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Rain=END OF THE WORLD & Other Things I Learned Living In Los Angeles

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I moved to LA for a lot of reasons. Let’s get right to it, okay? I was on-and-off dating a guy who moved out here, and when I made the announcement that I was also moving out here, pretty much everyone I knew was convinced that I was a desperate pitiful lunatic following his ass – an ass that didn’t even really want me – across the country. Yes folks, my “friends” were SO confident in me that they were taking bets on how long I’d last out here after he cheated on me/kicked me to the curb.  Almost six years later and I’m still here so to them I say: EAT MY ASS, YOU JOYLESS PRICKS.

But were they right? Kind of.  I had wanted to move out of my hometown, Albany, since before I graduated college, but I had no one to do it with me and I was too much of a vagina to do anything about it on my own. I met this dude and fell for him, watched him make the move, visited him a few times, watched my cousin also make the move, and somewhere along the way I decided to do it myself.  Basically, meeting this guy gave me the lady-balls I needed to change my own life.

When I came out here, I thought I had LA mostly figured out.  (more…)

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Saturday, 1/5/13: The Night Me and Will Smith Didn’t Get Married

Saturday was rather eventful for this antisocial recluse who usually spends her weekends drowning alone in bottles of wine. Hey, by the way, everyone who asks why I’m single? There’s your answer.

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My lovely friend invited me to go see Django Unchained with her and a group of her friends, which in actuality ended up being a 3rd wheel situation when her man friend was the only other person to show up. Luckily I am nonplussed by turns of events such as this, because I am quite familiar with being the dateless ogre sitting next to the cool kids. So anyways, this white girl and her two black friends go in to see a movie about slavery together. Awkward situation at the movie store? No, friends, no, we all laughed and cringed at the appropriate times and no unfortunate race wars broke out in the aisles. Movie was top notch by the way. I especially enjoyed watching Jamie Foxx make Quentin Tarantino’s bloated visage go boom. But the night doesn’t end there. Oh fuck no it doesn’t.

If you know me you know there’s a lot of stuff that I hate. People, places and things, mostly. So you will be shocked to know that I decided all willy nilly (foreshadowing: a concept I understand) to accompany my movie date (sans man friend) to her friend’s going away party at a bar in Studio City. STUDIO CITY. Do you know what it’s like to schlep to Studio City from West LA? That’s like, oh my god, totally the valley. And I barely knew the person whose party it was! And I wasn’t going to know anyone there besides my friend and one other friend who may or may be there! And ho boy, do I loathe forced socialization with strangers. But I decided to throw caution to the wind and go, cuz hey, maybe my future husband likes bars in Studio City? He might. And we’d break up cuz he goes to bars in Studio City, but whatever. Who am I to piss in the face of fate, right?

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