Commercial

As I walked out of the subway station this morning and began to walk towards my building, I noticed a sign that said,

"Filming: by walking through this section you are agreeing to be a part of our commercial."

My office building was entirely surrounded by a filming crew so I had no option: I had to walk through. They had parked an old fashioned taxi and green truck near the curb. (The green truck, by the way, read "New York Sun Daily News"). I couldn't really tell what the commercial was for and the film crew was on strict terms to not reveal any information. Our street was unusually busy this morning with business professions walking around, a new hot dog stand, a new newspaper/magazine stand (all for the filming I know), and the jeans and t-shirt crew. I quickly realize that all these business professions sharing our sidewalk today are "extras" aka: actors. A man stands on the corner talking animatedly on his cell phone... a group of women sit on the edge of the planters... construction workers stand and talk about their new fake project.

On the fifth floor, I look down and watch them run from the rain. It never rains either. This is definitely an unusual day.

New office: Klawiter

Thought I'd share a few pics of my new office.

The view from my window:

my desk (above) it is only temporary though... i am sitting at the desk of a woman on maternity leave... when she returns at the end of April I will be relocated.

the office (below)

Downtown

Today I finally had the time to actually take a full lunch break- so I took a short walk around downtown, close to my new office. Downtown LA is so... I'm not sure yet. I walked a few blocks to a concrete island they call Pershing Square: a "park" on top of a concrete underground parking garage made of massive, bright colored concrete shapes (mostly square) with a dying water fountain and a few trees on the parameter. I found it hard to relax as I walked past numerous very tired homeless people gazing out into the distance yet somehow watching my every move at the same time. These business professional clothes don't help either- I'm not fully comfortable in them yet. You get all dressed up in the morning to go sit at a computer and then at lunch attempt to walk around in LA's usual hot winter weather. I don't fully appreciate them yet. It's been nearly two years and I am still a die hard fan of jeans and t-shirts. Someday soon I think, my time will come, and not a suit will be seen- at least on this side of the country. We young professionals just put up with it to please our 60+ bosses who write our checks... but someday.

Anyways, back to the story. I find it hard to relax my mind. Especially as I turn a corner and a man walks briskly past me whispering (just loud enough for me to hear) "beautiful booty". PLEASE. It took all my self discipline to keep starting straight ahead and ignore him even though the curiosity inside of me really wanted to look and see who this dud dude was. I walk up to the cross walk and another young man sets up beside me and starts asking questions about my day. He's wearing headphones and a backpack and his oversize shirt, that reaches nearly to his knees, is way out of place at this time of day. Oh well. I quickly turn away and move on, heading back to my office.

WOW- I do miss those residential neighborhoods I used to stroll through at the noon hour near Beverly Hills. But... something about the trees that outline the concrete park capture my eye. They have unusually large, bright orange flowers. It was if they stood to say, even in this drab, tired place, "I will let my beauty be a beacon of hope. I am still here..."