From numerous voice mails left by Katalina (Kat) Conta to her best friend back home:
 
Week 1:  L.A.
 
Nothing.  The wood, the metal, the sound, nothing comes close to being live.  Fans screaming for more as if in the thirty seconds between each song, they crashed from their highs.  Real, live music is a drug, and playing it is even more addictive than listening. Stop smiling, I'm trying to be intense here.  I'm a rock star, you know, an ace drummer.  Well, I will be soon.  There isn't a better place for it, right?  Sheryl Crow sang "this ain't no disco, this is L.A."  I'm not convinced that she's right yet, but I intend to find out.  Anything is better than Montana.
 
Week 2: L.A.
 
I'm in a band!  Our name is Hair day.  Benny, the frontman, says that our biggest influence is Green Day but we couldn't use their name, so Dan, the bassist came up with Hair Day instead.  Apparently it's funny.  But that isn't the point.  The moral of this story is that they wanted me as soon as they saw me.  They wanted me more when they heard me.  I guess it was easier than I thought to walk down the rock star path.  Seems every band in this town is looking for a good drummer, and I'm a girl to boot.  That makes me a commodity.  I'm going to own this city.
 
Week 3:  L.A.
 
Hair Day sucks.  It sounds like Hair Dye if you say it with an accent.  I'm never getting out of this city.
 
Week 4:  L.A.
 
I'm getting out of this city.  Yes, tour!  Who would sign our band?  God knows, but we're going on a tour of the south.  Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Louisiana.  You know, all the cheap states. I didn't know I'd have to pay to go on tour, I thought bands got paid for this sort of thing.  It doesn't matter.  I can't wait to leave L.A.  New Orleans is our first stop, then we'll work our way back to California.  Maybe an angel will discover me while we're gone and save me from my terrible mistake.  I have to go, Benny is touching my kit.