Being a new transplant to the Left Side, I'm still finding there are certain things that separate me from the masses here. One glaring thing is that I'm on time. Or at least within a few minutes of being on time -- if I show up five minutes late, I make apologies. This is apparently not the way it goes out here. Appointments seem to be flexible, saying you'll be somewhere at 9 means you'll show up around 9:30. Los Angeles is a land of the late, both in terms of making it to engagements on time and also in terms of how late people stay out. It really is like Swingers where Vince Vaughn says something along the lines of "we'll meet at my place at 9, go for a pre-party drink at 10, grab a bite to eat and then show up to the party around midnight." I have no idea how people here can keep that kind of schedule and still wake up to go to work in the morning, unless this really is a town full of unemployed actors and musicians who have no responsibilities and no place to go in the morning. Either that, or there's a secret plot between the city council and the entertainment industry to breed a new species of human who doesn't need sleep.

Also, I drive like I'm from the Northeast. It can't be helped, I already have two strikes against me. I was taught to drive by two native New Yorkers and I was schooled for several years on the streets of Boston, home of some of the worst drivers and worst roads in the world. Then again, some of the drivers here aren't so great either. I may be an aggressive driver, but I still think I'm a pretty good driver.

In other insanity, a Congressional subcommittee has been holding hearings on the funding of music education. And yesterday, pleading for more money for music education programs, they heard from Elmo. That's right, the stupid Muppet from "Sesame Street." You'd think that in order to convince Congress to give more money to these programs, they'd actually parade a real musician in front of these guys instead of some carpet and couch stuffing with some guy's hand stuck in its back.