Actually excited to head back to Los Angeles on Tuesday. Who ever saw THAT one coming, eh? Eh?
I’m considering flinging myself into the sun and praying for death every time one of my friends back east talks about how deliciously fall-like it is back home. I mean some of you motherfuckers are even wearing sweaters. SWEATERS! Give me sweater weather or GIVE ME DEATH.
I hate you guys.
Hey, when do you think California’s just going to be like “OK, I think we’re good on the earthquake tip you can stop doing that whole rumbling ground thing now, earth?”
Do you think it’ll be soon? Could it please be soon?
I need some help! I want to do a table read of the pilot script I wrote (What’s a pilot script, you ask? Why, it’s the script of an original TV show idea that I wrote, of course!) so that I can hear it out loud and figure out what is or isn’t funny about it.
I would make cookies or something. I make a really mean-muggin’ bacon chocolate chip cookie if you’re into that. Or I could make something else! I’m fat, I love cooking, especially for other people. And I’ll make you a to-go bag or something! TREATS!
Anyway, it would be great for me to hear it in someone else’s voice—anyone out there want to help a lady out? You don’t need to be an actor or a comedian but reading comprehension skills are sorta mandatory. Send me a message. Thanks!
Why is it so hard to find any good place within a reasonable distance of groups of friends that just so happen to be at opposite sides of the town?
This place is too big for its own good. Also I need to have more friends to drink with that are on the west side. The valley and the east side are ruining my life.
Los Angeles may trump New York in terms of the weird dating habits of its inhabitants. People are flaky. Like, way flaky. And their reasons for being so are even flakier than that. And nothing is quite so special as the secret shame some of these dudes carry when it comes to being interested in a fat girl. Honestly, I’m not sure where in the handbook it says we all welcome the pity fuck like a gift, but it definitely isn’t in MY edition. Or they only want to sleep with you in private, as if it’s illegal to like someone that isn’t the Hollywood standard of perceived beauty. And if you aren’t interested? FORGET IT. There’s a special sort of anger in a man that feels like he’s doing you a favor by showing interest in you, when you reject him.
People are also seemingly obsessed with how their work-life can impress and help their dating life. As if it somehow matters what sort of status you have in their (usually the entertainment/media) industry of choice. As if sussing out another person’s connections/aspirations is a prerequisite for a viable partner rather than, say, compatibility and interesting personality. There’s a whole lot of peacocking without any substance. It can be exhausting.
I was frustrated by dating in NYC, but LA dating doesn’t even want to try to taunt me with possibility. It just mostly makes me want to not even try.
Really, I’d just love to be proven wrong.