LA or Bust: Part One

Whenever I want to feel like fall, I eat butternut squash soup. I just got some from this fantastic little soup shop off of 42nd street and it reminds me of what fall would taste like, if fall had a taste. It’s delicious. And it makes me want to carve a pumpkin.

I woke up this morning and kind of felt like someone had run over me with a truck. I didn’t sleep at all on Sunday night because of the after-party and I was in these amazingly masochistic heels that had my feet screaming bloody murder before 1am. But after a while the pangs turned to dull aches, which weren’t so bad. The things we do for beauty.

So, I guess I should just get right down to business: my weekend. Here is a blow-by-blow account and I will upload photos as soon as possible. Some of this stuff you have to see to believe.

On Saturday morning I was picked up by my car service and driven to JFK. When I got there I was instructed to hold a sign that read: TV GUIDE, EMMY RED CARPET WEEKEND at the front doors. This sign was supposed to let clients know, should they miss my huge TV Guide staff badge, that I was someone who could direct them to our private check in. I had some stares. And some puzzled questions from airport personnel. “What’s a red carpet weekend?” was a popular inquiry. Are you serious? I would think. And then politely explain to them what everyone who has had two seconds of American pop-culture exposure has known since…forever.

After all our clients were through, we went through security ourselves. This went surprisingly smoothly. I was just waiting for an airport wide lockdown (that’s what happened the last time I flew through JFK), but alas and alack, we were ushered through with ease. We were then given $60 coupons to buy lunch and snacks for the bus to the hotel in LA. So I got lunch with a friend of mine, Minal. We ordered and ate. It was 11:26 and our flight was at 12. We had some time so I went to buy some magazines and sushi for the plane (I hate airplane snacks. Yuck.) As I am paying for the sushi, I hear: “Last call, flight 217 to Long Beach.” You have got to be kidding me? I think. Shit. I continue to curse in my head as I run through the terminal. I need gate 24. Guess where gate 24 is? Not in this terminal. You have to take a shuttle all the way across to another terminal. And then run all the way across that one to get there. So I ran. I ran and I shook. But I made it…with two minutes to spare.

Safe in the plane I calm down and enjoy my sushi and Vogue. And I watch the Rachel Zoe project marathon on Bravo.

Five and a half hours later we touch down in Long Beach. It is the smallest airport I have ever seen. There are three check-in counters and virtually no walls: it’s practically a tent with airplanes around it. We all deplane, grab our bags, and load into the shuttles. An hour later we’re in LA.

Okay, so LA is pretty much amazing. I would LOVE to live there some day. The weather was impeccable, the views were spectacular, and the people were so much fun to watch. I felt like I was in an alternate universe, like MTV’s The Hills. I’m sure Lauren Conrad was trying to text me that she wanted to meet up at the Kress later and chat about Brody being a jerk…again. I hate my phone—it never works.

We arrived at the hotel (the same one they filmed Pretty Woman in) and I checked in to my room. Or should I say, my private suite. It was HUGE. I had a balcony, a Jacuzzi tub, a 40-inch flat screen, and two giant beds stuffed to the brim with feathers. It was heaven. And just break I needed from the reality of my nasty apartment in New York.

Then we went to dinner. I ordered a California Chardonnay and a lentil and truffle stuffed ravioli. I still maintain, apart from my mother’s lasagna, it was the most delicious Italian meal I have ever eaten. And the Chardonnay was superb. After walking back to the hotel, my co-workers wanted ice cream, so we all went up to the TV Guide hospitality suite and got some. Also…so good. After the wine, the simple carbs, and the sugar, I was done. I kept almost falling asleep and snapping back up—finally they made me go to bed. I felt like a kid, but I didn’t care at that point. I was so tired. I took a bath and went to bed right after asking for a 10am wake up call. My first responsibility wasn’t until 11:30.

The next morning I am wide-awake—at 7:30am (10:30am EST). It was so weird to be up that early without having to force myself to roll out of bed. But I didn’t have to roll out of bed for a while—so I laid there for an hour, snuggling in the sheets. An hour of so later I took another bath. Then I got in the terry cloth rob the hotel had hanging in the bathroom and got back into bed. It was delicious.

All I had to do that day was be around the hospitality suite for an hour and help pass out departure notices. My cousin Perry came to visit me and took me out to lunch—then we went for a walk on Rodeo Dive (which wasn’t all that exciting next to 5th Ave). I just drank in the day. Our hospitality suite was in the top floor penthouse and had access to the roof of the hotel. The view was breathtaking. Perry and I grabbed a few beers and walked up there for an hour of so. The clients weren’t there (they had planned activities like helicopter tours, etc.) so there wasn’t anyone up there to bother. You could also see the Hollywood sign in the hill that everyone always shows in the movies. That was a highlight for me.

As the party got closer and closer I started getting a little nervous. I wasn’t sure what to expect. Before the party, we had a viewing party with the Emmys being streamed live and crazy amounts of food. I’m still not sure who won because I paid no attention…as you will see, this bit me in the butt later on.

Actually, I’ll have to finish this tomorrow! My lunch break is over…stay tuned!