Stuart B. (the producer behind "Anchor") was also there. He also wanted a picture with the mannequin. I don't blame him. My mannequin is pretty awesome.
After the rehearsal, I zoomed over to a meeting with this really fun lady and then to a super great meeting with a few people from this company. And THEN, I got really hungry.
Check out these incredible eats from the RFD Bakery in Santa Monica:
Thai Coconut Yam Soup. Dee-LISH.
Ok, but listen to this. Later that night, I met some friends at The W Hotel in Hollywood. Just to illustrate my peasant-ness, I first of all, didn't know what "The W" was and second of all, didn't bring any cash for parking and was thus, forced to park at "The W" itself because they were the only place that would take a card. After surveying the Bugattis, Porsches and Ferraris on my way into the valet area, I suddenly realized that my ratty Jeep with bird turds all over the window and mile high food wrappers in the front seat was SO not worthy. But all I could do was hold my breath and hand over the keys to the valet guy.
After using the restroom in the lobby, I stiffed the bathroom maid, because I did not know that there was such a thing as a bathroom maid who hands you a paper towel and takes tips. Thanks, but I can pull my own paper towel from the dispenser. Apparently, there are people who need help with that task.
(The lobby of The W)
My friends and I walked over to the Palladium where we were special guests of Kaskade. I have a few songs on Kaskade's new album Dynasty, so I wanted to see him in action. This DJ has some incredibly loyal fans if he's selling out the Palladium two nights in a row.
This is Finn Bjarnson and his cute wife, Tracy. Finn produces Kaskade's albums and I must say, it's a lot of fun to record with him.
And while, I was something of a fish out of water in this atmosphere, it was maybe a little bit exciting to see 4,000 people dancing to one of my songs. But I'm not much of a party girl, so I soon excused myself and went back to Hotel Astro Turf to sack out.
But wait. The valet can't find my car, so I wait there for 45 minutes. How can they miss it? Bird turds, remember? Meanwhile, I stare at the shiny cars in the VIP parking.
And the web of lights hanging up above me. And I think about who I am. About what my purpose is. Am I making a difference in this world? And then my car comes and I can't get back to Hotel Astro Turf quickly enough.