Thursday, May 30

Speaking of Audition hell...

Since I'm in that self deprecating type of mood, I'd like to share my recent auditioning mishaps.

Today, I went out for:

 a super hero

 a girlfriend who was dumped because she wouldn't have a threesome 

a sorcerer who wanted to deplete my enemy's energy level

& I rounded it out by an interview to be considered for focus groups

Yesterday I graced the audition field as:

a psychopath who cuts off peoples faces and wears them as masks

a pedestrian who gets her hair cut off by a stranger during a prank

& a needy girlfriend who had to actually plant a kiss on my scene partner drug dealer boyfriend

Oh and I took pictures of my feet for a potential spa pedicure commercial

If you know me, you know my inability to act cool, my hopeless jokes, and my clumsiness.  Factor that in with my lack of auditioning experience and you've got one hell of a recipe for disaster.   Lets just pray that none of these audition tapes ever go viral.  Or hell, that I never bump into any of these casting directors in public. 

True Life: I'm a Struggling Actress in Hollywood

Now I get it.  Struggling.  Actor.  Emphasis on the struggle.

I've been neglecting my blog because I've been so absurdly busy.  How naive I was to imagine that quitting my job would free up all of my time.  I imagined I'd be working out twice a day, eating healthy, spending more time socializing, getting more sleep, writing more, but what am I doing instead? Cramming in a week chock full of auditions and juggling meetings, a boyfriend and social outings.

 The lack of a schedule and routine feels more cumbersome than my 9-5 ever did.  I'm so worried about missing out on opportunities.  I spend hours submitting for auditions and castings and then practicing lines.  I rack up miles zig zagging across this city, wait in crammed casting offices for eternities only to be rejected on the spot.  Or worse, think I nailed it then never hear from casting again.

Being an actress sucks.

it sucks worse that I know what I should be doing.

I know I should get new headshots with a clean background.  And then print them out with a professional resume on thick paper.

I know I should get into character, figure out my scene objective and write a back story and moment before for each and every scene I prepare.

I know that I should dress the part, and change my look depending on the audition.  I should look at the reader not at the camera.  Stop saying like and um.  Stop doing that obnoxious deep sigh that no one does in real life but all amateur actors put into their performances. Research the project, director and producer. I should stay thin and ready for a bathing suit shoot.  I should keep my roots dyed, my skin with the perfect tan, should deliver my lines uninhibited and without reservations.

I know all of this, because I've been on the other side.  I've worked in casting, been an agent, given this exact same advice and criticism.

But it's tough!!! I'm running through my savings fast and don't have extra money for nice new headshots and professional resumes! And there are too many auditions, and they're too short notice! And for god sakes I can't stay thin and work out, these auditions are ALL of the time! and i'm stressed.. and stress eating! Give me a break!

Maybe I will catch a break.  Maybe I wont.  But I have a new found respect for the struggling actor trying to make it.  This isn't a profession for the weak of heart.

Sunday, May 26

The real story: Taking Care of a Puppy only fun when they're sleeping.

Let me get this straight.  Children are harder to take care of than a puppy?  And you have to give birth to them?  And they eventually grow up to despise you? Welp.  That makes my future life decisions a little easier. 

Lessons I've learned from parenting a puppy.

1. Answer this question yes.  No matter what.  Is your puppy a rescue? Apparently buying a puppy is so last year.

2. Puppys bite.  everything. And their little dagger teeth absolutely kill when they pierce your skin. 

3.  My apartment has turned into a puppy dumping ground.  Puns all intended. 

4. A puppy can get this crazed I-was-just-possessed-by-satan look in their eyes before terrorizing you relentlessly for 2-3 straight hours.  Learn this look and react appropriately.

5.  Regardless of window cracking, apparently it's not cool to leave your dog in the car when you run in to buy a scratch ticket (what youre judging me for that too? screw off)

6. Crate training is impossible for anyone with a heart.  

7. Training your puppy to go to the bathroom outdoors is impossible for anyone without the patience of Mother Theresa.

8. it's all fun and games until she hits the shoe rack. 

9. Picking up your dog from a trashy couple at a gas station? Great story to tell everyone.  But maybe stop to think why they're giving the adorable monster away.

