I hopped off the plane at LAX with a dream and my cardigan

Welcome to the land of fame excess, am I gonna fit in?

Jumped in the cab here I am for the first time

Look to my right and I see the Hollywood sign

This is all so crazy, everybody seems so famous

My tummy's turning and I'm feeling kinda homesick

Too much pressure and I'm nervous.

I heard the pilot's voice on the intercom so I quickly unplugged my headphones and stuffed them in my bag with my iPod. Although I could no longer hear the song, I still continued to hum 'Party in the U.S.A" in my head, failing to hear the apparent important message.

I was interrupted from my humming by a pretty flight attendant telling me to put my tray up. However after a close examination of her face, I took back the 'pretty' part. 'Pretty' wasn't exactly the word to describe the petite flight attendant, a better word that described her would be 'fake' or 'plastic, since it looked as if she had an enormous amount of plastic surgery done onto her face. And although she was pretty, I could see behind the immense amount of makeup and Botox injections. But in her defense, I'm sure everybody in this city was one hundred percent plastic.

I did as she said and she quickly left with a fake smile on her face. She obviously did not like her job. As the plane descended into the LAX airport, rather roughly, my mind dazed off again. I was imagining what my new and upcoming life would be like, hopefully different than my last.

Life in Houston, Texas was flat out boring. I mean it really wasn't that boring, especially compared to the other hick towns in Texas that nobody has even ever heard of. However it definitely wasn't any Los Angeles. I mean don't get me wrong there was absolutely nothing wrong with my life in Houston. I was a spoiled princess, rotten to the very bone. Anything I wanted my daddy got for me, whether it was a really expensive dress, front row concert tickets, or even a boy.

But as my daddy says, "Always want more for yourself", and I have been living by that rule for the past eighteen years.

Ever since I was nine I always dreamed of getting out of the Lone Star State, and now my dream was finally coming true. I've always dreamed of becoming a big star, like Britney and Madonna.

I had a decent voice, although I definitely wasn't any Mariah Carey. However, what I really shined at was dancing and choreography. My dancing skills is what got me to Hollywood, well that and the fact that my mom and I finally moved out to California to live with my dad. My dad owned some big company; I don't even know what it's called.

But on a different note… God forbid I wouldn't get into as much trouble with the paparazzi as those big celebrities did. I mean I was definitely not a bad girl, the only "rebellious" thing I have ever done in my life would be sneaking out to a party with beer. It didn't end so hot. Let's just say it ended with me on the toilet barfing up my insides for about three hours.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by the 'clicks' from people taking off their seatbelts. I quickly unfastened my own seatbelt and proceeded to get up. Luckily I was in first class so I didn't have to wait like the other hundred people in the plane's coach seats. After a bunch of 'thanks' and 'good-byes' from the flight crew I strolled off the plane to the airport.

I dragged and carried my enormous bag and while I wasn't looking I bumped into someone and we both fell to the ground. As I sat on the dirty airport ground in pain, a hand reached out for mine to pull me up.