re lucky enough to learn so much about their (religious) culture and the holidays and ceremonies involved.

My first cultural moment was when I had my tennis friends for lunch in what was a momentous cultural exchange.  I was exposing them to my culture of Pimms & Lemonade after tennis and they were introducing me to food preparation the Jewish way.

Cheers! Pimms & Lemonade anyone?

Cheers! Pimms & Lemonade anyone?

 

My first question to them: “Do I need to cook with Kosher Salt?” (something I’ve seen a bit of in the supermarket).

Apparently not.  No, apart from not serving them the basics like pork (the key ingredient in many of my signature dishes–bugger it) and bacon I don’t need to worry about Kosher salt.  Apparently it was funny because using Kosher salt doesn’t magically make the dish kosher (if only).  Glad I could provide some entertainment for you, it’s what I do best.

A highlight of the Jewish calendar would have to be the Bar & Bat Mitzvahs.  (It’s Bar Mitvah for the boys and Bat Mitvah for the girls when they turn 13).

I’ve been very honoured to be invited to a few now and so humbled to witness such a momentous event.  Such a lot of work and preparation goes in I wanted to witness the “call to the Torah” myself.

With the number of Jewish people running Hollywood I’m surprised there aren’t more movies–or at least TV episodes–about these amazing events.

And they are a party planner’s dream come true: photo shoots, red carpets, candy stations to rival the Candy Bar at the movies, dancers, DJs, MCs, special guests, photo booths, activities galore–and quite a bit of grog.

Bar Mitzvahs

Amazing table setting at a friend’s Bar Mitzvah at the Beverly Wilshire | It Started in LA | itstartedinla.com

 

And the 90210 Bar/Batmitzvahs are the best!

In case you’re wondering what to give at these momentous events–a cheque!  (Cause they still write cheques here!)  To show your reverence and understanding of their culture multiples of $18 are the way to go.  This is symbolic for the gift of life originating from Hebrew words and letters that make up the word life.  (They usually also give multiples of $18 for birth or a wedding too.)

 

Sukkot

One of my girlfriend’s favourite Jewish holidays is Sukkot.  It’s essentially a holiday to celebrate the harvest where you eat outside to mimic the forty-year period when the children of Israel were wandering in the desert, living in temporary shelters.

There’s plenty of food and a traditional offering is made gathering family and friends together.

It’s now a regular event on our social calendar we look forward to each year.  It may or may not have anything to do with great friends, lots of good wine and fun family times.

Sukkot

Sukkot at my friends is a great night–and a reminder that our food comes from a harvest something that’s pretty easy to forget.

Learn all about it here.

I have a lot of respect for my Jewish friends who keep their traditions alive.  I struggled to do it as a semi-lapsed catholic so hats off.

xx It Started in LA xx

 

PS: I can hear the dissatisfaction at the end of the post with you yelling at the screen asking, “Where’s the recipe for the Pimms & Lemonade it looks so bloody good.”

By popular demand here it is …

Pimm’s Fruit Punch

 

Pimms & Lemonade

A cultural exchange: Pimms & Lemonade goes hand-in-hand with tennis

Grab a jug and pour in a good dose of Pimms to your mixing taste.

Add half lemonade (Sprite) and half Ginger Ale.

Cut up your favourite fruit like oranges, strawberries and cucumber and mint and stir.

Enjoy & please drink responsibly.

 

Behind-the-wheel test
Moving to LA, My LA story, Posts

Getting my Californian Licence—part two (behind-the-wheel)

This entry is part 2 of 2 in the series Getting my Californian Driver's Licence

I hope you haven’t been holding your breath waiting for “Getting my Californian Driving Licence—part 2 (behind-the-wheel)”.

Yes, they call it “behind-the-wheel” here and it’s the practical part of the licence process—the part that has “fail me” written all over it and the part I was putting off the most mainly because of the horror stories I’d heard. You know? Anything that can go wrong will go wrong?

About six months ago I embarked on the getting-my-licence journey thinking it would give my sitcom (actually Blog) a comedy boost. Sadly there is little to no comedic value in this post.  It’s not original and it’s just one of those stupid things in life there’s just no getting around.

One Sunday night a few weeks ago—while it was still school holidays—my husband got out his iPad and announced it was time to get my licence.  Where did that come from?

The overwhelming advice was don’t sit your licence in Hollywood, they’ll fail you.  OK.  It was suggested I go into the “Valley” to Winnetka.  The only available appointment in the foreseeable future was the very next day.

“I can’t do it tomorrow,” I said rather adamantly.

“Why not?”.

“Because,” knowing full well that’s a ridiculous response. “I need to drive around and get to know the area first. And we’ve got dentist appointments in the morning, how am I going to do two things in one day?” Useless … not getting any more convincing.