10. Don't underestimate the power of a teething bone. Or a bully stick.  Or anything that will take the place of your shoe when your puppy goes satan-like. 

11. They'll paint your puppy's nails at Petco for an additional 20 dollar charge.  Don't do it.  No you don't need an explanation why not. 

12. If you're going to pretend you didn't notice your dog just defecated in a store, your neighbors front step, etc. then you better start practicing your 'surprised' face.

13. OK fine.  I get the car thing.  And I'm with you.  But please don't give me that look when I scream 'no you little f***ing shit' at my dog while she bites my ankles, or wiggles free of my hands, or starts growling at me when I try to drag her into the car, or she jumps up and grabs the last of whatever I'm freaking enjoying off my plate. Yes, I know that she is cute.. that's why I haven't brought her back to the shell station where we got her.. but she can be a real devil, and as her sole provider, I remain the right to cuss at her as I see fit. 

14. Shower your lil one in kisses, spoil her rotten and love her as much as she adores you.  Having a puppy, albeit nightmareish at times, is a true gift. :)

Best Acting Classes Los Angeles

You probably couldn't have come to a better place for ratings on LA's BEST Acting Classes. As a cut throat theatrical agent, I've done extensive research to determine the most accredited programs.  As a hopeful starlet, I've graced the majority of these studios with an open mind. 

There are many amazing acting coaches in Los Angeles, but these names are recognizable and will take your craft and your resume to the next level. 

you're welcome. 

BOOKING THE AUDITION: Brian Reise Studio. Perfect class for someone completely new to auditioning.  You'll learn cold reads, how to audition for the camera, where to stand, how to dress, what headshot is appropriate.  The whole nine yards.  This is a business approach.

TECHNIQUE/SCENE STUDY: Aaron Speiser Studio.  If Brian Reise's classes are book the audition, Aaron Speiser is keep the job. Check my previous rave review on Aarons studio -- These classes go beyond the sides and teach the concrete techniques of how to envelop a scene and get into character without losing sight of your scene objective. 

CASTING DIRECTOR WORKSHOPS: TVI and Actors Key. Both are great, they just get different names.  Shoot for the workshops with CDs and associates currently working on shows you could actually be cast on.  If you're overweight and you have a slight lisp, going to see the casting department for a soap opera or Pretty Little Liars probably isn't going to be that helpful.  Also, chose a scene that is relatable to the CDs current genre.

MEISNER TECHNIQUE: The Ruskin School   This is for the actor who needs a method and theory, someone with a lot (2+ years) of time on their hands to develop their craft. This is a life changing program for anyone who is ready for it.  Plus the classes are held in a airport hanger turned theater.  bad. ass.

IMPROV (Physical): Groundlings.  Let go of your inhibitions, find your voice and live in your actions.  This is an over the top theatrical stage approach to improv, but it breaks down barriers and will have you thinking on your feet in no time.  Plus the recognizable name is fabulous for a resume.

IMPROV (sketch comedy): UCB or Second City.  If Groundlings is slapstick humor, UCB and Second City are political science sketches.  Still improv games and fun, but with a bit more wit than Groundlings.

LEGENDARY: Ivana Chubbuck.  While considered a method class, Ivanna will give you it all - and make sure no student is left with an unanswered question.  You don't become a hollywood legend for nothing, right?

NEW FAME: Anthony Meindl. Fun and fabulous.  Anthony cultivates a comfortable environment where students of any level can feel at home being critiqued on his stage.

COMMERCIAL AUDITIONING: Carolyne Barry. A theatrical character study approach to commercial auditioning? ingenious.  This is how you book a commercial.

HOSTING: Marki Costello.  There's no competition when it comes to hosting in Los Angeles.  She will teach you everything from reporting to green screen to actually finding and book the job.

COMMUNITY: Beverly Hills Playhouse.  A serious time commitment, but worth it for a new actor moving to LA and new to the auditioning world.  In addition to the 8-10 hours of class/stage time per week, small groups meet to discuss their progress in LA and map out their plan of action.

