September 20, 2008

Blue Jean Baby…LA Lady

Posted in Uncategorized at 4:16 am by LG

Oh my God, I live in LA. I find myself saying that in my head approximately once every 3.7 seconds.  I still can’t seem to wrap my mind around it. I haven’t yet been here two weeks, so it feels like I’m on vacation and that I’m just decorating my hotel room.  It does not feel like I actually pay rent here, or that the post man delivers mail to me here, or that I’m becoming a regular at the coffee shop across the street.  But, it’s real.  This is my life…in LA.  And, so far, I give it two thumbs up.  Of course, there are some things I’m still getting used to.   Namely, the traffic.  The massive amounts of people everywhere I go.  The prices for things.  Seeing the homeless woman across the street every day pacing back and forth by the bus stop, picking out food from the trash can.  (Of course this goes on in Ohio, but it wasn’t happening right outside my window.)  Sometimes I find myself just watching her, wondering what her story is…where her family is…and why she’s out there and I’m in here.

Anyhow, I’ve been really enjoying my new neighborhood, homeless people with mental problems and all.  I can walk to fifty different restaurants and yoga studios, the post office, the bank, the movie theater, lots of coffee shops, boutiques that are too expensive and trendy for me to appreciate, the library (got a card my first day!), and the subway (which apparently no one “cool” takes, but I’m gonna turn that around).  And, I’ve caught myself thinking, wow, this is what it’s like to live my life.  And i love it.  Despite the incredibly deep feelings of missing my parents, my sister and my niece, and my friends, I’m happier than i have ever been.  I’m not really doing anything differently…I guess I just have more room to breathe.  And I’m ready to plant some roots.

As for details, I’m still just settling in.  Lots of painting, lots of shopping for odds and ends that you inevitably need when you move (and i’m the brokest – is that a word? – i’ve been in my life), and lots of arranging and rearranging furniture.  But, the place is coming together and I’m ready for visitors 🙂  My cousin JP and I just got back from a Dodgers game, which was great (despite the fact they lost).  At one point, between innings, there was one of those animation races on the scoreboard – a red car, blue car, and white car – and there were three participants on the filed (in a red shirt, blue shirt, and white shirt) cheering on their cars.  The white car won…and they guy wearing the white shirt actually won a car that was driven out on the field.  It was like Price is Right.  Just to entertain the fans.  But then, the hipster crew sitting around me started chanting (in sing-songy baseball fashion): “F*ck the Homeless” clap, clap, clap clap clap.  It was their way of saying, “great idea: give away cars to people who don’t need them when there are people sleeping in the streets.”  It was at that moment that I knew this was my new home.

I also got a call from the woman who helped me open up my bank account at Bank of America – I had given her my cell phone number when I opened up the account.  She just called to check on me and asked me to have coffee with her on Sunday.  I know – crazy, right?  She’s Armenian and wants to teach me about the culture and introduce me to the entire Little Armenian population (apparently, I life right next door to Little Armenia).  So, I’m making friends and, for the most part, I’m liking everyone.

Yesterday, however, I met one of my neighbors and I realized, ohhhhhh, this is what people meant when they warned me about the stereotypical LA person and the huge LA ego.  In five minutes, not hours, this guy told me about all the moves he’s directed and the two albums he’s helped to produce.  He thew out several actors names.  I started to just nod and smile and pretend to be wowed, but but then I realized that the best thing I can do is be honest.  For one, I don’t know any of these people and I shouldn’t pretend I do.  And for two, I like sending a subtle message:  “I don’t know these people and you’re not going to impress me by telling me that you do.  I don’t care.”

Ok, speaking of impressing people, I need to write quickly about my night last night before I banish it from my mind forever.  Two words: speed dating.  The roommate of my good friend Crazy Chicken (who lives here) asked me to join her and her friend, and I was thrilled because I was in desperate need of some girl time.  Don’t get me wrong, I love JP.  He’s been a God-send with doing all the guy stuff around here (although I have used my new drill myself!)  And I love my male friends here (with whom I’ve been spending all of my time).  But, if i hear one more sports statistic or any further gratuitous commentary about the legs (or breasts or hair or ass) on some girl walking by, I might drive to the top of the Hollywood sign and jump off.  So even though the speed dating event involved men, I also knew it would involve single women, who I was actually more interested in meeting.

As for the event, all I can say is thank God there was a bar there.  I really needed a glass of wine when I saw the group of men lining up for the “dates”:  bald men (mind you, this was a “young professionals” event), men in polyester rayon blends, men with THICK mustaches, men with mullets, and – my fav – men who made comments such as, “wow, I’m really glad they gave us name tags because it gives us guys an excuse to look at your breasts.”  i wish i were kidding.  i do.  but, I’m not.  But, I tried to be a good sport.  I played along.  How it worked was this:  Everyone got an index card and a name tag for our first name and our assigned dating number.  All the girls stood in one line and all the boys in another.  We faced each other, chatted for four minutes, and then all the girls moved one man to the right.  We were told to write the assigned dating number down for anyone who we were interested in and then turn our card in (on which we wrote our email address too) at the end of the night.  The organizers would then look for mutual matches (ex: girl 16 wrote down boy 7 and boy 7 also wrote down girl 16) and do the exchanging of email addresses.

Even though I didn’t meet anyone who I would want to date, I did meet some interesting people.  I met an astrologer, who actually found a soft spot in my heart because he’s a nerdy PhD and has the same name as my father…who is also a nerdy PhD 🙂  I also met a masseuse, a magician (yea, he was showing magic tricks during his “dates”…note to men reading this: don’t do that.  don’t ever, ever do that.), a production assistant (which i think means unemployed, but I’m not sure) and a wine buyer.  I met two guys from Ohio: one who graduated from Bowling Green in 2007 (who I could have babysat) and one who played football for and graduated from Ohio University in 1992 (who could be my father).  Yeah.  So, I made the best of the situation and quickly made friends with the bartenders.  They couldn’t make good drinks to save their lives, but they were entertaining…after all, they are all actors in their “real” lives.

Long story short (because I could write so much more!), I’m having fun.  I’m loving life.  I’m going to see Nelly at the Jimmy Kimmell show on Monday.  Holla.



  1. Kristin said,

    “Oh, the men we leave in our wake…”

  2. The Owl said,

    Be careful the nerdy PhDs make the world go around and fund a lot of projects for their small fowls

    Bird of Paradise

  3. So was the referring the the “boys and girls” in speed dating a conscious thing…or did you feel like you were in elementary school again trying to decide on your square dancing partner?

    Little girl…let’s deal with MEN not boys. Especially not old, mulletted boys in polyester. Gross.

    Now, Nelly on the other hand…you know I’m a sucker for a nice grill…

  4. Anonymous said,


  5. Emily said,

    Holla back baby!
    I am so daggone proud of you!
    Keep on going, you are doing great!
    You have one hell of a fan club!

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