I Scream Out Windows: a Los Angeles Perspective

“Don’t tell anyone how weird I am!” is the phrase I screamed out of my pimp ass ride – a 2008 Toyota Sienna Minivan – while cruising down the streets of Los Angeles last weekend.


My manager and amateur badass chauffer-slash-tour guide – was a trouper and put up with me during the trek into Los Angeles to show me the sights. I was there for business but calling it that seems so wrong considering how much goddamn fun I had. So let’s call it a “business-pleasure extravaganza” for the sheer sake of naming things creepily.

It was my first time in LA and my manager, being a good sport, offered to drive me into Beverly Hills to see Rodeo Drive and the surrounding area. I saw. I gushed. I marveled who-in-the-hell-lives-here? at the gaudy and gorgeous houses and thanked my lucky stars I didn’t have a mortgage payment anywhere close to these people.

The sights of LA made me giddy. I snapped what I could, nearly getting my arm taken off by another car as I stuck it out the window to blindly shoot. I’ll take that commitment to the bit, folks.

National Geographic just called dibs.

Aaaaand complex commenced

Am I hungry or aroused? Hungry or aroused…

Then one of us had the sparkling brilliant idea to find the Hollywood Sign. “It’s just up the road,” were the fateful words. After arguing with Siri for nearly ten minutes, getting directed to a place called Hollywood Sign COMPANY (Bad, Siri, bad!), and nearly mowing down two kids on bikes, we finally caught a glimpse of the white blocked letters.

Let’s just say we worked that minivan. Hard. Three wrong turns and blind corners later we stumbled upon it high on a hill, with houses and a neighborhood reminiscent of the movie Laurel Canyon. I kept expecting Christian Bale to come bounding out of the Hollywood Hills to throw himself into my arms but sadly he likes screaming at people instead of making out with me.

I got my million dollar shot and then we were outta there.

Boom, bitches

And so we were finished. Done with the sightseeing. Done with the fun. Imagine my horror and shock to realize that driving into LA and out of LA took nearly four hours. My panic face set in.

Yeah. Kinda like this.

From there our destination was Santa Monica, where a smug hotel clerk handed me a room key card inquiring “Only one key?”

Let’s just say my hotel room key provided hours of entertainment.


The rest of the trip went smoothly. I rubbed elbows with some hippie folk, crashed Santa Monica Pier and had the best Butter Lettuce salad from the Hungry Cat. Seriously. It was orgasmic. Doves cried.

Oh wait. Did I say “rest of the trip went smoothly”? Strike that from the record.  Let me backtrack for one minute. The trip went well until I climbed into a cab that was waiting to take me to the airport. Let me break this down for you. Muslim cab driver (okay, fine), on a time crunch (20 minutes), waxing philosophic about God (ohsweetbabyj).

Yeah. You know my panic face? I’m making that now.

For 15 minutes I sat, white-knuckled and gripping the oh-shit handle as Cabbie weaved and darted through traffic because by god he had to get me to the LA airport in under 20 minutes to go back to Santa Monica to pick up a $120 fare. Apparently I was only worth $35. This did not boost my self esteem.

Then the religion talk kicked on.

Again…the face.

His monologue revolved around a man who borrowed his cab once only to never returned it and how vengeance would be exacted one day.  This moral was confusingly followed by him telling me that “god” is not found anywhere except your heart. At this I did give him a head nod and mused agreement because who am I to be an asshole, not to mention the fact that I pretty much believe that statement.

When he dropped me off two thoughts went through my mind:  As a writer, I was thankful for this experience…as a human being, nothing felt better than my feet touching sweet, sweet concrete.

So this ended my journey to the West Coast. A cab ride founded on faith and a little bit of fear. I will never live in Los Angeles. I like my easy life in Phoenix.  But one thing is for certain…

I want to put the ocean in my pocket. Every single day.

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  • Reply


    April 29, 2012 at 8:54 pm

    Would so love to take a roadtrip with you!!! LOVED your photos! Thank you for making my day, Jules!!

  • Reply

    Harley May

    April 29, 2012 at 10:52 pm

    This looks maaarvelous. And the ocean would want to live in your pocket, Jules.

    Your pocket is one suh-weet ride.

    • Reply


      May 1, 2012 at 2:06 am

      You’re such a doll, HM. And I promise you. My pocket is fantastic.

  • Reply

    Michael Gillan Maxwell

    April 29, 2012 at 11:29 pm

    LA is a trip isn’t it? No place like it, and as the saying goes ~ “Nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t wanna live there.” I have friends that are total lifers there and who think I am an absolute mad man for living where I do. What can I say? Right about the mad man part, but this is God’s Country dammit! Last time I was there, I took my travel companions (professional colleagues) on a mind bending tour that started in Venice Beach (where even the drug dogs are stoned) followed by Rodeo Drive, which provided a jolting culture clash, a drive thru hills and canyons ogling how the “other half” lives and ended up at a place called Tequila Jacks, where they serve 70 kinds of tequila. Seriously. Let’s just say that one of us left wearing a sombrero that night. Great post Jules. Cracked me up!

    • Reply


      May 1, 2012 at 2:07 am

      YES. I would never, ever want to live there. It’s good to visit. And judging from your experience a great place to wear a sombrero. I may have to try that next time. Thanks for reading!

  • Reply

    Tammie Yeager

    May 1, 2012 at 1:25 am

    I have not experienced that kind of fun through someone else’s eyes and laughed so hard forever. Keep them comming as I finally got it! Your a very gifted woman and I felt as if I were there with you. Thank you for the ride.

    • Reply


      May 1, 2012 at 2:08 am

      Thanks Tammie! Glad you’re finally on this thing and glad to make you laugh. You can come along with me any time!

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