Welcome to your life; there's no turning back.
Thank you, Tears for Fears, for opening the new soundtrack.
Thank you, tiny girl on the LAX rental car shuttle bus, for asking my life story and helping me practice a few Spanish words in front of a smushed crowd of stony-faced German tourists. No matter how awkward I was acting, she would not stop the conversation. After asking my age (I responded "Treinta y uno") she told me (in English) that I am older than her mom. She then proceded to ask me if I was single. Yes, little girl and entire awkward bus of onlookers and citizens of Los Angeles, I am single.
Thank you, L.A. traffic, for scaring the jeebus out of me. Five minutes into driving I thought I was going to die because I kept getting stranding in the middle of intersections while trying to turn left. I've never seen so many major intersections with unprotected lefts. Makes no sense. Suck it up and pay for that little green arrow; we will wait patiently for it. It doesn't help that the beyond-economy-sized Toyota Yaris I am renting is literally a box on wheels. Who in this era has manual crank roll-down windows and manually adjusted side mirrors?
Thank you, well-dressed local with affected accent, for complimenting my espadrilles while walking down a residential street. Fashion icon. NOT. In fact, I may have to give up my standard black wardrobe with all this direct sunlight.
No thank you to the L.A. lip scene. At dinner I saw a much-too-young woman with obviously enhanced lips but assumed perhaps it was just the way she was holding a look of disgust at the lack of wifi at the booth. And then I saw two more upper-lip-plumpers. What is the appeal? They literally cannot close their mouth with the way the upper lip is sticking out. I would be worried about drooling. If I ever get lip plastic surgery, dear readers, you have the right to mock me incessantly.
Thank you, my new partners, for still being excited about me coming. And mocking my facebook escapades. Picking out business cards and white coats. Shit is starting to finally feel real.
OH. And thank you, Airstream, for not falling apart overnight despite the gusts of wind and crazy noises.
My first air bnb experience includes a shady nook, relaxing pond (with TURTLE!), and my first outdoor shower in a semi-secluded garden oasis created out of a fancy house's backyard. I didn't get murdered and I doubt I'll give up indoor plumbing, but it still counts as part of the [hashtag] adventure.
Thank you, Tears for Fears, for opening the new soundtrack.
Thank you, tiny girl on the LAX rental car shuttle bus, for asking my life story and helping me practice a few Spanish words in front of a smushed crowd of stony-faced German tourists. No matter how awkward I was acting, she would not stop the conversation. After asking my age (I responded "Treinta y uno") she told me (in English) that I am older than her mom. She then proceded to ask me if I was single. Yes, little girl and entire awkward bus of onlookers and citizens of Los Angeles, I am single.
Thank you, L.A. traffic, for scaring the jeebus out of me. Five minutes into driving I thought I was going to die because I kept getting stranding in the middle of intersections while trying to turn left. I've never seen so many major intersections with unprotected lefts. Makes no sense. Suck it up and pay for that little green arrow; we will wait patiently for it. It doesn't help that the beyond-economy-sized Toyota Yaris I am renting is literally a box on wheels. Who in this era has manual crank roll-down windows and manually adjusted side mirrors?
Thank you, well-dressed local with affected accent, for complimenting my espadrilles while walking down a residential street. Fashion icon. NOT. In fact, I may have to give up my standard black wardrobe with all this direct sunlight.
No thank you to the L.A. lip scene. At dinner I saw a much-too-young woman with obviously enhanced lips but assumed perhaps it was just the way she was holding a look of disgust at the lack of wifi at the booth. And then I saw two more upper-lip-plumpers. What is the appeal? They literally cannot close their mouth with the way the upper lip is sticking out. I would be worried about drooling. If I ever get lip plastic surgery, dear readers, you have the right to mock me incessantly.
Thank you, my new partners, for still being excited about me coming. And mocking my facebook escapades. Picking out business cards and white coats. Shit is starting to finally feel real.
My first air bnb experience includes a shady nook, relaxing pond (with TURTLE!), and my first outdoor shower in a semi-secluded garden oasis created out of a fancy house's backyard. I didn't get murdered and I doubt I'll give up indoor plumbing, but it still counts as part of the [hashtag] adventure.
so excited for you! <3
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