I want to go where nobody knows my name

Yesterday I went to a workout class with my Aunt Sara, who of course was kind enough to introduce me to every woman that was standing next to, in front of, and behind me. This was all well and good until about fifteen minutes into class when I realized that I had a wedgie and really, really needed to pick it except that now all of these women know me. So no matter which way I turn the person who saw me pick the wedgie would know my name and who my parents are and they would judge me. And let’s be clear, even in a town as small as Hendersonville I wouldn’t expect them to run off and tell anyone that they saw some girl pick a wedgie in gym class, but whenever I saw them again I would know that they know that I did that and it would be awkward. At least for me.

Remember this when you’re in a workout class and you try to say hi to the girl next to you and she acts uninterested in becoming friends: She’s not a bitch, she just wants to pick her wedgies in the open and not have to speak to you when she sees you in the grocery store.

Real Life Vs. Melodrama

Yesterday morning Chase woke up before me, got out of bed and left the bedroom. He didn’t say good morning or give me a kiss. He didn’t linger to cuddle like we normally do on a weekend.

I proceeded to break down in my head all the reasons why he might be mad at me and/or how this was the beginning of the end of our happy marriage. I figured this must be how it starts – soon we would just be passing each other at home like two strangers.

I got up, dejected, and went to take a shower. And then Chase came rushing into the bathroom to say I couldn’t take a shower right now.

Me: Why?

Chase: You just can’t.

Me: Just tell me why…

Chase: Ummm…I got up early to make you breakfast in bed and it’s almost ready.

So yeah….

Real life: 419

Melodrama that I invented in my head: 0

It’s Like Shooting Drunk, Slutty Fish In A Barrel

I’m sorry if this post doesn’t live up to it’s title. But when I was telling the story of how my car got towed to my friend Marie this is what she said to describe how easy it is to find cars to tow in Hollywood. And I have to make sure I don’t forget that phrase.

But the point is – my car got towed this weekend. Major bummer. See, Marie lives in Hollywood near the Pantages Theater, also known as “the neighborhood that laughs at anyone who thinks they’re going to find a parking space on a Friday night unless they want to shell out $20 bucks for a spot in a sketchy parking lot”. And sometimes I’m not even convinced that those parking lots are for real. I have a suspicion that some of them are vacant lots that homeless people stand at the entrance of and say you have to give them cash to park there. But if that’s true then they are really smart homeless people. Probably smart enough not to be homeless. Let’s face it, that homeless guy probably has a nicer house than me.

The point, again, is – Chase and I had been driving in circles trying to find a spot when “hallelujah!” we found one. It was a teeny tiny spot on a crowded block but I was totally able to fit my car in and so we parked and went on our merry way to Marie’s house.

Fast forward 4 hours later – after having a perfectly wonderful evening with friends and vodka (but not too much cause drinking & driving is stupid, duh), we walked back to a COMPLETELY EMPTY BLOCK. Like, not one car in sight. Most importantly, MY car was not in sight.  On closer inspection of the parking sign we realized that there was no parking from 11PM – 6AM, cause obviously those parked cars were going to cause the empty church and vacant lots a TON of problems at that hour, and, *joy* – it was also a tow-away zone.

I’ll spare you the details of me locating my car at that hour, suffice to say it involved dialing multiple numbers that were out of service (I ♥ LA!) and finally speaking to an especially friendly woman at the tow company that is open 24 hours “for my convenience”. I wanted to tell her that if they were really concerned with my convenience they would have left my car on the street where I wanted it, but I try not to mess with people that are holding my possessions for ransom.

The bright spot of the night – when I was being driven to my car at the lot, I saw a charred up vehicle and was all “OMG, is that one of the cars from the arsons over the holidays??”, and the guy was like, “oh that’s nothing, we have 10 more on the upper level,” and sure enough, there was an entire row of burned up vehicles which as I’m writing this I realize it would’ve been really cool if I had a photo but I don’t so instead I present to you this run on sentence. You’re welcome. I don’t get excited about seeing celebrities, but show me a bunch of cars that were recently in the news for being set on fire and suddenly I’m all starstruck.

So, it really wasn’t a bad night after all. But in hindsight I would have preferred to scale the fence to see those cars then pay the fee to get mine back. Live and learn. And read parking signs REALLY carefully.