Of Cabbages and Kings: A Rumbley Ramble through my Reminiscence

Here is how my mind works. (Let’s pretend this is artsy)

I have to write a log line

                I have a hard time concentrating on stuff. Sometimes I think I 

                have a disease.

Write a log line

                There are red leaves all over the ground. Look at the textures

Write a log line

                I hated the sidewalks in Mexico

Write a log line

                I miss my brown shoes. I liked the way the laces felt

Write a log line

                I don’t have a headache. I need to check, but I don’t have one

Write a log line

                Tweety Bird made a weird comeback in the 90s, and reinvented

                 himself from a smarty pants boy to a cute girly bird thing.

Write a log line

                Tweety Bird is like Madonna

Write a log line

                I wonder what Tom Hanks first wife looked like. I need to look her

                 up.

Write a log line

                What did we do before the internet? I would have had to live in front

                of a micro film machine thing.

Write a log line

                Remember that time I drove across the country? It was really 

                windy in Arizona.

 Write a log line

                I can’t see things far away, so when I’m 45 and I can’t see things 

                close, I will have perfect vision.

Write a log line

                Or I will be blind

Write a log line

                Why am I on IMDB?

Write a log line

                How did Shining Time Station get George Carlin and Ringo Star to

                play tiny little train conductors? Drugs did that.

Write a log line

                What is the entire original cast of Barney doing these days?

Write a log line

                What is the cast of Dr. Quinn doing?

Write a log line

                I should write a remake of Baywatch!

NO, I SHOULD WRITE A LOG LINE!!!!!!

                                The End

I’m a total Freaking Rock Star from… Charlie is boring: I’ll talk about the cops some more

First of all I would like to welcome the 5 Russians who have started reading my blog. Welcome to the blog.

I haven’t written in a really long time and frankly, it’s been too long to keep my attention on the Charlie Sheen blog. I’m bored with Charlie. I know that everyone is very disappointed, but I will try to keep Charlie’s principles in the overall themes. But, I really need to talk to you all about the past 2 situations I’ve had with the cops…yeah 2.

                I’ll preface this entry with a little bit of information about my current relationship with the LAPD. At least 3 officers know me on a first name basis. I work at a coffee shop and I’m pretty talkative, that’s to be expected. Even though I have a great reputation with the LAPD, I’m still not ok with being involved with any type of police situation that doesn’t involve coffee and pastries (smoothies are also acceptable)

                My first situation with the cops happened a few weeks ago when I was dog sitting for my friend. I just want everyone to know that I have learned a very important fact about LA. It doesn’t matter what part of town you live in or how nice your home is, at least once every six months, you will have the cops called to where you live. It may be for a shoot out (like at my house) or it may be for a breaking or entering, or it may be for people beating the crap out of each other and yelling about it.

This particular situation was happened one night after I came home from work and start to play with the dogs that I was sitting for. While running around with the dogs I hear some sounds coming from outside the apartment. I listen…nothing. I start playing with the dogs again. I hear the sounds again. I listen…it sounds like people yelling. I turn off the radio…I still hear yelling. I turn off the AC…I still hear yelling. Then I hear, “Steve, Steve, this is the LAPD. We’ve got the place surrounded. Steve, come out or we’re sending the dogs in.”

                I’m starting to freak out at this point. I’m double, triple checking that the doors and are locked. I’m texting everyone I know who is awake. And these dogs that I am sitting for, the dogs who bark when someone walks into their home across the hall, are sitting on the bed, just chilling. Not even bothered by the crime being committed downstairs. The police surround the building with flashlights, and radios, and yelling. Dogs don’t care. The helicopter is over the building, blowing the water in the pool around, creating waves, shining lights into the windows, making hideous amounts of noise, causing the cops to yell even more. The dogs don’t care. The police dogs start barking, Steve is screaming, these dogs don’t care. The aftermath of a crime scene, people come out into the courtyard. Someone starts screaming about their career, these horrible cops, their press ID, and someone they hate named Mike Jones. The dogs don’t care.  By 4 am I go to sleep, still freaking out. The dogs don’t care. I don’t get the deal with the dogs.

                The second time I’ve had a police situation this month was when I was hanging out with this guy who calls me kiddo, and hear some screaming out the window. Naturally I think, “Bunch of drunk kids, horsing around, up to no good. Some people are trying to sleep! Not me, but some people.”  Then I hear a guy yell shut up, and a chick yell, “No, no, help me, help me!” So once again, cue the freak out! This guy and I start freaking out! We go out on the balcony to see and find the drunk chick in a fetal position on the sidewalk with a guy standing over her. We yell at him. Tell him that hitting women isn’t ok (I think he already knew) and ask if she’s ok. He says that she hit him and we have no idea what he has to deal with, with this woman. (We had no idea but thought that she was pretty clumsy to have hit him and then fallen down on the sidewalk like that. We also thought that he was pretty tough to have gotten hit so hard and still be standing up and mocking this violent and angry drunk woman)

They went along their way and we wondered what we should do. Call the cops? If they aren’t complaining about the violence, can the cops do anything? Why is that girl so dumb? Why is that guy such a jerk? Neither of us saw him hit her but we heard it, does that count?

                While we were pondering all of these things, we hear them yelling again from the apartment. So, we leave and run out to find them. According to the sounds, they are clearly killing each other. We meet some other neighbors in the hall. They’ve heard the screaming too, and they called the police. (Yay! We didn’t have to!!!)

So we find the apartment, talk the jerk guy into the hall and wait on the cops (Ok I didn’t do anything but the waiting part, but I witnessed it all). The cops arrive and the 4 of us wait while justice is served. Apparently I am hilarious while I wait because a girl we were waiting with asked if we ever did shows. I told her yes, but I didn’t have any scheduled. There was no justice served that day. Just some really awkward glances as the violent drunk couple parted ways and left. But I learned 2 important lessons.

1)      Crime is everywhere in LA, and I should get to know more cops.

2)      If you can make fans during a domestic dispute, that’s a good sign that you are a TOTAL FREAKING ROCK STAR FROM MARS! (and you may have tiger blood) Also, it makes me feel like doing the standup comedy thing is a pretty good idea.

Thanks domestic violence for giving me a thumbs up and a push in the right direction.  Oh, LA.

Are you Bi-polar? Nope, I’m from Kentucky and broke. I mean, winning

Whenever I meet a vegetarian I try to commiserate with them and I usually say that I am also a vegetarian, then I proceed to eat meat.  If they question me, I tell them I’m a non-practicing vegetarian, or I say that I culturally identify with vegetarians, but that’s not my personal persuasion of living. Try it, then, question the way you live your life.

As you know, I have been trying to live each day like Charlie Sheen.  It’s really hard, especially without the heroine. My last post was a couple of weeks ago, and I’m sure that all of my European readers and that one guy in Indonesia are wondering what happened to my challenge. Well, I took a week off from life and went back home to Louisville, KY. It was great to be home, but the weather was crap and I was so busy having friends that I didn’t have any time to write the blog that my friends read.

So, I’m back and in LA and hating on hippies even more than I did before. Luckily for me, I had a co-worker say this to me the other day, and it sparked this blog back to life.

“I like how you can cut me down and simultaneously support me in the same sentence” 

I responded, “Yeah I’m a Gemini” but really I though, hey, that sounds Bi-polar! I’ve been trying to get someone to ask me if I was bi-polar for weeks! Finally!

So, the next part was trying to find out how I was bi-winning, or how I could start bi-winning. I found myself talking to a friend of mine who had been cheating on his wife for years and I thought, wow, dude, you are bi-winning! Even losers bi-win now and then.

Then I realized: I think I’m bi-losing…bi-coastal bi-losing, the worst kind of bi-losing, really. I am losing in LA and I am losing in Kentucky.

When I went home, I just wanted to see my family and the people I cared about the most, and I did. I was actually pretty nervous about seeing everyone else. I didn’t want to be disillusioned. Everything looks perfect from far away.

Some people haven’t changed a bit. Some have changed for the better. Some I had forgotten that I didn’t like anyway.  Others have just lost themselves. I didn’t even recognize them. Then there were the people who reminded me why I moved here. It’s remarkable what an hour with the right people can do. Inspirational

Then, sometimes, a special person kicks you right in the ‘nads and you realize that you are losing. That happened in Kentucky too. So, when I got back to LA and realized how disgusting life can be, and got kicked in the ‘nads  by my bank account, I realized, I AM BI-LOSING! I am losing personally and I am losing officially! I’m sorry Charlie Sheen.

I don’t know how to fix this. I guess time should do it? To bi-win we must first bi-lose? That sounds Biblical. But I don’t wanna bi-lose! I want to bi-win dagnabbit! Win here, win there, win, win everywhere!

My wins are so little, like, I found my black and pink argyle sock the other day. My bangs look pretty good on a consistent basis, and my check engine light on my car went off for a couple minutes the other day. I don’t even know if those are considered wins. I guess the point of this could be to appreciate the tiny wins everyday and hope that they outweigh the overwhelming feeling of my bi-coastal bi-losing? Nope, I’m just going to listen to obscure music on YouTube, wear hats, and wallow in my sea of self-centered self-loathing.  

