So it's my first day in Los Angeles, and at the risk of sounding redundant, I'm already missing New York like crazy. It's hard to look at the non-shitty side of things when so many people managed to piss me off. My uncle, as it turned out, went out of his way to get my dad to read my last post where I got angry about his making me to come to LA in the first place. My dad got mad at me, which I knew he would, which is why I didn't show it to either of them, and I can't figure out why my uncle would want to cause discord between my dad and I when I have to stay with him for the entire summer.
Seriously, that was so fucked up. Et tu, Uncle?
Over the weekend I called who I thought was a good friend of mine and asked if he wanted to hang, reminding him that it was my last night out before I bit it. He refused because he "went out last night," and asked if I would be horribly offended if he just saw me again if I ever came back. Considering this is a guy who makes fun of overweight women and never waits until I get into the house when he drops me off, no, I wasn't offended, because now I know that he's a gigantic douche. We'll see if I ever call you again if I get back to the East Coast.
A couple of days before I left I also hung with a group of people that happened to include a guy that I hooked up with about a month ago. Since we know a lot of the same people, we both agreed that we shouldn't tell anybody, even though he did tell me that he had feelings for me and that he would do anything he could to help me on my quest to get back home. I'll believe that when I see it, because he's with a different girl every three seconds, and a couple of weeks later, we got into an epic fight about which I won't get into here because this post is going to get ridiculously long.
Anyway, I hung out with him and a bunch of mutual friends this week and it was the first time I'd seen him since our colossal blowout, and even though he knew I was leaving, he barely even looked at me and wouldn't even say goodbye when I left. Seriously, can you not even wish me a safe flight? Whatever, this guy always has a massive amount of groupies hanging all over him so he probably doesn't even realize I'm gone.
A lot of people, however, actually were devastated to see me go. On Tuesday I had a couple of tearful goodbyes with my family. My mom hugged me so hard I thought I was going to snap in half. My brothers reminded me to stay positive, and I told them I'd try, which is the best I can do at this point.
My blogging friends were great, too. Even though I've never met the vast majority of them, I got a bunch of supportive comments about how much LA blows and how I'd be back soon. I got an interesting perspective on my employment situation, an apartment offer, and was even treated to a legendary weekend in Boston by the formidable Ginntastic, which definitely alleviated my stress, if only for three days.
On Saturday night I went out with my friend A. We had dinner where we were momentarily joined by H, who had an early flight the next day but came out just to say goodbye. There were tears, laughter, and almost a hand stabbing when when one of them tried to steal some of my mac and cheese. Sorry, Girls- I love you, but I can out-eat the best of them.
The night before I left, I went to my friend K's place. We walked around for a while, and when I passed my old neighborhood I almost fucking lost it. Luckily she took me to a great diner where we had turkey sliders and a slice of cheesecake that I warranted amazing enough to take a picture of:
|This entire thing went into my belly.|
Later we watched the Bridezillas marathon and fell asleep around 2. I almost forgot what lay ahead of me. Almost.
After a cab ride to JFK where I cried for a solid half hour, I nearly missed my flight because the bonehead who read the boarding passes wouldn't let the line move. Unfortunately, I got to the plane on time. When I turned my phone back on, I had 13 text messages from my friends with sad emoticons and copious "I love you!!!!'s" Wow. Way to make me cry again, Guys. By now I can probably form a small tributary under my feet.
So now I begin my three months away from the city that I adore. It'll be tough, but I have to remember that it's temporary, and that I have a lot of love waiting for me when I come back.
And hey, my hair still looks pretty good.