If you end up visiting any of these fine establishments, make sure to name drop me as your reference :)

Friday, May 17

Nylon Young Hollywood Party

It doesn't get more quintessential Hollywood than a party by the pool at the Roosevelt.  Throw in a few dozen recognizable names and fill the rest with rising stars and you're at the Annual Nylon Young Hollywood Party.   The event felt like a showcase of fashion, with pops of floral patterns, long flowing dresses and the occasional leather staple, the attendants effortlessly meshed high fashion with laid back hipster.
What a perfect venue to network with likeminded young professionals.  The party provides a forum to congratulate on past  successes and encourage future ambition. Often this open invitation to converse with anyone doting the bright pink party wristband is frowned upon, or even impossible... as the celebrities are usually whisked to private tables away from the masses.  But at Nylon, once you're in, you've made it.  The pink wristband gives you the freedom to strike conversations with even the most star studded name.  Fedoras off to Nylon for a party well thrown, xoxo.

Wednesday, May 15

Boston vs Hollywood

BOSTON:  Don't look now but he just walked in with his new girlfriend.  Is she fat?  Worse. From Rhode Island.
HOLLYWOOD:  Don't look now but he just walked in with his new girlfriend.  Is she fat?  Worse.  From Hollywood. 

BOSTON:  Can I borrow your burts bees?
HOLLYWOOD: Can I borrow your eyelash glue?

BOSTON: I wish my red sox t wasn't stained.
HOLLYWOOD: I wish my shirt was more ripped.

BOSTON: This music sucks.. I'm going to go request "No Diggity"
HOLLYWOOD:  This music sucks.. I'm going to have my daddy fire the dj.

BOSTON:  I'm over this, lets go to Taco Bell.
HOLLYWOOD:  I'm over this, lets drive to Vegas.

BOSTON: Man we drank a lot of buddy lights.  The bills $120.  we both owe $60 plus $5 dolla tip.
HOLLYWOOD:  We drank a lot of Cristal, the bills $4k.  Hah, sucks to be a guy.

BOSTON:  What do you want for dinner? Pizza or buff tenders?
HOLLYWOOD: What do you want for dinner? aderol or coke?

BOSTON: My boyfriend took me to cheesecake for our anniversary, it was sooooo cute.
HOLLYWOOD: This guy I've been on two dates with got me a new Louie, it was sooooo cute.

BOSTON: I just cant wait to get married and have kids.
HOLLYWOOD: I just cant wait to get married and have a nanny to take care of my kids.

BOSTON: I only like guys that are big sports fans.
HOLLYWOOD: I only like guys that are big sports stars or own a team.

Tuesday, May 14

Working as an Extra : The real story

Welp. Extra work is a little less exciting than I initially anticipated.

8 am call time.

Some less than friendly woman corals the downtrodden extras and sifts through their bags of clothes searching desperately for something passable in case we happen to make .01 second of the commercial.

From here, we sit and watch the principal extras get pampered and swooned over while we roast in the sun.  I stare at them with deep seeded envy, knowing they're making more than my rent money today, and that I'll likely walk away with 100 dollars after taxes.

After brooding for an hour, the 50 extras and I are herded onto a bus.  Here we chatter back and forth, sizing up one another and guessing which, if any, will be pulled up as a featured extra (and make an extra $200!).

At the first location they fill us in as cookout guests and we have forced conversations and laughter for the next two hours while the principals get their noses powdered and re-do their one simple line over and over. and over.

Back to the bus to sit.  We aren't needed for this scene.

Hours later and it's lunch time.  Which is an incredible gourmet feast.  Really, the food is scrumptious and while laden with calories, none of us care too much at this point so we fill our plates high not once, but twice.

Back to our humble home, the bus.  And it's off to Griffith Park where we sit on the grass, waiting for the shot to be set up.. and in this case the sun to set.

Sun sets.  it's 8pm and we're ready for our big premiere again.  They chose a handful of us to walk past the camera's wide screen.  Hopefully my leg makes it in as I cross by a woods fire party filled with principle actors.

Two hours later and we're all crammed into the frame of a concert crowd being instructed to jump up and down singing... yet there's no music.  Glow sticks, laughter, arms waving freely in the air, but the camera is focused on the one principal actress in the crowd who had an 8pm call time and hasn't been melting away on the bus with us all day.  This overpaid princess keeps making the duck face instead of smiling. So we do the shot over and over until she finally cracks a smirk.

And it's a wrap.

Or is it.