So, after checking around at alternative appointments and realising I’ve got no excuse, we made the appointment. I can do this.

I rounded up all my paperwork ready for the test. Because I was driving on a Learner’s Permit Mr H had to come with me.

(Only a year ago you could show your Australian licence and they’d give you a temporary licence provided you past the written test. Now you’re given a Learner’s Permit valid for one year).

Because you’re on a Learner’s Permit it technically requires a licenced driver to accompany you.  Given part of their checklist is you must be accompanied by a Licenced Driver, we weren’t about to test the DMV and have me front up alone only to be rejected.

Preparation for behind-the-wheel test

Next we collected up the rest of the paperwork I needed:

  • My Learner’s Permit
  • My Registration Papers (that are supposed to be kept in the car anyway)
  • Proof of insurance (that’s also supposed to be kept in the car)
  • i94 & Passport.

(Side-bar: While I needed my i94 and Passport they didn’t ask for my son’s when he got his licence at 16. It may have something to do with the fact that it’s a brand new licence but not sure at this stage. He passed his test and is now driving so all must be OK).

And look up my hand signals. (That’s right, for some antiquated reason you need to know hand signals for left, right and stop).

OK, check, check, check.

We rocked up to the Winnetka DMV.  You’re asked to park in the carpark, check in and then drive up to the testing area when “instructed to do so”.

Like every other DMV in LA it’s packed. I don’t know why this is. There’s always a queue out the front and there are always hordes of people inside.  And it’s always always always chaotic. This DMV is not unlike the Hollywood DMV I described in Part one of this story.

I had to go inside past the outside queue (and funny looks) and then past another inside queue that was marked for appointments and head over to the far side (not dissimilar to the far queue) where there was a separate queue for driver’s licence appointments.

I’m glad Mr H asked as it wasn’t obvious when we arrived and there are so many people around, you feel like you need to start queuing outside before you make your way in. Without deliberately offending my host country it feels like I’m walking into a government department in the Philippines.

We were early but unfortunately they were checking us in in appointment time order so that wasn’t much use to us. And, they were running late.

We checked the paperwork list on the desk matched the paperwork we’d brought in with us.  All good.  Oh, except the insurance papers.  They were expired.  We’d been automatically renewed but we mustn’t have printed out the renewal and now we’re standing there looking at expired insurance.

Ok, we can log in and show that our insurance was actually current.  But now we’re at the mercy of DMV—and whether the people behind the counters are sticklers for the rules or reasonable.  You never want to be at the mercy of the DMV so who knows how this will play out.

We started playing out the different scenarios.

“Oh, is it expired? I didn’t realise. I can look it up online to prove it’s not.” Possible.

“Would you be able to print our proof of insurance out for us?” Doubtful.

“We’ve just realised the paperwork is out of date but here it is online to prove it’s current.” Yep, always go with the truth.

There was a nice girl at the desk so we’ll take our chances.

Oh wait, the nice girl goes on break. The one that takes over seems a bit grumpy. Great.

We wait some more. I’ve got Mr H there, slightly dodgy paperwork and a car to sit the test in so I’m just at the mercy of the chick behind the counter as to whether she accepts the insurance certificate and then that of the driving tester.

They call our timeslot and as if it’s meant to be the nice girl comes back. “No problems.” she says as she takes my learner’s permit and registration and hands me back my proof of insurance and asks me to sit down and wait for my name to be called.

I’ll spare you the muzak on hold music and the obligatory … 30 minutes later to give the idea of the length of time this is taking …

(Ok I didn’t but I could have).

I’m up! My name is called and Mr H and I go to my car. I’m driving, he’s in the passenger seat. I was asked to put my paperwork on the right dashboard so I did.

It’s taking a bloody long time to drive to what is essentially a drive-through minus the bottleshop or Maccas ordering window. There’s a hold up in front of us. Two lots of people get out of their cars. Oops. As we’re creeping forward a clearly nervous 16-year-old hits the people in front of her, who are just in front of us. They exchange paperwork we chuckle at the irony and wonder if she’s automatically failed or given a lifeline. There’s a security guard there facilitating the exchange but none of the testers so maybe she’s good to go.

(She was good to go but came back some five minutes later failing anyway).

Time to run through my hand signals one more time.

Taking the behind-the-wheel test: we’re on

I’m up. The tester takes my paperwork and Mr H is free to get out of the car. Then she starts asking me questions.

  • Where’s your foot brake? Put your foot on it (and she checks my brake lights)
  • Right indicator (oops I’ve done the windscreen wipers, try again, got it).
  • Left indicator
  • Checks my tyres
  • Asks me to do my handsignals and say what they are.

Next she hops in the car and asks some more things saying point don’t touch.

