American Booty: To Live and Die in LA

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Another good sleep! Hopefully another great day coming up. I hadn’t heard from my brother yet so I give him a call. It turns out he’s worried about the interest charged on his account from doing the money transfer so he’s going to hold off until he finds out. The transaction hadn’t reflected in his statement so until he finds out, he probably won’t forward any money to me.

I also need to top up my cell phone account. One of the pitfalls here is that if you don’t have any credit, you can’t even receive calls or text messages! How preposterous! I go looking in the Santa Monica Mall but there are no Verizon stores. Lots of other shops like fashion stores and a Macy’s, but the only shop that I will be visiting is what Steph called my Alma Mater, Burger King.

The Santa Monica Street Farmers Market is taking place today. There’s definitely lots of produce here, but I think Gwen Stefani needs to get down here and get b-a-n-a-n-a-s. I haven’t eaten any for a while, but I don’t think the hills behind LA are the best place to grow them either.

It’s not as warm as it was yesterday (when I had to change shirts about three times) but I probably should have changed out of my MxPx shirt before going to the Museum of Tolerance. Besides, I couldn’t be arsed doing the second half of the Walk of Fame.

The security is very strict here as its also home to the Simon Wiesenthal Centre. It’s a museum dedicated to the horrors of the Holocaust, and how we shouldn’t make those same mistakes again. When I get in, I get to tag along with a group of trainee volunteers who will be one day leading tours through here. The training today consists of an interactive quiz, which puts the user in the position of making a decision based on assumptions and prejudices. I’m looking at this museum from another perspective. Brenda, who is training the volunteers, thanks me at the end and tells me to go forth and preach tolerance.

There’s a lot to take in here - I suppose that’s because anyone, anything, any group of people are open to discrimination. The Holocaust part of the museum takes the longest. It is mentally draining for some that can’t take it and leave early, but for us others we listen to the stories that have to be told.

It takes longer to get back to Santa Monica than it did to go to the museum, as there’s a pile up ahead. Woohoo, my first USA car pile up! Eventually, I get back to the hostel and want to check my email but there’s a pair of Aussie guys still playing poker on the PCs. They’ve been here all day and at $1 every ten minutes, I hope these guys are winning. Seriously though, how uncouth is that? They were playing last night too for hours on end. You’re on the other side of the Pacific Ocean in a country where you can totally immerse yourself and get out there, but no, you choose to sit in front of a computer. What a disgrace to Down Under you boys are. I hope everyone in the hostel doesn’t think we’re all nerds!

I rang my little sister up and she’s willing to help lend some money before Nashville this weekend. She asks me, “are you sure the place is open at 7am” and I tell her that I am totally positive - it even says it on the website. AU$600 turns out to be about $438 US (especially after Western Union help themselves) which should keep me out of trouble for now. I begin to pack my bags, head on down to the all you can eat BBQ that the hostel has put on and then I call home. I ask my Dad if there’s any mail yet. Nothing.

I feel like going out tonight for a beer but I overhear two people talking in the hostel courtyard in between the fine snag sangas (translation: sausage sandwich) everyone was honching down (translation: eating furiously) on. Two girls staying here got mugged on Venice Beach today. I so wanted to go out but I decided not to, even if the British pub was just around the corner. Sometimes, it’s just not worth it…

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