THE CRASH OF THE F150

The title pretty much explains it all. Less than 6 hours after getting my rental truck (see previous post for details), I got hit on my drive home from work. And by hit on, I don't mean some butch girl or redneck guy made sexual advances on me in my F150. I was driving west on Wilshire when a driver decided to change her mind and NOT turn left. She drove right out of the left hand turning lane and into the side of my rental F150. UGH. I didn't see it coming so I guess that's good. After a brief stint in a Dodge Neon (aka go-kart of death), I've upgraded to a Pontiac Grand Prix. It will do until the end of the week I guess, but I can tell you one thing. I won't be getting ANY play in this rental. Not like my Saturn was a magnet for hotties, but at least I was high enough to check out the options. The good news it that none of these accidents are my fault and while I'm still out $500 for the first accident deductible, the rest is covered. AND I have a prescription for Darvocet.

WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?

As much as I love living in L.A, I hate the kind of L.A. asshole who hit my parked car yesterday. They drove off without leaving a note, BUT he/she did manage to leave $2,000 in damage. And I don't know if it was a he or she or him or her, so going forward I will refer to the jackass as SHIM. I was at the quaint little John C. Fremont Public Library on Melrose and June. I parked on the street (June) right outside of the library parking lot. I originally pulled into the lot, but the only spot available was too tight because someone had parked on the line and I didn't want my 2003 Saturn Vue to get banged up. So I pulled out and parked on the street. I did my library business in less than 5 minutes. Even Dee the librarian commented on how quick I am. I walk out to my car and see it has been sideswiped-from the mirror to the back tire. No note, nothing. Unbelievable to me! THEN I ask a few people who are nearby if they saw anything and of course they don't want anyone even speaking to them let alone asking them for any type of assistance. I was just asking if you SAW anything. Ugh. Two nice fellow library patrons stopped and suggested I "canvass the neighborhood for information". Thanks Law & Order superfans, but I'm pretty sure I'm not gonna get a license plate number out of that. So I filed my claim with GEICO today, and I'm out my $500 deductible. And as much as I believe in Karma, odds are I won't be there to see SHIM get his/hers. But I am going back to June/Melrose tonight for a stakeout in my F150.

THINGS TO LEARN FROM THIS POST
1. My Saturn is newer than HJO's.
2. It would have been cheaper to go to Barnes and Noble and buy a book.
3. Shim is a fun word. Thanks Lisa.
4. All libraries smell the same.
5. My rental car/truck is a Ford F150 quad cab. It's totally badass and makes me look like a possible white trash/country music loving ass kicker. I am not.

For the love of L.A.

There are plenty of things to detest or to hate in life, but living in Los Angeles is not one of them. If you’re aged 18 or older and you hate living in LA, then leave. It will certainly help the traffic flow for those of us that choose to live there and actually like it. It’s beyond bizarre to me why so many people continue to live in a city that they claim to hate. What’s to hate about 90% of your days being sunny? Smog? Yes. Traffic? Yes? But guess what, that’s not a secret—you knew the traffic was bad and it was smoggy before you ever pulled up in your U-Haul. If you grew up here, and you still hate it, then you’re just an idiot. And don’t blame the “industry” on why you hate living in LA either. Because the boom of Hollywood didn’t happen in your first six months of L.A. residency. Now if you live in the 818, I’d be hating too, but my god, life is full of choices, get the hell out. I’m kidding about the 818. Kinda. I choose to live and love living in Los Angeles. Admittedly it was a hard move to make, and even harder move to stick with especially after my cheating midwestern boyfriend moved on with his new California girlfriend. But whatever doesn’t kill you will make you stronger, or it will crush you to the point of a truly tragic and pathetic state of weakness.

And you can still love LA, but hate the singles scene. It also goes with out saying that nobody sold the virtues of the city by touting the abundance of sexy, charming, midwestern valued single straight guys. But like I keep reminding you, it is your choice. Everything in life is a choice, except your family. Everything from your hair color to your nose is a choice. If you don’t like it, then change it. Or at least stop bitching about it. If it seems odd that I complain about people bitching about things and not making the changes to make them happier, but yet I choose to write about people complaining, please stick with me. It will be worth it.

I continued to choose to live in LA even though I haven’t found my prince charming, my acting career hasn’t happened (I should start with a class), but because sun makes me happy. And if you can start the day out with the sun shining into your bedroom half of the battle of the day has already been won. You can still complain about your job, boyfriend, body, traffic, etc. but by god, the sun is out people—get out and enjoy it. Or at least get to work within 15 minutes of the official 9am start time. That’s a start.

And even though the selection of single straight sexy males in Los Angeles is limited, you’re only about four hours from Vegas. More on Vegas to come . . .