Hi, everything's fine.

gangster's paradise and 13th floor elevators

so I am in the twilight of my youth...

(not that I'm going to remember)

I have to make the best of the remaining time I have, and everyday it's more apparent how much everything is going to change in September. Until them I am fueling the jukebox with the same songs every week (because all the wine is all for me). There is nothing on Earth like summer in Los Angeles (or maybe all summers are the same everywhere). There's a strange quiet in the dirty downtown air and I'm in love with the way we walk the streets without fear. I did so much growing up in this city I don't even know where to begin to explain. I've done all of my growing up in Southern California, so it's bizarre to think I'm going to replant my roots elsewhere for this next installment of life. I don't know how deeply my roots there will grow, or if there's a chance we will eventually take chances elsewhere, maybe even back here. I'm ecstatic for this to be my next chapter. It's a breath of fresh (read: unpolluted) air.

Seeing 500 Days of Summer made me aware of the changes within myself in the last few years. I used to resonate so well with that character, the girl who never wanted anything particularly serious. And then, one day, you wake up, and everything changes, permanently. Sometimes life takes you in directions you weren't expecting to go, but if you listen to your heart (and maybe believe in fate a little) you'll end up exactly where you need to be.

A small gesture

To escape a week of frantic ramblings from attorneys and paralegals (and the monotony of eating a salad everyday for lunch) I've decided to dine alone every Friday as a mini retreat from the office and a nice gesture to myself. I stroll into the almost deserted diner around 2p.m., the same staff there every Friday to greet me. Since I order the exact same thing (garden burger and an iced tea) the guy behind the counter doesn't even bother handing me a menu. Some Fridays I tell him, "I'm feeling wild today. I'd like a diet Coke," to which he typically responds "don't get too crazy." I've always had a great love of diners, and this is clear proof of a dying breed of nostalgic Americana suffocating in the belly of the financial district. I realize there are other diners (albeit several blocks away) but this one seems to thrive in the middle of the lion's den.

If the world has got you down...

Anytime you want to throw a pity part for one just tell yourself it could always be worse. Zombies could be running rampant and attacking the Earth. I don't know about you, but that would really fuck up my day for sure. By comparison regular life woes would seem fairly trivial, right?

Mmmmm Brains.

marshmallows.

Religion, what gives?

My coworker who is a non-practicing Jew was explaining the tradition of Passover to me. Him and one other coworker have to leave work early to eat dinner by sundown because of this tradition, so I of course poke and prod at the subject. I am relatively clueless in the Hasidic followings and have mere general working knowledge of Christianity, but this is the deal:

Apparently Moses told God to not kill the first born sons of the Jews during the 10 Plagues. Egyptians = fuck those whiny brats. So, the Angel of Death was cruising the hood and knew not to kill those who had a line of blood marking their doorstep. Um, what? If God is so all knowing, couldn't he at least properly train his assistants to do their job decently? Sounds like this Angel of Death needs a job at fucking McDonalds since he needs visual clues to do anything right. What's with the line of blood marking the doorstep? How does he know it's blood and not Smuckers jam? God forbid if this guy was a PA, he'd fuck up everyone's coffee orders for sure. I personally don't think it's cool to like dudes that instruct people to kill kids let alone worship them, but you know, I'm a bad person for not being religious. And what gives with the peer pressure God? It's like you forced unemployed and mentally unstable Angel of Death to do your dirty work? Lame.

I really really don't understand what makes this silly fable any different than Cinderella or Snow White, which people swear aren't real, but the Bible, of course it's real! Again, um, what? What gives religion? Does this mean I can write down some fake story and two thousand years from now people will restrict what and when they eat because of things that didn't actually happen? I'm just trying to follow the logic of some people, but give me a break. This shit just sounds plain cray-cray no matter how you try to tell it.