The next post is “I’m a Total Freaking Rock star from Mars.” Maybe this next section will be more positive.

The best part of being in the basement is knowing that there is an entire building sitting on top of you…no wait…

Banging 7 Gram Rocks? (It's how I roll) and "The GO"

So today is day one of living like Charlie Sheen, well, Ok, I actually started this a few days ago, but I just now got to the point where I could write about my experiences.
So, in the last post I mentioned my issues with the hippies and all of the self evaluation that I had been doing lately. (I hate when one blog post builds off another, and that's what I'm doing. I think each blog post should be like an episode of Seinfeld. You can watch it, without following the show and be completely entertained and then nominate it for a people's choice award a year after it's been off the air. That's what I aspire to be, in this blog...ok..back to the blog)

Anyway, I decided to follow the epic words of Charlie Sheen in this song

So, the first phrase that I decided to explore was:
"I was banging 7 gram rocks"
(this sounds like the beginning of a crappy paper I would have submitted in Spanish Class, but it would read like this: La primera frase que yo decidia explorar fue, "Yo estuve usando las rocas 7 gramas" It's so crappy, trust me)
 LA is the perfect back drop for this story. Crazy drug dealers driving the streets. Homeless people walking around Starbucks parking lots wearing only underwear and a kids life jackets. Armenians yelling at you for looking at their bagels. It's a rough town. The perfect place to BANG 7 GRAM ROCKS!

So I did it, and I was told I had a great time.  Unfortunately I woke up wearing a Tshirt from 2 concerts I didn't even go to, with a bag from Carl's Jr and a tea light candle. (Thanks Jeff for taking the pic)
This experience taught me that I'm pretty much invincible. No, I am.

This is short, so I will also talk about
       "I have one gear GO"
(This one will get a little bit more in depth.)
       Everyday we have to get up in the morning and GO. If you've ever met me, you probably know that I don't like to get up in the morning, and if I don't have somewhere to be, I won't do it. When I was in middle school, I was homeschooled and the only reason I ever got out of bed in the morning was to watch re-runs of Knight Rider. Yep. That's me.
       So, we wake up for our jobs, our kids, our appointments, but what happens when you don't have any of those things? Why do you ever wake up? Theoretically, you should wake up because you're not tired anymore, but really, c'mon, that's not going to happen. When I moved out here, I had no job, no kids, no appointments, no plans, no reason to wake up, but I still did. I didn't really know why, but Charlie Sheen says that he has one gear, GO. Maybe it was the GO that got me up. Sometimes you just do things because you have to. You want to pee so much that you get out of bed. No matter how much you hate your life, you feel that push inside your guts and you keep going. Deep down inside I knew/ know that I have to get up every morning and write a blog, and practice my ukulele, and write my stand up, and write my pilot, and write my feature, and go to work, because I know that I didn't leave everything I loved in Kentucky to sleep in LA.
        I'm positive that Charlie Sheen probably was talking about getting jazzed up on expensive cocaine, but the theory is the same. It's a focus on the force that moves us forward. (Not "The Force" from Star Wars. That doesn't move us forward. That "Force" controls our actions, but it also obey's our commands.) Charlie Sheen's GO and my GO are similar in that they keep us moving when sleep, and happiness, and fun die out. Dreams and Plans; Coke and Supermodels, it all works the same. Chew on that introspective stuff Hippies. I'm waking up in the morning and eating a healthy breakfast. That's the kind of girl I am.
Thanks Charlie.
So, we beat on, boats against the current, ceaselessly into the future (Shut up Fitzgerald, this is how I like it)

Get off my back Hippie: Aka The Hollywood Asians and How Charlie Sheen changes things

LA Sighting: I want to take a moment to acknowledge the medium sized group of Asian’s who are spreading the gospel on Hollywood Blvd. They wear safety vests so they don’t get hit by cars. They carry mega phones and yell into them. I can’t tell if they’re speaking English or not. The only reason I know that they are spreading the gospel is the large, slightly flimsy cross they carry and their signs. Every once in a while, you’ll be in the middle of something work related and the Asian’s will walk by, yelling with very heavy accents about Jesus. They’re very John the Baptist and not Joel Olsteen with their approach. There have been many days when I was walking to work, the Asians were sitting on the sidewalk of Hollywood Highschool, in a circle, singing songs, playing guitar, and speaking in tongues (trust me, I can tell). The hand gestures told me that they were Jesus songs. I didn’t understand the words. I don’t speak Asian, but I do know speaking in tongues when I see it.  I have a BA in Foreign Language.

