10:01 am Flight lands early. Man who looks almost like someone famous helps me with my bag, proving that chivalry is not dead amongst the almost famous-looking set.
10:45 am Hit my max speed on the 405.
11:05 am Arrive at my office, where I conclude that since I’ve last been here, they’ve instituted a weight limit for the female employees. For every pound exceeding the designated weight (somewhere around 100, 105) you are forced to replace one meal with one non-fat latte and four cigarettes.
11:08 am Show coworkers photo of baby on my cell phone.
1:00 pm The Big Meeting, which includes a fine deli platter. Spongey rolls. Sinus-clearing mustard. Fudgy brownies.
3:34 pm The Big Meeting concludes. It is deemed successful. Skinny girls flood the conference room and make quick work of the leftover lemon bars and fudgy brownies.
3:38 pm Show coworkers photo of baby on my cell phone.
6:00 pm Traffic.
6:15 pm Traffic.
6:30 pm Traffic.
6:45 pm Traffic.
7:08 pm The greatest words any weary traveler can ever hope to hear: Please accept this bottle of wine with our compliments.
8:00 pm My first celebrity sightings! Debra Messing, Eric McCormack, Megan Mullally, and Sean Hayes–all right in my hotel room.
9:12 pm Room service arrives with my hummus-tziziki platter. (Only in L.A.) Show room service guy photo of baby on my cell phone. Room service guy looks almost like George Lopez.
9:35 pm Look, the lamp is vibrating…LOOK THE LAMP IS VIBRATING! Omigod, earthquake. Omigodomigodomigod. Stand in doorway. No wait…hide under table. No wait…call front desk. No wait…first I have to save my blog post. Omigodomigodomi…Hey wait, if it’s an earthquake, how come the ceiling lamps aren’t swaying?
9:37 pm Downstairs guests turns their stereo down. Room stops vibrating.
5 am Nooooooo! No no no no no!
5:10 am No! No!
5:24 am Dammit.
6:00 am Local news story about the concern that one’s pet might be fat. Somewhere in Santa Monica, a doggie spa owner rejoices, raises prices.
9:30 am Reluctantly forgo the $14 Belgian waffle in favor of scrambled eggs. Eavesdrop on two junior talent agents trading MAJOR gossip. Like:
-The guys from Scrubs like The Office and vice versa.
–King Kong was not very good.
–Good Night and Good Luck was subtle.
-“Jennifer Aniston whisperwhisperwhisper isn’t that nuts?”
9:43 am “Welcome back Ms. G! Did you bring the rain with you, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.”
11:45 am A trip to Universal Studios Hollywood for work. (I know! How fun is work?) I keep my sunglasses on through the rain. I am so very L.A.
Psycho. Something with Will Ferrell in a track suit.
of a wreckage of the very plane they’ll be flying home on the next day!”
6:25 pm Two Coronas, no dinner. Show remaining coworkers photo of my baby on my cell phone.
9:30 pm Intercept drunk girl who moonwalks into me in hotel lobby. Try to determine whether she looks like someone famous. She doesn’t.
5:04 am Noooooooo!
5:12 am Dammit.
7:50 am Refill the gas in my rental car for maybe the first time ever.
8:20 am Almost celebrity sightings at the airport: Almost Jessica Simpson, Almost Camryn Manheim, Almost William Hung.
8:25 am Guard at airport security checkpoint takes my id, says, “Thanks for the smile! You’re only the second person to smile all morning.” I respond, “Well who wouldn’t smile when they’ve got a beautiful baby waiting for them at home.”
8:25 am The tears. Oh, the tears.
8:55 am The BK breakfast biscuit. Oh, the BK breakfast biscuit.
9:05 am Run into old friend and coworker who’s on my flight. I instantly regret wearing my “plane jeans.”
6:04 pm, EST Exit the plane. Former coworker tells me that her seatmate blurted to her, “I sense that you are a very creative person. And the lord just told me to tell you that he is going to give you more ideas than the ones you have now.”
6:30 pm My cab turns onto the BQE, and I glimpse the green Empire State Building illuminating the skyline across the East River. I am mere minutes from a big plate of full-fat ravioli, and my warm, beautiful, smiling, cat-saying baby. Life is so very very good.
Although I must confess I will miss the city where women have no qualms wearing this: