I have travelled the world and lost the inclination to be a responsible adult, growing my desire to learn and feed my curiosity. I can't seem to sit still, but I know I have to.
I decided to finally push forward and book an audit in some acting classes at a school in LA, and really I was going there for a party but that was just the excuse... I booked my flight, and contacted as many of my American friends as humanly possible to try and make it the most fulfilling 10 days possible... I was going to LA for 10 days and it was going to be AMAZING.
I have to admit, in that time, I did consume a lot of alcohol. I also learned that LA is just a really big Vancouver... full of wannabe artists/actors, people who really don't care who you are but they care who you know. Flaky fuckers who can't seem to hold down plans, and cancel or ghost you on the regular. In Vancouver, it's called "getting vancouver'd" but in LA, it's just normal. You obviously don't have important enough celebrity friends to be able to make that lunch date.
It really doesn't matter who you are. Unless you are SOMEBODY. Or you KNOW someone... But that IMDb number had better be in the top 5000, or else "sorry I fell asleep" will be the most common response you hear!
I guess I really didn't have any expectations, but the shallowness of the people I encountered was mind boggling. I cannot stand people who start a conversation with "so, who ARE you? Or who do you know?" I try to ignore the nice ones who instinctively comment on "so I went for lunch with Mel Gibson the other day" knowing that they aren't name dropping and arrogant by nature, but simply because the Los Angeles culture forces them to be that way. I've never been the kind of girl who gushes in awe when someone drops a name... So I smile politely and say "that's nice" and try to get the conversation back onto the topic of lunch and their trip to Hawaii.
I can't help but silently tell myself "sheesh, if only they knew." I subconsciously start counting how many people I have seen naked and wonder how many IMDb stars they'd be worth... shake my head and laugh to myself, knowing that the day I die and my journals are released to the public, man it sure will be a good story. I reminisce on some of the good memories, some of the naughty ones. And then I wonder once again how people can be so obsessed and insistent on letting you know how they're friends with the cousin of Nicolas Cage or they met someone one time at a lineup at starbucks... cuz really, who cares? How is that affecting you and I right now, in the moment we have? I just want to enjoy a nice glass of prosecco and people watch, fantasize, and dream about the things I want to do this summer...
But this is LA. That's how it goes. If I do end up going to school here, or spending any amount of time here, I sure will have to learn patience and to bite my tongue. I can imagine it would be relatively easy to be dragged down into the celeb gossip pool. I guess I've never really been interested in the private lives of people I don't know (or don't care to know...)
Now I'm having those dreams. Those desperate housewife dreams. Am I gonna end up like that? I just wanted to learn the craft, and to tell a story... I have bigger and better things to do than boast about my car and jewels ... sigh ...
But you know, a sugar daddy WOULD be nice...
I had a blast in LA. I did spend WAY too much time alone, and getting annoyed by Tinder men. The speed in which men send dick pics in the USA is astounding compared to back home, where people usually have to be drunk to disgust/shock/sexually assault the eyes of strange young women.
So I'm going back to LA, you know. I already booked my flight.
I have no idea what I'm doing, and don't really know why. But there is a light that is catching my eye and that fire burning in my soul, since I've already done the Vancouver thing, LA is the next best method of self-torture. Why not! Wish me luck...
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