To the Blog!

This is going to be a long blog. Maybe I’ll split it up. Ok, I’ll split it up.

This is the first part:

                For the past few weeks I’ve been feeling weird about myself. Asking questions like, why did I move here? What am I doing here? How am I going to survive on very little money? Who are my friends? Why am I so short? How do these white California girls get their butts to look like that, mine is like 36% Latina but I still can’t get a tan. I can’t wear leggings for pants I’m too fat. Then I had a run in with a hippie, similar to a run in I had with a SunTan City girl a year ago. It made me question myself. Am I not artsy enough? Am I too ha, ha, funny, funny, and not appreciative enough of natural beauty? Do I complain too much, and not read enough? Should I become a vegetarian? Should I buy some Toms?

                So, I took some time and looked inside and out, and cried a little bit, and then I realized some things:

1)      I am me. I am ha, ha, funny, funny. I have always been that way. It’s my coping mechanism. You have yours, and I have mine. 

2)      Some people are hippies.Some people hate hippies. I only hate people who are rude to customer service workers, and people who ask for lattes with no foam. (I hate those people!)

3)      I do complain too much and I should read more, but really, where did reading ever get anyone? I should write more, and I will.

4)      So, in lieu of not complaining as much, I decided to spend the next 6 days exploring some inspirational words, and incorporating them into my daily life.

The following song actually inspired me to try to live better. I know what you’re thinking, but listen to it, and see if the chord progression doesn’t make you want to do better.

Each of the next 6 days I will try to explore an inspirational phrase of Charlie Sheen as given to us by this auto tuned wonder. Here’s what you’re in for.

Banging 7 gram rocks (It’s how I roll)

GO!

Bipolar? Nope, Bi-winning!

I’m A Total Freaking Rock Star From Mars.

C’mon Bro, I got Tiger Blood!

If you borrowed my brain, you’d be like, dude, can’t handle it!

 I know that you are pre-judging the future posts of the blog, and all of my readers in Latvia (yes, I have readers in Latvia) you may be lost, but I promise, you will find yourself in one of these post and you will laugh or you will learn something about LA or a weird person I saw in LA.

It’s going to be a fast turn over, so get your reading glasses on and show a hippie how much you care about poetry or the earth or something and read this blog.  Charlie may change me. 

I’m working for the most powerful rodent in the world. #6

I work for “Mouse Works Inc.”. My first real day was to work the press junket for a film we will call, Autos 2. (It’s the sequel to Autos.) My job for the day was to, and I quote my manager, “Stand here and look pretty.” So, I stood next to a hand sanitizer dispenser for 5 hours in the cold. Yes, back when this happened, it was pretty cold here. I know what you’re thinking, “Wasn’t it really great to work the press junket? There were reporters and celebrities, and interesting interviews!” Well, I will tell you, YES it was pretty great. I got to see great interviews with really interesting people on topics that interest me. Yes, autos and animation interest me. I never claimed to have sophisticated interests. However, I also realized something, when you work for a giant corporation with endless funds; they have no problem paying you to do nothing. A major part of my “standing there and looking pretty” was “not to talk to anyone.” That is very hard for me. Very hard!  It’s even harder when the people who are standing around you notice that you have been standing in one spot for hours and they start asking you questions, like, “Why are you here?” What was I supposed to do, play Pictionary? I had to answer them.

So, now we have another entry of here’s what I said, here’s what I wanted to say:  

            They would ask: What are you doing? You’ve been standing here for hours. Or they would say. Why are you standing here? Or what’s your job today?

            I wanted to say: I have no idea. They told me to stand here, look pretty, smile and not talk to you. I think they are just trying to A) guard their stuff from you and your grubby hands and B) make it look like there are more people here. It makes the entire situation more exciting when there are more people here.

            I really said: I am demonstrating how to use this hand sanitizer. Would you like a demonstration? Then I would giggle and show them how to use the automatic hand sanitizer pump. It’s pretty easy.

They would usually leave me alone after that.  

After 5 hours of watching people interview celebrities, I came to this conclusion; some celebrities are babies. I kind of want to say, “It’s not going to get better than this for you. You are sitting in a chair (I’m standing up) and people are being nice to you, and asking you questions that have no wrong answers, like, do you have a car? Do you like cars? What’s the most fun thing about your car?

