Los Angeles is hilarious in the rain.

The local news will run teasers all day.  ”What’s with all this rain, and WHEN will it finally END?  Details at 11!”

(To mock evenly, Seattle is the same way about snow.)

People change their plans.  ”I know we were supposed to do lunch today, but I don’t know… with all this RAIN….”

You can go to the grocery story during peak hours but there are no lines.

It’s even funnier if the rain happens a second day: “Uhhgh, seriously… Rain AGAIN?!”

I love it.  When in rains in L.A., not only can you move about freely, but  the city finally smells nice.  Here’s hoping this unbelievable, ungodly deluge of a sprinkle sticks around for a few days.

What is the worst things about living in L.A.?”

“Worst thing is that people in Los Angeles relate to each other based in what they can get from each other.”
          — SillyPlatipus, from sillyplatypus.com 

“The worst: Is there even a close second? The traffic.”
          –Alexandra Sokoloff, from screenwritingtricks.com

“The worst thing about living Los Angeles is being forced to listen to everyone complain about Los Angeles.”
          –Meghan Brown, from LikeAGiraffe

What is the best thing about living in L.A.?”

“The best part about Los Angeles is that even if you leave it for a while, it’s just the way you left it when you find your way back.”
          –Jenni Powell Producer Celebrate the Web (http://www.celebratetheweb.com)

“The best thing about living in Los Angeles is all the restaurants!!!”
          –Lynn Chen, actress/food blogger at theactorsdiet.com

Best thing is it is in California, where any crazy idea can become a job.
          — SillyPlatypus, from sillyplatypus.com  

“The ocean, Venice beach, the desert, the Santa Anas, the museums.”
          –Alexandra Sokoloff, from screenwritingtricks.com

“The best part about living in LA is going out in a t-shirt on a sunny February day.”
          –David August, from davidaugust.com

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So, what do YOU think is the best and worst aspect of L.A. life?

Yesterday I posted about whether it makes sense to move to L.A.  Ready to pack your bags?  Keep in mind it’s easy to have the wrong preconception of what life in L.A. is like, given that every movie you’ve ever seen set here announces its location with the same three establishing shots: the Hollywood sign, a girl in a bikini, and a palm tree.

So, for those almost ready to make the leap, here’s the practical perspective from someone who has now lived here five years, one day.

#10.  Really, really, really investigate that potential apartment.  I’m not making this up: a potential roommate asked me to pretend to be in a relationship with her so that she could keep her rent-controlled apartment.  As I drove across the Washington-Oregon border, she revealed that I might have to pretend to be married to her.  As I crossed the Grapevine, she remembered to mention that I would have to ACTUALLY marry her.  Fortunately, she found another husband before I could sign a lease, so the temptation was removed.  (Hey, you just don’t find a Santa Monica two-bedroom at that price.)  Then I spoke to a kind elderly woman on the phone about renting her back room, but once I got there she revealed that the house was for her AND her toothless, chain smoking partner… oh, AND six cats, 4 yappy chihuahaus, and a trio of cockatiels.  So, yeah.  Do the legowork on picking out a place.   People live with roommates here, more than other places.  Meet them.  Come back to the apartment at night to make sure you feel safe.  Test out what the commute would be like from your workplace.  The traffic is a huge part of what makes here suck, so minimize yours, for your mental health.  And if an add says “must have a sense of humor,” double-check whether that’s code for willingness to legally wed.

#9.  You have no friends.  And you never will.  Staying in touch requires effort.  In Los Angeles, staying in touch requires effort squared.  Hollywood-types carry to-do lists they couldn’t complete given a time-stopping watch and a personal assistant.  You will sincerely like people, and you will sincerely promise to stay in touch, not like all those OTHER people in this city who only SAY they’ll stay in touch.  And then you won’t.  If you live on opposite sides of town, forget it.  The upshot is that Los Angelenos don’t have friends, they have acquaintances.  I think that’s why they form such ridiculously co-dependent relationships with their dogs.

#8.  New York it ain’t.  The city that never sleeps?  That’s on the other coast.  L.A. goes to bed pretty early.  Most establishments close by 10 p.m.  Especially if you live on the West Side, finding a location for late night writing can be tough.  I found an electrical outlet at an IHOP.  (And I’m not telling you where it is.)  Meanwhile, know that CVS sells paper and toner 24 hours.

#7.  Peak hours are for suckers.  Simple errands take ridiculous amounts of time, given the intensity of L.A.  Beat the crowds by getting up early, or waiting until the store is almost closed.  It’ll help with your commute, too.  Within two hours either direction of rush hour, congestion will own you.  But at 10 p.m., L.A. freeways are downright usable.  Going across down takes me 20 minutes on a Sunday evening, and 1.5 hours on Monday.