  • Emergency or foot brake (parking brake)
  • Horn
  • Emergency flasher
  • Headlights
  • Defroster (rear & front demist)
  • Headlights.

We’re off. I had nightmares for two years about exiting the driveway and turning too close and running over the gutter but all good. I turned right into a street, stopped at a traffic light and turned right again. She asked me to pull over then reverse. Then she asked me to pull out again. The silence in the car is killing me. I hate awkward silence. I turned left into a street and left into another one. I was near the DMV I could feel it in my bones I was home and hosed.

Keep going straight. What??? Aren’t I done? Left. Right. Left. Left. We were getting further away. Was she willing me to make more mistakes? This is becoming a competition now. I wasn’t going to fail after all this. I passed mini test after mini test she was giving me. I had to turn left into a street but the cars were banked up past the turning lane left so I dutifully waited behind the cars. (You know when you’ve got your licence you just cross the wrong side of the road so you can join the turning lane so you catch the lights?) Two cars overtook me and I laughed awkwardly. She was impressed I could tell. I could sense we were heading back.

“Left,” she said. There was a pedestrian crossing yet I was free to go. I had heard that the pedestrian had to fully cross the road before you could go. What do I do? Do I go? Wait? I’m going to fail on my way back to the DMV. I went but turned wide when the pedestrian was crossing on the other side of the traffic. I’ve failed. Keep calm she would’ve asked you to pull over by now.

I pulled into the DMV. As far as I could see I was perfect: I stopped ahead of the lanes, I used my mirrors all the time (as in checked them remembering when I was 18 and sat my test in Melbourne and passed on the first go) and I didn’t speed.  That damn pedestrian.

“You can have 15 errors,” she started. Great. No way, I couldn’t have failed.

“You made 11 errors.” I passed. Yay me. Wait, what 11 errors?

“You must take care not to turn too wide,” she said. Oh yeah, I’m lucky I made the right call there I’ll take that one.  “Awkward giggle, oh yes I know where I did that,” I said out loud.

“You must always look both ways.” But I did, I did. I looked in my mirrors I looked everywhere.

I nodded as if to agree. Who cares? I passed.

“Go inside, give them this and you can collect your licence.” No congratulations? No well done?

“Ok. Thanks.”

I went to the desk and said to the girl (a different girl at a different desk). “I passed. Just.”

“Oh,” she said looking at my paperwork.  Then, looking at the girl next to her she said, “She got you-know-who guess how many errors she made. She passed.”

“14,” says the girl next to her.

“11,” she laughs back at her.

“Oh you’re good girl,” said the girl looking up at me then and the girl next to her and continues serving the person at her desk.

“She’s tough that one.  Let’s put it like this.  I’ll get in the car with you any time.”

Only then did I breathe a sigh of relief.

I’m a licenced Californian driver. I had to sit a written test then (endure) a behind-the-wheel test and I live to tell the tale. Not only that I passed.  With the toughest tester in Winnetka.

Could you pass a behind-the-wheel test if you had to resit it today? How did you go? I’m just glad this little obstacle is done and dusted.

xx It Started in LA xx

PS: For more information on applying for your California Driver’s Licence head here.

Differences between America & Australia, My LA story, Posts

Differences between LA & Sydney: Drinking at lunch

As I continue my series on the differences between LA & Sydney, I’m noticing so many, many things.  Who said the transition to California would be smooth? Well, it’s not that it isn’t smooth so much as we are different.  Take drinking at lunchtime as a prime example.

I love going out to lunch—there’s something totally decadent about having a long lunch where you enjoy good conversation, great food and, of course, a bottle or so of wine.

I remember when we moved to Shanghai it took me a while to find drinking partners at lunchtime. It was so foreign to me that you would go out for a beautiful meal (even if it is through the day) and not have a glass of wine—or three—to accompany that meal. Water simply won’t cut it will it?  And I see now that was probably the American influence in our Expat society.

I go out regularly with my girlfriends in Australia and love it. We’ve often been known to seek alternative methods of after-school pick-up for the kids. And, with the wonders of time (the kids getting older) and public transport in Australia it gets easier for the kids to walk home from the bus stop.

Here in LA not so much!

I don’t think “doing lunch” is a thing here amongst my fellow Beverly Hills Housewives. Sure, when someone has a birthday we’ll go out but it doesn’t seem to be a regular thing (or maybe I don’t have enough friends). And then, once you get them out it’s water or an Arnold Palmer (Ice Tea & Lemonade).

The other week I had a lovely lunch with my fellow PA mothers and not a drop of wine in sight.

I do have to love my supportive girlfriends though. The ones who know that a lunch with me means we’re going to have a glass of wine. That’s supportive.

I’ll keep looking for fellow lunchers though—where lunch turns into afternoon drinks, which turns into dinner.

xx It Started in LA xx

PS: If you’re in LA and looking for places to eat, check out my Pinterest board I keep updated with tips from a local. There’s no excuse not to eat well when you’re visiting–stay away from those chains!

