Sunday, November 28, 2010

OH Haaaaay LA!

Soooo... I moved to Los Angeles! I know what you're thinking -


"Uh didn't you just move to Texas?" 

Yes, yes I did! 

I moved from San Francisco, to Austin, TX in January, and have now moved to southern california. Apparently, I'm in a masochistic relationship with UHaul, and I didn't even realize it. Every time I move, I say, "FUCK THIS! Fuck UHaul, fuck owning things, I AM NEVER MOVING AGAIN." 

And like the liar that I am, I continue to own things, obtain UHaul's services, and move... again and again.

Will I ever learn? No... no, I won't; I WILL however continue to complain about all of the above.


But, I digress...

So far, Los Angeles is seemingly a cluster fuck of everything amazing and horrible about the human race, all packed tightly together in sardine-can like fashion, against the back-drop of a city with never ending rush hour traffic.


I know what you're thinking - "Bridgette, this sounds like you're living at the gates of Hell... Why the fuck would you move to a place like that?"

First of all, I'm pretty sure the Los Angeles visitor center has a part in the brochure about being a gateway to the "fiery abyss," but i'll have to double check on that. Secondly, I'm an idiot, and idiots do stupid, irrational, illogical things with their lives. I have done dozens of things which fall into the aforementioned category, and, well, I was due for a big "life mistake." 


The non-sarcastic, real world where grown-ups live answer is - LA is unfortunately the place in which my career has forced me to reside. In case you didn't know, I'm a dancing, singing, "acrobating," circus clown. That is a lie. I am a writer, which is basically a lying, singing, dancing, "acrobating," circus clown...  with a pen.


I don't mean to be so judgmental about a place I've only recently started living, but the cynic inside me refuses to disable its hold on the mainframe circuitry of my nervous system. There is also a ridiculous amount of hilarity constantly walking by me down the street, driving next to me on the freeway, and ordering coffee in front of me. It's like every outlandish stereotype is heightened and multiplied by 10 here; literally a schmorgesborg of comedic gold everywhere I turn. It's over-fucking-whelming. I might have to start a blog dedicated solely to overheard conversations. I'm a world-class eavesdropper, and will never apologize for hearing your inappropriate for public verbiage about STD's, molestation, and/or body hair related situations gone awry.


On the flip-side however, I'm starting to fear that my greatest skill in life has become complaining. Despite popular opinion, I'm not actually a pessimistic, cynical person; I just play one in my day to day life. I'm surprising optimistic about the world and human race in general. It's just that complaining is easier than praising. You can always find something wrong and make it funny. To me, pessimism is a conversational skill, not a state of being. People relate more to negativity than positivity. We tell stories of misfortune, and disastrous happenings, all starting with different versions of the phrase, "you won't believe what happened to (insert self or unfortunate parties name here) the other day at (insert relatable establishment or activity here)." We like hearing the bad more than the good. That doesn't mean we're all necessarily rooting for bad things to happen to people we know, closely, or by association. It just means we relate to the negative, and we measure the "goodness" of our lives, somewhat based on the the troubles of others we identify as equal, or "on the same playing field" so to speak. It's all relative. It's all perspective.

Plus, no one likes a "holier-than-thou, I do yoga 9 times a week, mother earth loves everyone, I piss rainbows and wheat grass," kind of person. I mean, we all say we like those people because you look like a dick if you counter with - "Fuck your positive energy and healthy lifestyle!" But the bottom line is, those people are either HUGE hypocrites, or genuinely peaceful enlightened beings, and it's nearly IMPOSSIBLE to tell the difference at a dinner party for a friend of a friend's birthday/promotion/"look at me look at me" event. So, I feign interest and understanding while mumbling under my breathe something about cleansing the world with fire. Because I'd rather be "that" girl, than a hypocrite. But I guess i'm still a hypocrite since cleansing the world with fire is a horrible idea, and I actually kind of like wheat grass. I guess I just don't believe anyone can be that "enlightened" or "positive" all of the time. Humans are weak, pathetic little creatures that constantly fuck up the simplest things. The negative is as much apart of us as the positive. To believe otherwise makes you an idiot. To say that believing something other than what I believe makes you an idiot, makes me an asshole... and an idiot.


I have completely lost any semblance of a point here, and I have no idea where I thought this was going. PANTS!


So, in conclusion/summation and in no particular order -

- I love small animals, unicorns, and most "Hello Kitty" related visuals/products.
- Don't be a douche.
- Yoga is awesome, but no one really wants to hear about your "spiritual awakening," unless of course this awakening is monetarily profitable to them.
- I am an asshole.
- You are probably an asshole too.
- I think I know more than I do.
- I act like I know less than I do.
- In the end, I don't know nothin'.


Dear Los Angeles,

I've heard a lot of rumors; mostly about your promiscuity and streets paved with broken dreams. I'm not judging. I think we can co-exist without the ironic apathy. I promise never to depend on you for anything other than a zip code. In return, I would appreciate it if you could promise not to fuck me in the ass. If you can't make that promise, then maybe a 24-hour notice before said ass-fucking commences?

Thanks,

Bridgette
love you mean it.