Goodbye Austin, hello Dumbass

Living in LA did take some getting used to. I’m pretty sure I used to be nicer. Just another girl from Austin, I moved here 13 years ago. It was 1995 and I swore to never own these 3 tools of the devil: a black leather jacket, a cel phone, a car alarm. My second year I really needed the jacket. And the phone. But steal my Honda, see if I care.

Here’s my list I like to call Hey Dumbass, WELCOME TO LA:

Grow bigger boobs. Or install fake ones.

Tan is better.

Excess weight is acceptable only for tourists.

Grey hair? What grey hair.

Teeth were made to be white.

The newer your iPhone/car/husband the better.

An RSVP yes, only means maybe.

Enjoy that martini, it was 23$.

The weather is either sunny or fucking sunny again.

Flaky is the new black.

Share personal information with everyone: your rent, your mortgage, your unresolved childhood issues.

Have a therapist, or talk like you do. (see above)

Some days I really wonder why I live here? My boobs are just normal sized and I enjoy sunscreen. But wait, there’s plenty of reasons I live here. And lucky for me I’ve made lots of friends like me, totally inadequate by LA standards.