Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Here is a picture of me looking exactly how I feel right now. If I want to post pictures of myself looking wistful and wearing extremely cool Reebok classics (which should be a staple in every woman's wardrobe) then that's what I'll do. I’m tough like that.
What's wrong with you, Veevs?
Weeelllllll let's see. I've got a little hole in my heart- for New York, my friends, a special person, and you know, my awesome life back East. That's why I haven't been writing that much. I'm trying to spare you guys. All I want to do is cheese out and talk about positive things and, well, BORING.
Personally, when I go blog trolling I don't want to read someone's thoughts on how we're all the same (no we're not), how deep down we're all connected (nope) or how we can manifest anything we want in our lives (please shut up). I mean times are tough. We're supposed to be spewing rage, not sitting back and letting life take us where it may. Pussies.
So yeah, nothing. I mean seriously there's nothing to talk about. I'm happy, and unfortunately happy takes my funny away. That means my blog has to suffer. I would write every day but do you guys really want to read about my positive feelings? If you do, then we probably wouldn't be friends in real life.
Anyhow, I just moved to LA which I’m sure you’ve all gathered by now. Haven't been here three whole days and I have meetings and work lined up, and I’m even going to be paid actual money to write dialogue for a pilot with a celebrity as the star! Can’t say who obvs, but I promise you its no one you’d want to eff. Don’t get excited because I have a long way to go. I want to be at a writer's table riffing and having my script editors sending back my dumb jokes for better ones. I want to work with nerds and assholes. I do! As long as they're funny it’s okay with me.
So, that’s me in that picture feeling the same way I do today. Except instead of peering through the ancient windows of the Angkor Wat temple, I'm looking through an arched window in a Hollywood café onto the street below and kissing my semi-glamorous New York life goodbye.
You know what I’d love from you guys? I would like you to tell me your favorite taco truck, where the best places are to hike near the beach, some fun daytimey stuff to do that isn’t so obvious, and if there are ANY – I mean even just ONE OR TWO – guys who aren’t weighted down in hair gel, leather cuffs, and over-sized hardware on their clothing, who they are. First and last name please.
I always complained that guys in New York were too slutty and spoiled for me, but now I miss their gorgeous, Eastern European looking faces. I miss their simple, clean, dark jeans and simple shoes. I mean who in the HAYELL am I ever going to love again? I saw ONE cute guy in Silverlake wearing neat white vintage shoes, but he had a dumb fucking hat on his head and a bowtie. Off with the costumes people! I just want a nice person who understands that the cut-off age for dragons and flames on clothing is eleven.
at 11:16 AM