Greetings, Earthlings

So we've been having Japanese food for three days straight, the LA version of it which comes with gimmicky Japanese greetings screamed by the staff every time you walk into a place, and for some reason, lots of butter. Food has been yummy, and excessive and newfangled. Tonight supposedly we're having dinner at Matsuhisa (Nobu to you) and more sushi. I ain't complaining. Last night we had a nightcap at the Standard on Sunset and had the opportunity to witness the LA equivalent to the Bridge and Tunnel crowd, except that these peeps made our New York invaders seem as classy and debonair as Rogers and Astaire. Man, when people here are tacky, they are blockbuster tacky. I suddenly realized that even the skankiest, sluttiest New Yorkers are grungy and demure in comparison. A lot of the cyberwomen wear clothes which would not look out of place on a transvestite hooker in the meatpacking district circa 1989. I know it's a cliche, but there are a lot of surgically enhanced bodies, both male and female. People have too-white teeth, too solid boobs (O, that this too too solid flesh would melt), too-skinny waists, too-huge pecs, etc.
However, I admire the unbridled fashion enthusiasm, even if it all seems to come from the sales rack at Patricia Field. Apparently, the Hollywood glow hits the mere mortals hard and everybody is trashy-glam.
LA wakes up to foggy, grey damp weather, which seems fitting considering how foggy things can get with so much fun to be had. The skies open up in the afternoons and the famed LA sunshine peeps out. At around six o'clock the fog sets in again, right on time for things to start getting suitably cloudy.