We all stand single filed waiting for the coveted voucher that proves we suffered through a day of peasant work so we can call and demand our $100 and change check if it never shows up in our mailbox.

'Tis the sad existence of a commercial extra.

Sunday, May 12

Arm the Animals photoshoot

Arm the Animals 5/11 photoshoot: Fashion, celebrities, puppies and mimosas in a loft downtown?  Not sure if a Saturday can get much better than that.

Arm the Animals is a charitable clothing company that makes bad ass tshirts and tanks to raise awareness and funds for struggling animal shelters. 

Not only can you get hipster-approved threads from their website.. but they also have listings for animals in need of a good home.  The profits from their clothing line goes directly to animal shelters.  The more these shelters receive the longer they can keep adoption hopefuls from euthanasia.  Long story short, the hoodie you just bought might have kept a dog alive long enough to be adopted by a loving family.

I feel blessed to have stumbled upon this cause and excited to help spread the word about their mission. 

Friday, May 10

Little Next Door: A taste of France in LA

So.. I absolutely adore French food.  Maybe even more-so than my obsession with cute animals and Elvis.  And by 'I adore French food' I mean stand between me and a good croque madame and I will unleash my new founded kickboxing skills on you and everyone that has the misfortune of keeping your company.

Anyways, lucky for me, Los Angeles is scattered with delightful little brassieres.. and lucky for you I've eaten at each one of them a dozen times and can accurately recite every single menu highlight to you.  While it's difficult for me to walk away from any French cuisine unsatisfied, there's one restaurant in particular that has no competition in my book.  The Little Next Door.

    I can't explain my affection for a good ol' crock of french onion, a gruyere and ham sandwich, salted caramel macaroon and nutella croissant, but The Little Next Door does it for me.  If I could give up sex for food (and not get fat) I'd sign my soul to LND in a heartbeat.  And here's why.

     The atmosphere is unsurpassed.  A fabulous little bakery with homemade delicatessens, delectable wines, and a quaint outdoor, yet private, seating; LND could easily be stowed away in Nice.  So lets just entertain the dreadful idea that you're only visiting and can only eat here one time.  YOU MUST GET: a lychee mimosa, an order of blackberry jam with your toast, the french onion soup, croque madam, a side of balsamic kale and apple, a salted caramel macaroon, and a chocolat (purposely leaving out the e for effect) croissant.  Throw in a side of the potato gratin, roasted red beets and baked goat cheese salad with orange ginger dressing too.  I have enjoyed every single other thing on the menu.  and this is the best.  Oh, and don't forget to take a gruyere and ham croissant, heated of course, for the road. You'll thank me later.

Thursday, May 9

Pace Restaurant, a true hidden gem

Maybe it’s the suppressed hipster in me, but I love an unassuming hidden gem.  Nothing makes me cringe worse than the glow of Olive Garden’s offensive interpretation of Tuscany.   You couldn’t drag me kicking and screaming into any chain restaurant systematically cranking out dishes drenched in butter and swimming in grease.  Enjoy yourself, I’ll be at the locally sustained restaurant, the hidden gem with an always changing menu, the mom and pop bakery.  Heck, I’ll take a roach coach selling dollar tacos over Olive Garden.

Tangent aside, living in Los Angeles, I’m blessed with an endless array of exquisite restaurants.  And I’m not shy about trying any and all that are suggested to me.  Which brings me to my latest, and most fabulous, discovery to date: Pace Restaurant on Laurel Canyon.  

 Located underneath an unattractive, and dare I say unkempt and shabby, convenience store, Pace takes unassuming to a whole new level.  It’s easy to miss the side entrance to what appears to be a storage area for the shop above.  Sure, the restaurant name is scribbled in a classy graffiti on the brick fa├žade, but there’s not even a streetlight illuminating its existence. 

 The entrance descends to a small foyer with floor to ceiling wine storage and a cramped host stand.  After choosing to sit indoors, we were escorted into the dining area where we nestled into a roomy table with a cushioned bench.  The dim lighting and simplistic decorations created a comfortably warm atmosphere reminiscent of ducking off 5th avenue in January to escape the cold.

