LA Adventures: Part One

I was already awake when my alarm went off at 3:50 am. I’ve never overslept the day of a flight, but I was up later than I expected due to Mr. W and I laughing ourselves to sleep over God knows what… probably something the dog did.

It was cold, windy and dark as I said my goodbyes and drove to the airport. It was the perfect sendoff to the warm California sunshine. After checking in and grabbing a giant coffee, I was on my way. Even with a layover in Portland, the flights went very quickly and smoothly. Before I knew it, I was staring out my window at the Pacific Ocean, beautiful and blue-green and sparkling in the sunlight. The reality that I really was about to meet my favorite soap stars hit me with full force and I grinned like an idiot as I made my way through LAX.

I was in a shuttle van to the hotel when my old friend DJ called me. DJ is an old friend of mine and Mr. W’s from Spokane who now lives in Sacramento. I hadn’t seen him in years and missed him like crazy.

“What the hell are you doing in LA?” he asked.

“It’s for a Days of our Lives thing,” I said sheepishly before asking him if I could call him back so I wouldn’t be that asshole on the phone in a small space.

When I hung up, the other four ladies in the van were grinning. “We’re here for the Day of Days too!” one of them said, and for the rest of the trip, it was ON. We discussed our favorite plot lines, actors, you name it. For the first time in years, I began to feel better about being a fan of the show. I had always watched in secret, allowing my friends who did find out to tease me. But after that car ride, I knew I wasn’t alone.

Meanwhile, DJ and I were texting and he agreed to come visit me on my last day in LA even though it was a ridiculously long drive. Normally I’m a total planner when it comes to trips, but this time I had allowed a lot of flexibility in my schedule because I had a gut feeling something would happen. I guess I was right.

When we arrived at the Sheraton, I checked in, went up to my room, opened my windows, saw the palm trees and swimming pool, and smiled. What a difference of scenery from the cold Inland Northwest. I had one goal that day: shopping. After changing out of my winter clothes that were no longer necessary, I asked the concierge to help me get a Taxi.

“Don’t shop too much, Miss,” he teased. Then I was off to Beverly Hills, still grinning like an idiot.

Beverly Center was my destination. I arrived and proceeded to go into a four hour shopping coma. It was paradise: Bloomingdales, MAC, Forever 21, H&M, Guess, etc. It was at Beverly Center that I discovered something awesome. In fashion-conscious LA, when something goes “out of season” it normally goes on sale for a fraction of its normal cost. I was searching for the perfect outfit for the following day. I found it at Bloomingdales: a blue BGBC dress, originally priced well over $200, marked down to $60.

“It will never fit,” I said to the gorgeous gay man, Spencer, who was helping me. “My luck is never this good.” But this time, it was. Minutes later, Spencer and I chatted about LA while he wrapped up my new dress.

“You see everything here, girl,” he said. “You could’ve walked in here with a pony and I wouldn’t have thought twice about it.” Spencer gave me his card in case I needed further assistance (or to “grab a martini”) and I was off to my next adventure…and gay man… at the MAC store. Gay men, I beg of you, come to North Idaho. Despite being a Red state, it’s more accepting than you might think, and I need you in my life. I really do.

After sampling the infamous Pinkberry, which was just as delicious as I imagined, I cabbed it back to the hotel, talking to my sweet Russian driver the whole way. It was then that I realized everyone in LA had been incredibly nice to me so far. I’m sure it has its assholes, but if you’re nice to people, they’ll be nice to you.

When I emerged from the Taxi with bag after bag of shopping goodness, the concierge laughed at me for ignoring his warning and nicely helped me through the door. The couple who runs www.DaysTalk.com had organized a meet and greet in the hotel lobby so as soon as I dropped off my shopping hauls, I headed down. I found them almost instantly, surrounded by several women and a husband who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. Soon, we were joined by my friends from the shuttle and again, it was on. The conversation flowed, my favorite line being, “Now who did he rape again?” It was incredibly therapeutic to meet fans of the show who are just as crazy- if not crazier- than I am. I even met some girls who live close to my hometown in Washington.

After awhile, I realized I still had to prepare my questions for the actors. I headed up to my room, ordered room service, and got to work. Again, it hit me that I was actually getting the opportunity to ask my favorite actors the questions I had always wanted to ask and I had to take a melatonin with a wine chaser to calm myself down. Of course, I didn’t think of any REALLY good questions until I was on the plane home, but that’s the way it always works. Eventually I was satisfied with what I had and, after a quick call to Mr. W and setting every alarm known to man, I attempted to sleep.