Every Halloween I get my 9$ Sav-on hair out of the closet and I’m good to go. 

This year I wore it to the office on friday, to dinner after and to a dinner party on Halloween. It’s both ugly and ridiculous, so of course I love it. Wearing a wig means you’re someone different. In this case, a hideous old lady with a big grey rats nest.

But there’s a weird sort of freedom it gives you, you’re in costume and there are no consequences. I get to say anything and blame it on the wig. So I can see why women have different hair just for fun and special occasions. I’m thinking about buying a new one, but fab and sassy, for my Thanksgiving trip home to Austin. 

There’s gotta be a wig shop near here.

My mom called me from her shiny new iPhone yesterday. 

So now I’m officially the only person I know without one. I was patiently waiting with my cardboard phone, til this month to upgrade. And now that it’s do-able, I can’t be bothered. Seems everyone has one, even my mom, so it’s not that special anymore. She’s always been kinda cool, for a mom, but how uncool does that make me. To be out iPhoned by my own mother.

I finally gave in, gathered up enough friends to at least look popular, then lost interest. How do some of you get so excited about what other people are doing? I just don’t care, because you’re not that interesting. Surely you knew that already.

But thanks to FB, I was thrilled to hear from a girlfriend I had lost touch with.

Kara was one of my first good friends in LA. Both new to the city, we were starting out in advertising together. We drank too many martinis and talked about boys. Then she met a man and moved away a few years ago. I always regretted that we stopped talking and thought about her every time I met a new man I thought I might like.

We concocted a funny-but-darn-practical list of requirements for true relationship happiness that we imagined our next dream date would have:

Nice hands.

Smells good.

Either loves or hates cilantro along with you.

I can’t remember anything else from the list, but come on, it had to be long. It was based on what we had hated but endured in ex’s. Ridiculous maybe, but we just knew her recent breakup had been inevitable, all because of his cilantro-allegiance. She hated it, and ended up hating him too.

Years later…add just a few more things, but the list still holds up.

I may not know much about babies, but I have great taste in naming them.

My office mate is due in February with her second girl. She’s been talking about names and ruling them in and out. She likes to pick a name in advance, then stick with it. Her first daughter is Maya, chosen when she was only 4 months along.

I suggested Ava last week and she liked it but wasn’t sure. Turns out I was right. Her husband loves it, it sounds great with their last name that she doesn’t want me to tell you, so you’ll just have to trust me. I named her baby.

Not that it was a competition…but I do like to win!!

A friend of a friend rescued this cute young thing and now he needs a new home.

This little male, neutered, vaccinated and micro-chipped chihuahua is young and friendly. And how sweet is that face! He was found roaming the streets, kept a week while notices were posted, taken to the pound when no-one claimed him and now has been brought back home because he was up for you know what tomorrow.

His foster parent already has six other animals and would like to find him a new home of his own.

If only I had a yard…can just see it now, the minute I buy a place I’ll become the animal rescuer with a dozen rescued dogs.

If any of you are in the mood to save a life, comment here or email me from my “about me” page and I will put you in touch with the foster family.

But it has been rather warm in Santa Monica. 

And I really did, until she got a new boyfriend and better stereo.

He’s there every weekend now, arriving friday with backpack in tow and not leaving until monday. I know. Our apartments are tiny and very old. Or charming and cozy, depending which story I’m telling.

This guy’s a loud talker and I’m already bored with his lectures. Apparently he knows everything about music and thinks I wanna know too. We both have all our doors and windows open and I used to love that. But as they journey from cd to cd, whether I want to or not, I hear music plus every stupid thing he tells her. Imagine sharing a house, or having a roommate that you never even wanted. The days of loving my quaint little place are over, until they are.

There’s a guy I work with who’s often seen coming and going with magazine in hand. It’s just creepy cause now we all know exactly what that means.

It’s not a library in there people!

14 years ago I was new to LA and didn’t know anyone or know any better.

My dad had a business acquaintance with a daughter here. It was someone, and I had to start somewhere. She was friendly on the phone and invited me to meet her at a friends house and then go to dinner.

I wasn’t a complete country bumpkin, but I was wearing Doc Martens with a dress. They were older and sophisticated, both married and working with real careers. My real career as an account coordinator at my first agency paid 20K. It was pitiful so I had a second job, nights and weekends at a stationary shop for extra cash. Let’s assume it was my suave demeanor that had them thinking I was a high roller. But the 40$ cash that I brought and hoped to not use up, was the reality.

Maybe I should have asked more questions. But shit, I was intimidated and just happy they invited me. So when we arrive at the trendy steak house I still figure I can order a salad. And one glass of wine. And not even spend the whole 40 bucks. By now you can guess the rest. Oh yeah, they both ate steaks and appetizers with lots of wine, throwing caution to the wind. While bragging about their sexual exploits before and after marriage, like a couple of players. So I sat there nauseous from them and too much thousand island, feeling like a total loser and cursing my sad little salary. The check comes and they seriously go to split it 3 ways. I’d never been in that situation and didn’t know what to do or say. So I shut up and put 85$ on my credit card.

These days speaking up is my favorite thing. No way would I let hungry bitches treat me badly. Wait, I wouldn’t be eating with bitches anyway.

And I know women are infamous for splitting bills down to the penny. So I’m not suggesting that. But…more awareness at group dinners, splitting the fancy food bill is usually not fair to someone.

Funny, the lessons you learn living on 20K a year.

Awful…but living here, we just get used to the fires and weather warnings like this: