Dad, Please Stop Reading My Blog...

...It's making me uncomfortable.

Sigh. I knew this day would come.

I really appreciate you taking an interest in reading it, but it's creeping me out.

I know it's a good way for you to see into the brain of your daughter, but it unnerves me that you can read all about my dating history and other slightly embarrassing facts that I don't mind sharing with the world, but mind sharing with you.

You know how you want to keep a golden image of yourself with me? Well, that's the same way I feel about me to you! I don't want you knowing that I had an affair with a big Hollywood agent (actually, you already know this) or that I used to drink myself to sleep on Friday nights at 9PM (oh wait, you know this too because I used to call you before passing out). Well, it's more of that now I feel like I can't write about certain things. I just picture you sitting there at your comp, thinking, "What's my wonderful little girl up to today?", click on my website, see a posting that says something along the lines of, "Fun With Whip Cream" or "My Parents Made Me This Way" and either freak you out and/or upset you.

Ok, look. You can read my blog. However, I'm not going to censor it, ok?

I'll just have to give you fair warning. For both our sakes.

I don't want our next phone call conversation to start with awkward silence, then you saying, "Honey, are you really that messed up...and did I have anything to do with it?"

For My Lady Friends...

To remind yourself when you’re dating an idiot and you forget you deserve better. Excuse the font inconsistency.

1. Thou Shall Not Date a Man That Never Calls You.

-Think about it, ladies. If he doesn’t care enough to see how you’re doing, he doesn’t care enough to date you. He's not too shy, or too busy, or too anything. He's not interested.

2. Thou Shall Not Date a Man That Only Calls You After 10PM.

-We all know what this means. Hooking up with him on his terms will not make him anymore likely to date you, no matter how much you think it will.

3. Thou Shall Not Date a Man Who Is Unable to Communicate.

-You’re just going to get frustrated and assume a lot. You don't want to date a caveman, do you?

4. Thou Shall Not Date a Man Who Doesn’t Ask How You Are.

-That’s just rude. Sounds easy enough, but if a guy can't peek his head out of his ass to ask about your day, then just shove his head back in and walk away.

5. Thou Shall Not Date a Man Who is Emotionally Unavailable.

-You are not going to fix him. Period. Don't let it take ten attempts at it to make you realize this (ahem).

6. Thou Shall Not Date a Man Who Tells You in The Beginning That He’s No Good.

-He ain’t kidding.

7. Thou Shall Not Date a Man Without a Job.

-Unless he’s been laid off/quit for noble reasons but this should not exceed three months unless he has the resources to sustain himself, and even then, his unemployment should not exceed a year.

8. Thou Shall Not Date a Man Without a Car.

-Unless his car has been totaled for reasons other than by his own doing, but duration without car should not exceed 3 months.

-Unless you live in Portland, Copenhagen, or any other notable “bike city”.

-Unless you live in NYC

9. Thou Shall Not Date a Mama’s Boy.

-He will take out all his issues on his mother out on you OR you’ll never be good enough like his mama.

10. Thou Shall Not Date a Stoner.

-Unless you’re a stoner too, then I just feel sorry for your future children.

11. Thou Shall Note Date a Musician/Artist/Actor if he is any one of the following:

-Carless

-Jobless

-Mama’s boy

-Stoner

12. Thou Shall Not Date A Felon

-I don’t think I need to explain much here.

I miss (Los Angeles).

I miss Los Angeles.

That day, when I watched the lights of Downtown get smaller and smaller in my rear view mirror, I thought I was leaving behind all the coagulated love and hate for the city that I had accumulated inside.

I guess I was wrong.

These past few days, while listening to the music that gave soundtrack to my last year in L.A., I felt the sting in my heart for a love I thought I gave up on.

So, I've been thinking about all those nights we drove down the PCH, coked out of our minds, listening to The Cure with the top down and the warm air wrapping around our necks, holding us firmly in our place.

Or the spur of the moment trips to Palm Springs at 3AM, watching you, with your hand out the window, your sunglasses on though it was pitch black in the desert, and thinking there was no greater moment than this.

I remember the limo trips through Hollywood, driving up and down Sunset, rolling into the Whiskey, the Viper Room, the Roxy, and crashing at the Chateau Marmont where a beautiful boy and I would watch the lights flicker around the bend and head straight towards the ocean.

And then I think, "Oh shit. None of these things happened to me."

My nostalgia for the city doesn't belong to me, but to the movies, books, TV shows, and music videos I grew up watching. Just like New York City, the charm of Los Angeles is not always the reality, but the fantasy. If you believe the fantasy, you will be ok.

I guess what I miss was the feeling off holding my breathe every single day. Literally and figuratively, I grasped for air. It was dizzying. It felt good. It felt scary. It felt like at any moment ANYTHING could happen.

To be continued...

Austin Day 36- It's Halloween Weekend and All I Got Was My Hand Being Rubbed Against a Stranger's Crotch

Living in a new city, working in retail, and having zero dollars to buy/create a costume can really take the fun out of Halloween. When most people were out partaking in the fantasy of being someone else for an evening, I was tying to explain to the 90th person that we sold out of gold wristbands and headbands because "everyone and their mother wanted to be fucking Paulie Bleeker for Halloween and you're a FUCKING IDIOT to think that at 8PM on Halloween night we'd still have them in stock."

For the first time in my life, I hated Halloween. I wanted the evening to end. I knew I wasn't going to be able to go out and even if I did, I really didn't know where to go. This holiday meant so much to me and there I was, angry, uncostumed, and stomach empty of candy. I wanted to punch every Sarah Palin or Amy Winehouse that crossed my path (I'd definitely punch one of them even if it weren't Halloween). To add insult to injury, as I locked up the store, someone shouted from a van, "Fuck you hipster!" Needless to say, I was not dressed up.

I sulked home and got a good night of sleep for my early morning at work. I woke up excited. "Today I will make up for the fun I didn't have last night!" I said to myself in the mirror. I go into work, fresh as a daisy, and watched the empty sidewalks of South Congress. I was the only one in the store and enjoyed the solitude. A man passed by on his bike. I smiled. He backed up. He parked his bike and walked into the store.

"Oh my my my! I ju-just want to pro-propose marriage to you!" He stuttered.

He was a tall man of about forty-five. He came complete with wind suit, gold chains, and cornrows.

With both paws, he took my left hand and swayed it by and forth.

"Oh dear! Yes! I'm gonna pro-propose marriage!"

He then pulled my hand lower and brushed it against his crotch.

"Oh oh...sorry!" He said.

I stood their looking at him, mouth gaped, completely dumbfounded. I knew what just happened but I didn't believe it.

"Hmmm! I like this....windbreaker...over over here!"

He picks the first item in eye shot. He starts talking arbitrarily about how he needs a new windbreaker for his bike rides.

I stood next to the door, nodding, not listening to a word he said. Two thoughts came to mind. 1.) Stand close to the door so you can escape if need be and 2.) He looks like Morris Day in PURPLE RAIN.

Realizing my complete disconnect and disinterest, he left. I watched him walk out the store and was angry at myself for not reacting more violently. I had never encountered such a situation and I did not know how to react. I chalked it up as a learning experience (what I learned is beyond me) and decided to give up and just throw in the cards for this Halloween.