My day started at 7:00am because I find myself in a deficit when I don’t hear Frederick K.C. Price teach at least once a week. So I woke up to watch EIF ministries via television because I was so carefully advised to do so by Shante Smith. Having alleviated leaving the house, I was all too excited about attending The Oscars. I put on my crispest jeans, 2 jackets because Cali isn’t the real sunshine state (shout out to Florida), and my fresh pair of kicks because I knew I’d have to walk. I even put on some mascara just in case I saw Will Smith again! I parked on Yucca and Argyle and happily trekked 6 blocks to Hollywood/Highland to find that frolicking at the Oscars was only something you should do if you didn’t speak English. After I made it past the gay rights protestors and the ultra-religious self-proclaimed ministers who claimed to want to save my life, I finally got close enough to see the LAPD up close! I couldn’t even touch the barricades. By the time the limos were close enough for me to make out a license plate number, the guests were already doing a second interview on the red carpet.
And TonyToniTone lied and lied again. Not only does it rain in Southern California, it rained all day at the Oscars. And when I got tired of fighting some high schoolers for a bus bench and risking 100% frizz, I decided it was time to take another approach. I took an alley before the Hollywood strip and came up Highland. That gave me an excellent view of the skyscraping Oscar replica, which doesn’t come close to the stature of Will or Denzel.
The rain picked up and all of a sudden I wished I at least worked at the popcorn stand at the Kodak Theatre. Since they weren’t hiring on the spot, I decided to hike up Highland and linger between the parking garage and the Renaissance Hotel. I followed a woman with a custom tailored black trench and beautiful blonde hair; she was clearly ready for a Pantene Pro V commercial. Well, she had unlimited access, reminding me that my access was well, limited. It was only then that I gave up and headed towards Franklin Ave to find countless black Lincoln towncars with the infamous “TCP” on the bumper. I could smell the leather interior and I knew Anne Hathaway or somebody was inside, reminiscing on the days when they were on the other side of the barricade.
Short story long, No, I didn’t make it in, but I still ended up with the best seats in the house; front row, warm and dry, in my apartment, in front of my TV.
Stay Tuned. You’ll see me on the other side. Tiffany Black
