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I’m Working Here

So, it would appear I’m “working” here at this seemingly upscale hotel located in the California desert whose name is synonymous with wild, alcohol-fueled, ink-obsessed tweekers, party hipsters and motorcycle chicks.

I Adore A Good Airplane Cock-Up

Bonjour, Madame,” a sparkly flight attendant says. Her powder blue eye shadow takes me back to seventh grade. I blink hello. I’ve been butchering French for a month and cannot bring myself to utter one more word. I cannot wait to lean my head against the cabin wall the entire eleven and a half hour flight to Los Angeles. Last night’s farewell party was epic. That techno music is still pulsing through my eye sockets.