I'm in one of those time/space disconnects called business conferences. Endless hours inside a vast conference center under fluorescent lights, sitting in small rooms and trudging through miles of exhibit booths. What time is it? Where in the hemisphere am I? And where's the bathroom?
Occasionally I do get outside to walk back and forth across the wasteland that is downtown LA between our hotel and the conference center. Our hotel is very interesting; not normally an adjective you want to associate with a hotel, really. It's a Moroccan/Mexican fantasy on the first floor, a little romantic in good light alternating with kinda seedy. The room: no romance, just seedy. The room is funky and the bathroom is tiny, even by old hotel standards, and I'm sharing it with a colleague. Luckily we're close. If we weren't, we would be by the end of the week. We're sharing so we can go to the parties every night and not bankrupt the museum.
After 15 years in Bend, it's as if I never lived here before. We're definitely the out-of-town yokels, goggle-eyed at menu prices, the width of the streets and the weirdness of our surroundings. We haven't gotten out to the beach yet where I'll feel more at home, though I'm sure Venice has changed a bit in the ten years since I was last here.
As usual when I travel, I don't find the time to blog, so bear with me and you'll hear more when I return.
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