My Own Private Blade Runner
Posted by Sunday on Jul 7, 2008 at 7:44 pm in Apocalypse, Daily SpaceI am an enigma.
On one hand, I despise the presence of people, loathe the crush of more than a handful of human beings in visible proximity to myself. I long for silence.
On the other hand I am terrified of spiders and need at least one other person on call to crush them for me at a moment’s notice. I need sushi, prepared by aloof, masterful chefs who don’t roll their eyes or say “Que?” when you say omakase onegaishimasu. I need Super Target.
Back to the first hand, I need a cave, a nest, a quiet abode both spacious and well-lit during the day and quiet, dark and well-protected at night. Surrounded by trees. And puppies.
And then to the second hand again - I need to not feel like I’m an extra in a hillbilly slasher flick when I go out for a hamburger. To not have someone gape and say “Why’d ya wanna go and move away from Seattle for?” when I tell them where I’m from (dear ignorant, blissful hillbillies: your rents here are one third what a person might hope to pay in other parts of the country, so try to enjoy it).
But mostly, both hands won with the following: I am just not getting enough apocalypse adrenaline in my life. Also, we just got evicted from our apartment so a “young professional” couple can move into a brand new condo in a few months.
To the Los Angeles pod, navigator - set a course!
No matter which hand you’re talking about everything listed here kinda sounds like a description of LA: Baja sushi, mega shopping, hillbilly slasher extras and the ultimate apocalyptic rush. Don’t know about those well-lit puppies frolicking safely under the trees.
No matter, your space adventure ought to be interesting to say the least.
But really, most importantly… I have somewhere to crash when Comicon rolls around.
I’m sure you’re going to be delighted to know that Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban named their daughter Sunday. You’s famous!
And wait…what? You’re moving to L.A.??
That’s a heckuva lead up to the pay off part of the story. Sorry you’re being forced out.
Saw a frelling huge space vessel in a fi-sci movie once, as it lumbered by on-screen, name on the side in kilometer-sized lettering, was the ‘Los Angeles’. So just match speed and trajectory of GalacticMu alongside, EVA over to a visitor airlock and move in for a while. (FYI: Don’t forget, The Bradbury is a for-real building in L.A. I’ve had the extreme pleasure of touring it with a class I had. It is amazing).
Some of the best sushi this side of Kyoto! Spiders don’t live in L.A. … no room! Extras are a well-payed class of people in Hollyweird. Hal will be in mondo-advertiso land, prolly second only to New Yawk City (get a rope!).
So space hobos, just boldly go where 40 million other men and women have gone before …
Leesa: Yes, and yes. Of course. And I know that the phrase “saving money” causes an involuntary dry heave, but Comicon and the Grand Slam are already penciled into our Nerd Itinerary 2009.
Zombie: Oh, believe me, I know it. I shouted outloud and upset Mike when I saw that she’d named her daughter Sunday. For the rest of my life I get to say, “Yes, like Nicole Kidman’s daughter!”
Xadrian: Well, there’s a reason I don’t use Twitter a lot more than I do.
quagmire: I know that so many people move to LA/Hollywood for the American Dream, and I suspect we’re going to have a hard time convincing folks that we don’t actually want any part of it. We just want reliable employment, access to surf (him), and free avocados (me).
Overheard in LA:
“I’ve…seen things you people wouldn’t believe.”
“What, like the sky or something?”
Overheard in Olympia:
“I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe.”
“What, like there’s a life outside this LOTT backwater town?”