After those questions you will get some free food, and the people around the food will be nice to you, and you don’t have to park your own car, or pack your lunch, or make sure that your black pants are clean for tomorrow. You don’t have to find any quarters to wash those black pants. You probably have a washer and dryer in your house, and a wife or nice Mexican lady who knows how to use them. If you are unhappy after all those things, then you need to really examine yourself.  Maybe you followed the wrong dream, because I’m pretty sure all your dreams have already come true at this point and you are still being a baby. Maybe you really wanted to be an administrative assistant. Maybe then you would be happy. If you need help figuring out what you want to do with yourself, I will gladly trade you. You can work at Central Perk and stand here next to this hand sanitizer for 5 hours and I will sit in that chair and have people kiss my butt. I hope that helps! 

5th Post

Ok so this post is super late, but in order to keep everyone in touch I have to go in chronological order. I had been working at The Black Olive for about a month when I realized I would rather gouge my eyes out than serve another “big bowl of salad” to 6 grumpy Mexicans. I was also having reoccurring nightmares about serving there.

Here is an examples of one of the dreams I had:

                I was at home with my entire family when Robert Redford and Robin (from Batman) storm the house, they shoot all of us repeatedly. I get shot 10 times. I can feel the bullets under my skin. I am bleeding profusely all over. Robert Redford is laughing and yelling and now catching my childhood home on fire. I ask him, “Why are you doing this?!” He just laughs and says, “I’ll get you, little girl!” Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see a clock. It’s 4:00pm! I have to go to work! So, I drag my bleeding body to The Black Olive, and I try to serve. It’s super loud in the restaurant tonight for some reason, and I can hardly hear what my tables are saying. They start getting super annoyed with me because they are having to repeat themselves. I finally hear them say, “We want a bottle of champagne!” Now, remember, I have been shot 10 times, and I’m still working. No one is bothered by the bleeding, they only care that they are having to repeat themselves.

                I ring in the champagne, and bring the bottle to the table. Then I try to open it. My hands are bleeding and weak from the bullets. I can’t get the bottle open. The table is super annoyed. I almost get it open when someone runs inside and yells, “Does anyone have a red Toyota Carolla? It’s on fire in the parking lot!”

                I have a red Toyota Carolla. I run out to the parking lot and there is Robert Redford, with a torch, burning my car and laughing. I fall to the ground crying, “WHY!!!!!” When I woke up I realized I needed another job. That was just one of many stress dreams regarding The Black Olive.

So I started looking for another job. I had been hired at Central Perk, but training took so long to schedule that I had been working there for 2 weeks when I got a job offer from a giant entertainment company that has ruled my life since childhood. We will call this company “Mouse Works Inc.”

I was hired to work at one of their theatres in Hollywood. They have all of their premiers there, and  I will be working in an attraction behind the theatre. Sort of a mini version of a theme park, and if you didn’t know, this company is kind of known for their theme parks. I’m super pumped, and I’m very sure that this experience will offer plenty of material to blog about. Any customer service job does.

  

SIDE NOTE:  there is a lady who lives across the street from me. I thought she was a nun in training, because she was dressed like a nun in training, but then I realized she just lives in a house and not in a Sound of Music Abby. About an hour after I discovered her, I saw her, in her nun in training outfit, skateboarding down the street.(on one of those long board things that you have to pump using your feet). I’m still unsure of her religious occupation. I am sure that she is pretty cool. 

I AM (blog post) NUMBER 4: Short and sweet, but vital information.

For those of you visiting California, or for those who haven’t been in California since February 2011, you may find something very unsettling every time you buy anything to eat…or enter a building….or buy clothes….or shoes….or a car….or pretty much anything. In California, there is a certain thing called Proposition 65. It has nothing to do with gay marriage, so if you vote against it, there really isn’t anything to fight with your family about at Thanksgiving.

                Proposition 65, was born in 1986, just like me, and it requires businesses to post a notice if there are any chemicals known to cause cancer present. There are 800 chemicals known to the state of California to cause cancer. Kentucky doesn’t know anything about these chemicals. Kentucky hasn’t even found out about tobacco yet (shhhh don’t tell).

800, is a lot of chemicals. Therefore, these signs are everywhere! Like on your shoes, on your car, on your apartment building, and since February 2011, at your local Starbucks. Now, since I work at the green logoed “Central Perk” I have recently been confronted about our cancer causing coffee (what great alliteration!!!).

