Only in LA


I went to yoga on Monday and my yoga instructor is an actor.  Of course he is.  Why would being a yoga instructor be his main job?  I looked him up because of his last name – I thought he might be related to Pat Benatar.  I’m still not sure if he is, because once I saw he was on IMDB for Assassin’s Creed and some other stuff, I forgot my original research reason.  In case you were wondering, it turns out that Benatar is Pat’s married name from her first marriage at age 19.  Maybe he is related to her ex-husband.  I will get back to you on that.

The other day I made a joke to a friend about one of our servers and said, “This isn’t her real job so it isn’t surprising she got our order wrong.”  Everyone has a side hustle to keep their real job afloat.  I feel like I need to clarify to people that I am not here to be discovered.  I had someone ask me that in a meeting – “Oh, you do stand-up?  Is that why you are here?”  No, it is called a hobby – what you guys call waiting tables or making coffee.  I am too old to still have that dream.  I don’t want to eat top ramen or live with 7 other people in a 2 bedroom apartment.  I want a job that pays me well, that I get a modicum of pleasure out of and get vacation time when I want it.  Probably pipe dreams in this career change I am working on but goals nonetheless.  But I do get to see celebrities without aspiring to be one.  Forget being famous, I just want to be rich…and smart and capable and…all those things you tell your kids…

My first day in West Hollywood, I went to the Whole Foods for lunch.  I walked in, looked over at the produce section and saw a guy that I recognized.  It was one of those, “I have seen you somewhere before… maybe I know you” moments.  Of course I don’t know him.  I don’t know anyone in LA.  It comes as no surprise that he is a pretty famous actor.  You would most likely recognize him if I sent you a picture.  My friend had to remind me that we were in LA, not Seattle, and that recognition doesn’t mean acquaintanceship.  Silly me.  She told me to prepare myself for more of these moments.  The unfortunate part about all of this is that I don’t know who anyone is and I don’t really care.  That means that if I think I know them from somewhere, it will be awkward for all of us.  Can you imagine how that would play out?  What a pain in the ass that would be if you were just trying to pick out some broccoli or a nice leafy bunch of kale.  I am sure it happens all the time though.

But back to the being rich and not famous thing – no one needs to know who you are.  I can be as anonymous as I want.  People might stare at my fancy car or my private plane but they won’t have any idea what my name is or why I am living my best life.  Money may not buy happiness but it sure can help with a variety of other things.  Depression can get to the best of us but wouldn’t you rather be depressed on the water in the Maldives?  I am not making light of depression.  I get my ass kicked by it pretty regularly but I can definitively say that I want to be depressed in a beautiful, sunny place.  Vitamin D helps.  Sorry Seattle, you made my SAD real.  The other reason I am going for rich is that I can’t act, sing or dance for shit and I am too old to make a sex tape with even a Z-list celebrity.  The Kardashian life is not the life for me.  I know, I know, they can’t act, dance or sing but one of them made a sex tape that put them all on the map.  Kris knows a paycheck when she gives birth to it.

Unfortunately the getting a paycheck part of my plan is proving to be a slog.  Being in LA is hard.  The weather is beautiful but the day to day is brutal.  I only have a few friends here and like most normal people, they work.  Today I don’t have any meetings and I feel like I am not doing enough, not getting “out there.”  Being Type A and unemployed is not a good mix.  I have also had too much caffeine so throw a sprinkle of anxiety on top and you have a bundle of nerves sundae.  It doesn’t help that my “furnished” apartment is missing coat hangers, an iron/ironing board and only has 3 forks, 4 bowls and 4 small plates.  They are killing it on the fake plant to bath mat ratio though.  I have counted 5 fake plants and no cutting boards.  There are also some decorative pineapples and a plethora of throw pillows that most certainly don’t make up for stained sheets and a filthy carpet in the bedroom.  I know that I have high standards when it comes to hotels and airplanes but for this my expectations were pretty low.  For them to not even have met them is crazy, especially for the price point.  I think relocation with Microsoft spoiled me.  Every apartment I lived in was fully stocked and all I had to bring were groceries.  I never had to ask for toilet paper or paper towels and wasn’t made to feel unreasonable because I wanted a blanket.  At least Penny is settling in ok.  I won’t feel bad if she vomits on the carpet.  No one will be able to tell.

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