#6.  Grocery stores come in tiers.  A can of peas could easily cost you anywhere from 59¢ to $4.59 depending on where you shop.  The “regular” stores—Albertson’s, Ralph’s, and Von’s/Pavillions—vary greatly in customer care and grocery price based on the neighborhood.  Meanwhile, Whole Foods or Gelson’s will happily sell you baby-vine, organic, imported Bolivian peas with no aspertame added,  because 90% of what anyone in L.A. does is about status.  Me?  I’ve learned that 99-cent stores are decent places to supplement your grocery shopping with cheaper options.  Meanwhile, the Super King on San Fernando Boulevard, along with being the most racially diverse establishment on the planet, and one of the most crowded, has amazing prices on produce.  Please don’t shop there.  You’ll only wind up taking my parking space.

#5.  Some neighborhoods are more equal than others.  You will affiliate yourself with the region of L.A. in which you reside.  Every other city I’ve ever experienced has a main downtown where most of the business happens, surrounded by neighborhoods that grow smaller as they radiate outwards.  In L.A., you could go years and never need to go downtown.  There are numerous mini downtown-like clusters splayed across this far-flung city and surroundings.  Identify your personal priorities and goals, and do research, because the part of town you decide to live in matters.  (…if for no other reason than, as mentioned in #9, you won’t hang out with friends in the other sections of town.)  A lot of the young and hip migrate to Silver Lake, Echo Park, or Los Feliz.  These neighborhoods offer creative energy, affordability, and convenience to Hollywood and downtown.  Then again, if you work in the Valley (Burbank, North Hollywood, Sherman Oaks, et. Al) , you might as well live there, so you don’t have to take the nasty, congested roads through the hills each day.  But Santa Monica is a big pocket of entertainment employment, so maybe the west side is the way to go.  Downtown Culver City is up-and-coming.  West Hollywood and West L.A. are fun.  For me, temperature was a factor; on a given day, the beaches will be 80 degrees, inland will be 90s, and the Valley in the 100s.

#4.  Make friends.  I know, in #9 I said you won’t have friends.  But making friends is the most important reason to move here.  (I never said La-La Land was free of contradiction…)  Find professional groups that help you meet people.  Show up to industry panels, lectures, Q&As, etc., and shake hands with the person sitting next to you in the audience.  When someone is genuinely cool, make the effort to stay in touch.  It’s hard.  But it’s essential.  In a business where it’s not about who you are, but about who you know… you have to know people.

corollary: Don’t expect to meet someone who will give you your “big break.”  There’s no good reason for the super-successful to reach a hand down and pull you up.  Instead, rise with your peers, and offer as many favors as you ask for.

#3.  However much money you brought, it’s not enough.  Los Angeles finds ways to claim your money.  Besides a high cost of living to begin with, there are constant opportunities to improve your career, many of them justified, few of them free.  Meanwhile, creating up-to-date work samples is a full-time job.  Networking and promoting yourself is another full-time job.  And, on top of that, you probably need an actual full-time job.  Having funds saved up so you can concentrate on those first two full-time jobs is useful.  Oh, and by the way, you WILL get parking tickets.  You’ll need a lawyer to understand the street signs.  Budget for failure.

#2.  Head: clouds.  Feet: ground.  You will meet delightful, silver-tongued souls who will tell you wonderful stories about how they can help you.  Believe it when you see it.  Don’t give them any money.

#1.  Don’t give yourself an expiration date.  Succeeding in the entertainment industry is a lot like building a Twitter or YouTube following: yes, some people get lucky and score big with one viral hit.  But they rarely have staying power.  For most of us, it’s a slow, years-long slog built a piece at a time through genuine relationships.  If you show up bags-in-hand with a long term plan of “givingL.A. a year” to see if you can “make it,” believe me when I say you might as well buy a round trip ticket.  An entertainment career is, for 99.999% of those involved, a long-term game.  Overnight success often takes years.  Don’t move toL.A. unless you mean it.

Today is my five-year Los Angiversary.  To mark the occasion, I thought I’d help any aspiring entertainment artists out there struggling with the perennial question: Should you move to Los Angeles?

The simple answer (admit it, you already know…) is yes.

But let’s start with why not.  Because it’s hard, and ugly, and gross, that’s why.  It’s a town of selfish people.  They will tell you a string of pretty promises, and then never even let you know when those plans collapse.  If you don’t have the NEED to work in the entertainment industry in your blood–and if you do, you know what I’m talking about–do yourself a favor.  There are many better ways to make a living, and many nicer places to live.  Lots of cities have this much sunshine. Just want the nice weather?  Consider San Diego.

But, if you are cursed with an inability to be happy doing anything else, the benefits will simply outweigh whatever’s keeping you away.

Could you succeed in entertainment from somewhere else? Probably. (Could you change a tire without a jack? Sure. But it’s a lot harder.)

It depends in part on exactly what you want to do. If your career aspiration is YouTube celebrity, you probably have the tools for success available to you in non-L.A.  Perhaps digital technology will decentralize entertainment eventually.  And if you want to write screenplays, a great script gets read no matter where it comes from (However, I recommend keeping your address close to the chest. Consider a virtual address service in L.A.  I wasn’t able to find work down here until I set up a 310 number for myself.)  Meanwhile, if your truest aspiration is to write television, there is no other place where you can do it.  Unless you live in New York (and, most likely, even if you do…) the aspiring TV writer should move here.