The warning looks horrible, and basically says that something in this place causes cancer, and they put it right on the condiment bar. So, as soon as you buy your coffee, and start to put sugar and cream in it, and get ready for that first sip, you brace yourself, and read about how you’re going to die or have to pay for chemo, and cause your family tears and gnashing of teeth (And you thought paying $4.05 for a latte was bad).  So people flip out and bring their coffee back to me, with a look of “Take this cancer out of it! I didn’t order that!” and then they ask if our tea has, “All those chemicals in it too?” I have to tell them that those signs are everywhere and we are the only place dumb enough to put it out in a very visible spot. I’ve done some research and found out that the sign is because when you cook certain things past a certain temperature, they naturally create a chemical that some Sweedes back in 2002, discovered caused cancer in lab rats. So, roasted coffee beans could….haven’t…but could cause cancer in a lab rat.

                So, there you have it, people who don’t live in California. There are things, almost as bad as the stupid people in LA, they are these signs about how all the chemicals in the world are going to kill you.

                Another stupid California thing, is that LA needs subways. There is no parking in most of the city, there is way too much traffic and pollution, and the place is way too crowded. Now, don’t get me wrong, there are subways, but there aren’t enough subways stops for people to get to where they need to go. I take the subway, but I have to drive to the station, and park my car there….yeah, that kind of defeats the purpose of taking the subway, but it saves me money on having to park in Hollywood.

                So to summarize: Cancer warning signs and driving to the train stop, are dumb. Get it together LA.

The Third Post

                I am pretty sure that LA would be one of the greatest cities on the planet if we could just remove all of the people. Really 90% of LA’s problems are caused by the people that live there. Traffic, pollution, high gas prices, snobs, crime, no people in LA would result in a lovely, clean, palm tree lined city with mountains, beaches, no bad weather, and every kind of tiny food/clothing boutique you can imagine. New York has snow, Seattle has rain, Chicago has wind, Florida has humidity, nothing is going on in Texas, LA is the only city I can think of that is perfectly located in a really nice spot with nothing natural holding it back. (I don’t consider people to be natural)

 I do however, think it would be OK to keep Ryan Seacrest, he really is the heart of LA.

                Since I have found that LA’s major fault is its population, I am going to dedicate this post to discussing the consistently astonishing People of LA.

                I will start with my regular hang out, the TGIFridays in Valencia. Now, I know what you’re thinking, TGIFRidays?!!? That’s not LA, and it’s in Valencia! That’s not LA either! But trust me people, TGIFridays offers so much to this blog post, and it’s only barely not in LA.

                Last week, I was at Karaoke night and Fridays and I met some very interesting people. I will discuss the top three most interesting people.

                The DJ: She has the most intense mullet/bowl cut I have ever seen. It’s like a bleach blonde business on the top party on the bottom, if you can even imagine that. She also has tourettes. However, instead of yelling curses, she screams “Young Man!” She is the greatest!

                The girl who’s way too into it: She is also a highlight of my night. She only sings 80’s power ballads, she walks the room. She laughs at the DJ and audience (the people eating near here) as if they are in the middle of a conversation, and they are sharing an inside joke. She has this amazing pose that she strikes when holding out a note, it involves her bending her elbows in a way that makes her look really strong. I can’t describe it properly, but it’s epic. She is one of the worst singers I’ve ever heard.  

                The Super Star: He looks like he’s observing the room as an artist, but not as a good artist. He is the guy who after observing everyone in the room, announces to the room that he is an artist and he has been observing them. Then he waits around for people to ask him what he has observed. He thinks he is still in theatre class. So, after observing me sing Suerte by Shakira in Spanish, he approaches and says to me:

 “I’m kind of a heavy weight in the Valley, and I don’t usually come out to karaoke at Friday’s but I decided to give it a chance, and it’s pretty cool tonight. I really like what you did there. I’m going to do that sometime too.  Ya know,  just follow the teleprompter. It’s was really great.”

               

What I wanted to say was:  Um, yeah so I paid around $100,000 to go to college to learn how to do that. You can’t just follow a teleprompter and sing like Shakira, ya schmuck!

               

What I really said was a compilation of these sounds: “Oh? A huh, yeah… ha (that ha a was very agreeable ha).” He liked that response and went away to the very enthusiastic karaoke girl, who that night, was wearing some type of anti-bellum, cowgirl shirt thing.

That’s not the only really stupid thing that I have heard here. I recently was discussing how old I was with a co-worker at “The Black Olive” and mentioned that women can start losing bone mass at age 25.

She responds with, “What’s that?”

She must have not heard me. I repeat, “Bone mass.”

- “Yeah what’s bone mass?”

- “The mass of your bones.”

                -“What’s mass?”

What I wanted to say was: “Are you kidding me? How have you made it to your 20s without ever having come in contact with the word mass? #1 How did you make it through school, and #2 What have you been talking about for the past 20 years where the word mass didn’t ever happen? Can’t you even guess at what that means? When I say you’re losing bone mass, what does it sound like mass means? Does it mean, Puppy? Fruit? Balloons? Maybe it has something to do the size or strength or even density (I know you don’t know that word) of a bone.”