  I ordered a glass of organic pinot noir ($16) while our sweet and knowledgeable waitress rattled off the long list of specials then walked us through the house favorites.  Being a truffle enthusiast, I couldn't refuse the special four cheese and white truffle pizza as an appetizer ($30).  Being someone who is also a diehard for the known specialities, I ordered the cedar wood grilled salmon as my entree ($26).  My boyfriend chose the house made tagliatelle with vodka cream sauce and sausage (18).

 True, truffles on anything is delicious, but this pizza was life changing.  The chef was not shy with the tuffles, covering every inch of the rich cheeses blended atop the light crispy crust.  I could have left after the pizza and still had one of my better restaurant experiences in quite some time.  But the salmon, and the apple crisp dessert ($8) that followed, secured Pace a spot on my 'favorite restaurants of all time list'.  Not to mention, the produce is all organic and the meats hormone free.

It's easy to see why their regulars list is comprised of A list celebrities and entertainment professionals. The restaurant could have been located on a bustling street of NYC or overlooking a quiet street in Tuscany.. but it wouldn't have made a difference.  Pace indulges and satisfies your palate while offering a comfortable escape from whatever your reality may entail.

Finding the perfect spot to write & blog in Los Angeles

I made a leap of courage (or stupidity depending on perspective) last week when gave up my job as a theatrical agent to pursue a life of creativity.  Call it a whim, but I’m craving an outlet, and my job was starting to feel unbearably stifling.  I’ll go into more details on this soon, but right now I’d like to focus on my present task: writing.

 I’m an atmosphere whore, who did not quit her job (and paycheck) to sit in my gloomy apartment and stare at my macbook all day long.  Since being freed, I have searched for the perfect writing spots around the city.  This list is a work in progress that I plan to update as I go… but here are my favorites thus far:

1    1. The courtyard between Bouchon and the Montage hotel.  Beverly Hills has free internet, so you could sit at one of the small tables and let your dog enjoy the grass.  Or you could do as I did and relax at one of the outdoor tables at Parq with, appropriately enough, their most delectable drink: The Agent.  (And a cheeseboard of course).
2.  Javista Coffee shop in Hollywood. Just like Starbucks... except not a headache, overcrowded or over priced.  And their food is organic and delightful.  The desserts come from Urth Caffe (a place where squatting with laptops is frowned upon to say the least) and the salads, sandwiches and drinks are made in house.

3. Le Pain on Melrose.  A quaint cottage feel where they will fill up your coffee until your hearts content.  The front patio is perfect for car and people watching.. the back for a quitter existence. 

4. Alfred Coffee & Kitchen on Melrose Pl.  What a slice of heaven this little coffeeshop is.  With outdoor seating overlooking the quiet side street and a charming fireplace inside, this place is a writers paradise.

5. Palihouse Hotel has a lovely al fresco brassiere in their internal courtyard.  You could stay from morning to night as they offer breakfast, lunch and dinner before turning into a lounge.

5. LACMA.  Nothing like getting your creative juices flowing quite like being surrounded by creativity. 

6. Roosevelt Hotel.  By the pool or sunk into an oversized couch in the lobby, you can't beat the charm of this hollywood classic. 

Wednesday, May 8

A severe case of FOSN - fear of saying no

I'm not hungry.  I'm actually miserably full.  But my boyfriend wanted to order take out, so here I am mowing down the fried food I tried to protest against while I watch some dreadfully boring show on car restorations even though my favorite program is on.

It's not that I don't have will power.  I've gone without eating for 7 days and lived to talk about it.  It's not even that I don't have strong values or opinions.  I'm a sucker for a fiery political debate. This debilitating flaw is much more grave.  I suffer from a severe case of FOSN: a fear of saying no.  I know what you're thinking.  That's lovely, what a sweet girl who always says yes to every opportunity! But unfortunately FOSN is just a trendier, hashtag-able way to say that I'm a pitiful and hopeless pushover.

I can't pinpoint exactly when I developed this drive to please and accommodate everyone other than myself, but I imagine it stems from a young age.  Being a spoiled only child, my parents always gave me what I wanted.  I had nothing to say no to, it was all about me!  It was the early childhood play dates that must have done me in. Blame it on the anxiety of interacting with kids, but boy was I was the epitome of a sucker. And it has only gotten worse with time.

Lets take a look at the history of my FOSN for further evaluation, shall we?