However, while your path may not REQUIRE relocation, there’s huge benefit in surrounding yourself with the like-minded. Collaboration. Resources. People who “get” you.

The industry is here.  It’s not where you are.  Non-Angelinos consule themselves: “Actually, there’s a decent amount of film production here, and last year they shot that one movie up the street…”   Wrong. It’s not the same.  In L.A., half the people you meet are in entertainment.  (And the other half are fed up by being surrounded by people in entertainment.)  Where you live, you might be able to catch a monthly Q&A with an industry professional.  In Los Angeles, you could attend a different event–or three or four–every night, and go for drinks after.

So, my vote is make the move.

One tip: prepare yourself as much as you can from where you are. Get the degree or training or real-life experience. Direct that short video (or five) while you’re where it’s easy to get locations. Write the half a dozen screenplays everyone has to write before being any good. Cut together a reel of material that makes you look like you belong in Hollywood.  L.A. is expensive and soul-grinding, so do the preparation in advance. You’ll be on much better footing when you start shaking hands out here.

More on the subject tomorrow!

So in my ideal world, I do my paying work first, my me work next, and watch TV at the end.  But if my tutoring, the paying work, starts when school gets out, the only way to maintain my preferred schedule is to go nocturnal.  Which I often do.  And it can be a nice pattern, until one has to interact with the regular, diurnal inhabitants of the world.  Sigh…

Worse is the fact that doing me-work after tutoring  is rough, because I’ll finish each day at 8 or 9, and want to go sit in a coffee shop and write for the next three or four hours.  So, perched as I am from this perspective, I can point out a symptom of our current economy that other might not see: Coffee shops are closing earlier and earlier.  Once I could count on a place or two to stay open till midnight, at least.  No more.  Ten o’clock closing times have become nine 0′clock.  Nines have become eights.  Stupid economy.

Also it means fewer jobs for writers.  But I’m focused on the immediate.

Anyway, if anyone knows of a place to get writing done in L.A., preferably on the west side, that stays open late, I’d love to know about it!

Well, I believe I’ve found the closest thing there is to the real thing. It’s called tofu steak. Currently it costs $1.25 per… well, per brick. Now, if you don’t like tofu, odds are it’s because of the slimy texture or the complete lack of flavor. But these guys have solved that. First, it’s the firmest tofu there is. Secondly–and here’s the real genius of it–they put pepper in it. There might be other spices, but it pretty much breaks down to pepper. So what I do is cut it into strips, toast them in the toaster oven, and eat them with mustard. Prep time is about thirty seconds, cooking time about ten minutes, no real oven involved. Plus, only 60-some cents worth of food required to fill me up. Hurray for the future.

In truth, those of us lucky/intelligent enough to live on the west side get to experience the annual phenomenon of June gloom.  It’s basically a tendency for the ocean to produce a lot of mist and clouds, such that the mile or so closest to the water is grey and gloomy, even though it might be sunny and bright in L.A. proper and parts east.  It’s been starting in recently, and after a couple of mini heat waves the last couple of weekends, I welcome it gladly.

I was leaving a student’s house Wednesday night and I was struck by a sensation of comfort.  For the briefest flash, I felt as if I belonged here, and I had no idea why.  The house was only a few blocks from the beach, so I knew the cool temperature had something to do with it, but what else?  Then it hit me: wood smoke.  Someone had a fire going, and for that instant, cedar warming someone’s home transported me.

Then I got into the L.A traffic.  The sensation went away quickly.

Industry people tend to hang with their own sort, as do non-industry people, although the motivations of the two groups are different. The reason industry types want to meet other industry types is because they expect those people can help them somehow. And the reason the non-industry types want to meet other non-industry types is because they are sick of industry types looking for other people to help them somehow.  So prevalent is this dichotomy that one can often find ads for roommates who are” clean, neat, responsible… no actors, writers, etc.”

I don’t blame the Nons. They’re just trying to live a normal life, and it’s not their fault that they’re doing so in a city in which half of the citizens are part of the world’s diversion factory. At the same time, I don’t entirely blame the Industry types, either. They have been cursed with a calling in which a small percent ever succeed, and almost all who do required the help of someone further up. How can they help but be a bit Machiavellian in their socializing?

Still, I always thought that was the way others would act. Not me.

But I caught myself last week, when my new housemate brought home a friend. Sure, I was cordial when first introduced. I probably would have remembered the woman’s name. But it wasn’t until later in the evening when my housemate mentioned that she was an animator that my ears perked up, and suddenly I was asking questions and eventually giving the spiel for my online comedy project. Oops. Guilty.

I need to go meet some doctors and accountants this weekend to redeem myself.

This one was really minor, evidently a 4.5 centered 30 miles away. I’ve experienced much bigger, once in Las Vegas and once in Seattle. Still, there’s something really creepy about it every time, with the noise-like vibration much lower than regular sound, and the feeling of knowing there are things out there that are much, much more powerful than you.

May all my L.A. quakes be as manageable as tonight’s.