What I really said was: “Oh, it’s just like, how much bone you have” and I walked away.

The amount of stupid I have encountered here is mind blowing. I have worked an entire shift at “Central Perk“ with people who did not understand questions unless they were phrased in a certain way.

For example: Hey, Jim Bob, I’m running out of vanilla syrup, is not appropriate. “Excuse me Jim Bob, could you please go to the back and get me some vanilla syrup?”  Is the right way.

I wanted to follow that up with: I know that if I said it to you any other way, you are so stupid that you would think I was just sharing the syrup situation with you. I like to keep you included in all aspects of syrup here, as do all the other Baristas. I can see how the wording of the question would be very confusing to someone who often retrieves syrup for people on an hourly basis.

I just laughed it off and thought, “Oh, my LA, you are turning into a pretty funny blog!”

Job Interviews = Stupid

The past few weeks have been super busy, mostly job hunting. In the time I’ve been here I applied to 3 Olive Gardens, 4 Starbucks, 2 Internships, a Greek Café, and 2 Temp Agencies, I had 6 Interviews in a week, and all of them were really similar.

I think I may have stumbled upon a new form of legal torture in the USA. It’s called the job interview. I used to think that auditions were pretty close to torture, but now I am 100% sure that it’s interviews. There is no possible way that people who are hiring for and running successful businesses can seriously be asking the types of questions that I was asked during these interviews! My brother says I give off a vibe of stupid when people first meet me, and this is the reason interviewers ask me stupid questions. (I was always told I gave off a vibe of jerk. Maybe I’m aging out of jerk to stupid?)

Here is a short rundown of how my average interview went:

Boss: Hi Brittany, So, I see you’ve worked mostly in Louisville, KY…is that…um…

Brittany: That’s where I’m from. I just moved to California.

Boss: Oh wow, so do you have family out here? Or you just moved out here?

Brittany: I just moved out here to pursue acting and writing.

Boss: Wow really? You moved all the way out here to California just to act? What made you do that?

This is the point that I realized that people in California have no idea that the Hollywood in Los Angeles is the same Hollywood that is in the movies. Every single job interviewer acted completely shocked that I would move to Los Angeles to try and become an actor or writer. Generally the following happened.

Boss: So, if you’re wanting to be an actor, it makes me worry that you would just quit this job if you found your dream gig.

Really? You’re worried that I might get the job of my dreams and quit this one? That’s crazy! Because I can’t think of one human on the planet that would quit working a minimum wage job at a Greek Café just because they were offered a job hanging out on a movie set with George Clooney. I mean I’m sure that your life-long dream was to be a fast food manager and NOTHING could make you quit this. Who doesn’t love sweating their butt off in pit of dish water and people’s half eaten food? Look Sir, I want to work here so much that I promise you, if all of my dreams came true, and I had the opportunity to live a life completely fulfilled, I would give it up, just so that you wouldn’t have to try to find another minion to cover my shift at your extremely important Greek Café. I mean, I know we just met, but I care that much about you and this job.

I didn’t ever say that, but I wanted to every time! After a couple of interviews I started to answer the questions like this

Boss: Why did you move to California?

Brittany: The weather! (Giggle) and I want to be a writer and there are more opportunities out here.

Boss: a writer? Doesn’t that take up a lot of time?

Brittany: Oh, no. I like to write a little bit each day in my spare time. Hopefully I’ll find an agent in the next three years and maybe I’ll be able to do something then.

Yes, I plan on working behind your cash register for the next three years. I can totally survive for that long on $8.00 an hour. I mean after working 2 hours I can almost buy 2 gallons of gas.

Boss: So, tell me about a time when you’ve had a conflict in the work place and how you resolved it.

If I truthfully answered this question, it would go something like this:

Well, I’m a chick and I’m kind of a jerk. So, if I think someone has a problem with me, I just start being as sarcastic as possible and eventually the truth will come out and I’ll deal with it then, if I deem it necessary. My inner female will play the part of passive aggressive and the jerk will take the role of sarcastic truth.

I really said,

I generally get along with everyone, but if I have a conflict I try to resolve it the person quickly. I hate tension at work.

 Then comes the best question of all!

Boss: Tell me your greatest weakness.

Honestly, I’m probably going to be late for work most of the time. Most people at work won’t like me at first, but they will warm up to me. I am going to offend at least 3 of your customers and make you feel stupid at least once.