 When my cousins asked me to be the dad when we played house.  The clearly least desirable of any make believe character to portray.  On this same note, I was never the teacher always the student.  Never the movie star always the camera girl.  Never Cinderella always the step sister.  You get the point.

When those same cousins wanted the good barbie, the last packet of gushers, the comfy pillow.  Well I guess I don't mind, i'm just so happy to have company!

When my mom thought it would look adorable if she cut me bangs that started in the middle of my forehead and looked more like a bowl cut than the 'wispys' she was going for. She was so excited, how could I say no? They took a year to grow out.

When my wild child next door neighbor told me I should ask a boy on the bus to pull down his pants. I have a bad feeling about this.. but alright.  Resulted in being kicked off the bus for an entire year.  In kindergarten.  I still secretly hate her.. but I'd probably still say yes if she resurfaced and asked me to lunch.

When my dad insisted I play hockey even though I couldn't stand up on ice skates.  Sure I'm the only girl, I hate sports, hate being cold and can't skate... but I guess it couldn't hurt to try.  The tragic memories still make me shiver (pun intended).

When my first serious boyfriend asked me out.  He's not attractive, has a criminal record at 14, and he's dumb as bricks.  But I guess I should give him a shot. Everyone else has boyfriends, and I don't want to turn him down. Two years of agreeing to skip class and a few other mistakes racked me up a nice little disciplinary record.

When my mom wanted me to be an altar server.  even though i was 15 and all the other altar servers were 8 and 9 respectively. Seemed like a sin to say no? Probably did a little more sinning damage that I took the lords name in vain and swore profusely when my friends happen to see me in all my towering glory one dreadful Christmas eve service.

When my best friend convinced me that my eyebrows HAD to be plucked, and she would be the one to do it. I'm still coloring in her mistakes to this day.

When I was so eager to fit in that I followed, rather inaccurately, every possible trend.  From Jincos to imitating Cher from clueless to overalls to skorts.

When my boyfriend asked me to follow him to college... but not the prestigious one he was attending, the lesser accredited one next door. This led me to study Spanish with him so we could teach it to our children. Needless to say we broke up and he married someone from his college and I have no one to talk Spanish to. dios mio.

When I was in a dazed blackout on my 21st birthday but everyone wanted me to do one more shot.  than another.  than another.  And I woke up with 18 tally marks up my arm.  So naturally my friends insisted we make up for those missing 3 at 8 AM. But everyone came out for my birthday, I can't really say no.. even if I have thrown up in the bathroom twice.

 I tried to do the vegetarian thing, but couldn't make it stick.  Not because I wanted meat, but because I felt rude turning down meatball after burger after hotdog.

Doing the favor and picking up that extra waitressing shift on Friday night even though I've had concert tickets for the past three months. And knowing that the bitch whose shift I covered will never return the favor.

My college roommate borrowing (stealing) my new pumps only to stretch them out with her big feet.  Sure, I don't mind! why don't you just keep em now, they fit you better!

When I was visiting Morocco and the waiter insisted I try the whole fish with the eyes, scales and tail still on, even though I had already brought enough cereal bars to make it through the trip. This experience left me with parasites in my stomach and intestines for the next 4 months.

When my boyfriend took home a puppy I could neither afford nor had time to raise.  Then when he suggested I keep her in bed with me even though I was sure crate training was the way to go.  My apartment is now a chewed up dog wasteland.

That moment at a cookout when your cousin -- or worse your boyfriend's cousin -- asks you to hold their 8 week old baby while they grab a plate of food.  I don't even like children that much, but i despise holding babies.  Yet, I always reply "Me? Of course I don't mind!" 3 hours of crying and wet diapers later, and the baby has spit up all over the shirt my roommate has already shrunk aanyways and pulled out a solid chunk of my hair out.

Working late, doing my bosses errands ...doing my assistants errands, finishing my coworkers responsibilities.  Sitting in the squeaky chair, never choosing the music station, not saying anything when someone eats my lunch from the fridge.. again.

Going to my friends plays, recitals, premiers, hell even kareoke performances, even though I want to go to the gym or do laundry or I dont know anything besides watching their horrific renditions of whitney houston's my heart will go on.