My take on the 2015 Emmys Telecast
Celebrity, Movies and TV, My LA story, Posts

My round up of the Emmys 2015 telecast

This entry is part 2 of 3 in the series Emmys 2015

I love the Emmys and I love TV. So it’s only fitting that I share my round up of the Emmys 2015 telecast. Last year I was lucky enough to go to the Creative Arts Emmys. As is the premise of my Blog, never in my wildest dreams as a very happy normal chick living the Sydney life expect to be strutting the Red Carpet amongst the cast of Orange is the New Black, Jon Voight and incredible talent that makes the TV industry go around. It’s crazy.

This year’s Emmys ceremony was great, I thoroughly enjoyed them and I love that it’s broken down over two separate ceremonies. It makes the main event go much quicker.

While I enjoyed most of Andy Sandberg as this year’s host can I am still mourning the loss of Tina Fey and Amy Poehler. It will take a few more years til we get to their standard—if we do at all. They’re some pretty talented and funny women.

Andy opened strongly but it was a bit stop/start. His opening monologue was fine but not great.

It took a while to hit cruising speed but he definitely got more comfortable and relaxed as time went on, which is good.

To me, cruising speed was hit when he did his little “Girls” love scene impersonation—which is pretty funny even if you didn’t know the scene in question.

ICYMI here it is.

Important role of TV

 

The Oscars last year got slammed for “snubbing people of colour” but the Emmys did the opposite. I’m not sure it’s that the Emmys addressed or acknowledged people of colour but had the opportunity to award talent where it was due.

No one put it better than Viola Davis herself:

“The only thing that separates women of colour from anyone else is opportunity. You cannot win an Emmy (or an Oscar) for roles that are simply not there.”

There have been many people commenting on social media saying, You won, you’re good, you deserve it but enough about the colour factor. Sorry, you can’t say that! Clearly to say what she said, to speak as openly and emotionally as she did, Viola Davis has been on a ride. Otherwise it wouldn’t be so from-the-heart as it was.

I also understand why they say “it shouldn’t be about colour”. BUT. America is very into defining people—men, women, black, Asian, native American, gay, straight, transgender and talking about Diversity. By labelling people America is its own worst enemy. It struck me almost as soon as I got here and I penned (so to speak) this post.

(And I’m not saying Australia is not guilty, we’ve had our own racist issues, which also embarrass me, but it comes from a different angle).

Maybe it’s easy for me to say but at the end of the day—when you look really closely—I’m not white middle America, I just act like I am. “White” that is. Clearly I’m not American (although I do see myself as evolving into an Ausmerican).

I act like I am white because I don’t see myself any differently. And I think that’s largely because I grew up in Australia, not America. I’m probably not really making a lot of sense but here’s the bottom line:

Shonda Rhimes, is a creative genius. Beyond genius. She’s like the Steven Bochco of the 2000s (am I showing my age?). When I first saw Grey’s Anatomy in Australia, I knew it was created by Shonda Rhimes but I had no idea she was black. It didn’t matter, why should it? When I first saw the shorts (trailer) for How To Get Away with Murder I saw a powerful performance by Viola Davis but I didn’t take special notice of the fact that she was black, she was just bloody amazing.

That should be the point. And (I think) that was Viola Davis’s point.

TV should be at the cutting edge of setting change. TV Shows have a shorter incubation period, cost less to make, and there is a large talent pool to choose from. And that’s why we love it so much and that’s why it’s so much edgier than movie-making at the moment.

And, the fact that every single drama nominated could clearly be the winner exemplifies that point.  And that every single comedy nominated could clearly be the winner. No one drama or comedy would have won that category and you would have said, “I don’t think they deserved it”.

I was like, “oh yeah, Game of Thrones deserves it.” Then I remember House of Cards and what an amazing season it was.  Downton Abbey, Homeland, OISTNB … Yep, they’re all over-the-top phenomenally good.

Donald Trump

On a lighter note it was good to see the Trump jokes out in force last night. Julia Louis-Dreyfus in her acceptance speech:

“What a great honour it must be for you to honour me tonight.

“Oh God, no! Donald Trump said that.”

On that note, shall we take a moment to say the women, to me, are rocking it as the stars of the show. The cast of Orange is the New Black, Amy Schumer, Amy Poehler, JLD, Allison Janney, all the American Horror Story stars and guest stars. Good for them I say—now to get them all being paid the same as the blokes in the room ;-).

And, I wonder if we can now get Kanye to throw himself at Amy Schumer when he sees her on the Red Carpet.

 

All hail Amy Schumer.

For a full list of nominees and winners click here.

 

xx It Started in LA xx

 

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