Anyone who moves to L.A. is crazypants. I am allowed to say this because I’m guilty. L.A. sucks and yet manages to be awesome at the same time, thoroughly confusing new-ish residents like myself. Am I supposed to love it or hate it? Somebody tell me.
Yesterday is a great example of what’s become kind of normal in my life.
8am-1pm: Perform part-time temp receptionist duties. Passive-aggressive? Frustrated STILL no full-time job in eight months! Cry on car ride home and repeatedly sniffle, “I don’t wanna do this anymore.” Listen to Beach Boys in car. Sing lyrics, “Don’t worry, baby. Everything’s going to be allllll right” through clenched teeth. Unconvincing.
3:06pm-3:44pm: Go on terrible first date. Six minutes late. Upon arrival, guy has already gone THROUGH coffee line without me and gotten coffee… for himself. Gets back in line to wait with me, but only until table opens up and leaves to “save” the table while I am stuck paying for my own coffee. It’s okay, guy! It’s not like I make $345 a week! OH, WAIT.
4pm-5:30pm: See tweet from Foo Fighters, best band ever. They are performing secret show tonight. Where are tickets?! Wild goose chase all over east side. Found the line! Sold… out…? Sad.
5:30pm-9:30pm: Wallow in self-pity. Nothing going right. Boohoo. Decide to watch COMMUNITY episodes until brain falls out. It’s script research, so don’t feel guilty.
9:30pm-wee hours: Go to low-key West Hollywood bar to meet up with cool friends. Cool friends may have connections to talent agencies, where am advised I should work so career can START ALREADY, DAMMIT. Am told later on I was sitting at same table as Oscar-winning screenwriter because he is friends with my friends.
Hence, Los Angeles is an awful and wonderful place. Where else can you feel despair in the morning and elation in the evening?
Just found this on Rainn Wilson’s Twitter under “Why I hate L.A.”
Parking is definitely a good reason to hate L.A.