Or I could say that my greatest weakness is actually strength. Then give some very vague statements about my feelings toward the extremely important workplace, because this is more than just a job for me. Serving food is my life and I always want to give 100% in my life!

After I played these sick mind games with the under educated and over forty, six times in one week, I was ready to quit and become one of the people who stand in front of the Chinese Theatre dressed like Sponge Bob and take pictures with kids for dollars. But, after 2 months of trying and almost 3 interviews, I was hired by a restaurant that I will call “The Black Olive” (Since using the real name could be bad for my job) I was also hired by a major chain coffee shop that I will call, “Central Perk” in honor of the show Friends and this company’s popularity in the late 90s. I will keep everyone updated with how, my awesome new jobs play out, and how my future “low maintenance writing career” progresses.

Until then,

Adios

Introducing: Me! My first week, the SWAT Team and Tourrets.

Hello!
I am one of many LA Newbies. I've moved to this fine city to follow my dreams of being a star or at least working in the entertainment industry. I've decided to start this blog to keep friends and family (and the occasional reader who has followed a very long rabbit trail after a Google search) aware of the goings on in my life.
I've been in LA for a little over a week and have realized there are quite a few things to get used to.

Paying for Parking: Unless you are at the airport or a major event, it never happens in Kentucky. It always happens in LA. Get used to it.
Being Unemployed: It is really uncool in Kentucky to be unemployed. It's pretty average here. So is being homeless. Get used to it.
Traffic: Only during rush hour in Kentucky in designated spots. From 6:30-10 and from 3-7. No amount of yelling will make it stop. Get used to it.

Other than that. Life has been pretty great. It's mostly been sunny, but one time, I thought it rained because the sidewalks were wet, but then I realized that it was raining the same time everyday and only the sidewalks were wet. It was the sprinklers.
My first Sunday night here, roommate Jeff and I went over to our friend’s house and we couldn't get back home because there was a shoot out in front of our apartment. Wait, did I forget to mention that THERE WAS A SHOOT OUT IN FRONT OF OUR APARTMENT!!!!! Because there was one!

Let me elaborate.
-11:30 PM: I’m driving home (not using the GPS because I’m getting that good with my navigation skills) and my street is blocked off. So, I circle the block to come in on the other side. My street is blocked off this way too. So, I have no idea how to get home. I pull up to the blockade and say to the cop, “I live on this street. I need to get home.  He responds with, “There is a shoot out in progress. I can’t let you do that.” Well, ok then. At this time, I notice the helicopter with the spot light circling my block. Jeff and I wait at a restaurant called Tommy’s that serves hamburgers with chili on them, and I start texting Victoria who is in our apartment, which is apparently located on the OK corral!

-12:00 AM: The restaurant closed and Jeff and I decide to wait it out in the parking lot of a 7 eleven at the end of our block.   

- 12:30 AM: the helicopter leaves, and Jeff and I become hopeful. 

- 1:30 AM The cops decide to get coffee at the 7 eleven, and I ask them to give me a time frame. They have no idea what a time frame is.

- 2:00 AM: the cops approach my car, and say to me words that inspired me to blog. Words that I never thought I would hear, and words that I hope I never hear again. They say, “Ma’am, we’re sending in the SWAT TEAM to evacuate the apartment s on the street, so it’s going to be another 4 hours or so. You should make plans to stay somewhere else tonight.”  I have been in LA for one week and already I have a run in with the cops, a shootout, and the SWAT team is involved!

                Jeff and I drive out to my friend’s house (who lives 30 mins away) and stay the night there. I still have no idea what happened with the shooting, and haven’t been able to find anything about it on the news. Creepy 

                Two days later, I hang out with my friend Candice whom I haven’t seen in almost 10 years! We had a blast. We had dinner at TGI Friday’s and then stayed pretty late for their Tuesday night Karaoke. I then encounter DJ Debbi. Debbi is in her late 50’s. She has bleached blonde hair. She has the top half shaved about two inches long, and the rest is past her shoulders. She, essentially, has a reverse bowl cut. She also has turrets. She will randomly yell, “Young man!” in a high pitched voice over the microphone. Karaoke was awesome!

                This blog is getting long, so I’m going to end it. There has been so much great stuff that’s happened in LA so far. I've actually had some cool acting things look like they may happen. I've been hunting for jobs, because even though unemployment is cool, I just can't do it. I have some pretty cool roommates, and I've been having reoccurring nightmares about Robert Redford, but those are for the next one. Oh, and there is a homeless man in the living room, sleeping on my couch. True Story! I’ll let you know how that works out!