My boyfriends mother is italian.  I've gained 10 pounds since we started dating. Sure I'll have another slice of lasagna, plate of riggatoni, slice of pizza, glass of wine, tiramisu, etc. etc. etc... 10 pounds.

On that note.  I always take whatever the waiter suggests. which is always the most expensive thing on the menu.  and usually the most fattening.  You know they're not going to suggest the house salad even if it is exquisite.

On the way to a house party, "hey Chels, will you pick up a few bottles of alcohol, I didn't have time to grab anything?"  What I'm really thinking: "No problem, my bank accounts negative and I know you'd never pay me back - but 'of course!'" What I say, 'Of course, do you need snacks too?!'

While I'm following a group of friends moving towards the stage at a concert and a complete stranger asks, "hey will you snap a photo of us?"  then, "Can you just do one more"  then their other friend finally notices theres a photo opp and wants to get in, "omg sooo sorry just one more?".  Me, of course! No problem!  I spend the rest of my favorite band's performance searching the crowd for my friends.  Only to find them and have the girl taking their photo not snap one more when I walk up and want to get in.  Go figure.

There's only one more left.  One more what you say?  Well it could -- and has been -- anything.  There's one more bite of dessert, one more seat in the car, one more aspirin, one more open parking spot, one more gift bag, one more roll of toilet paper for God's sake!  And everytime there's only one more, there's always that devilishly sweet girl asking you don't mind do you?  Me? Of course not - it's all yours!

I have to wake up early to get ready for a big meeting, but my boyfriend doesn't fall back asleep well.  I show up late with a stain on my shirt since I got dressed in the dark, using my phone as the only illumination on my closet.

When someone cat calls or says hey sexy and I feel compelled to say hi back.  Then they follow me and harass me for the next two blocks while I try to smile and laugh it off.

When the puppy I never wanted in the first plays begs. for anything.  "okay well, i guess my last bite of prime rib and a sliver of apple pie wont hurt" "you don't want to be left at home? okay, I guess I can skip the lunch I've been looking forward to all week with my friends"

When I go in to get my laptop fixed and i walk out with a brand new laptop ..and an upgraded iphone.

Or the age old: "Do you mind spotting me? I forgot my wallet again?" Of course not!

"i know you ordered the filet, but i totally messed up putting in the computer and got you a ribeye instead" ...i don't eat meat off bones... "oh not a problem! I'm easy!"   The ribs cost 20 dollars more.

When someone hands me their jacket at an event, assuming I work there.  Oh no problem, I'll check this for you.

When I'm walking through the mall and buy something from each one the kiosks selling things even my great aunt wouldn't be fooled to purchase from the infomercial channel.

Worse is when a street team asks you for a second of time to talk about gay rights, or feeding the hungry or saving the whales, and you end up signing up to have a monthly withdrawal to their cause.

When I lead on every single unattractive loner that tries some tacky pick up line on me. I say I have a boyfriend and that we're really happy - hell he's even at the table right over there.  but that doesn't stop me from pity laughing at their jokes, nodding at their stories and giving them my number if they ask. I'm the first person thats engaged them and smiled since they moved to LA, you think they'll let me go?  Then I feel too bad NOT to reply to the texts.  Followed by feeling too bad not to tell him where I am going out that night.  Rounding out at unable to tell him off for stalking me.

When I see a bum and throw him a dollar.  but there's always another.  then another then another.  and then I don't have any money to pay for my subway ride home.

Pushy Jewish women.  You have to meet my son!  He has a real hard time interacting with females, mostly on account of having miserable cold sore flareups his whole life, but i think if you got to know him you two would really hit it off.  Aww I'd love to, but I actually have a really serious boyfriend (I did it, mental cheering for saying no!) Oh honey, dont be silly, you're not married - what is your boyfriend one of those abusive types? is he?  Me, No! of course not!!! Her, well good then, I already gave him your number and told him you'd be available this weekend.  it's a date.

When my facebook friends are all foreign men I've never met before because it just seems stuck up to flat out deny someone friendship. Hence the flooding inbox of flag worthy pics, creepy messages and pokes.

When more than one friend ask me to do something tomorrow night, and I say yes to everyone then spend the day fretting over what to do.  Do I let on to the friends that I might not be able to go?  of course not!  I just wait until the last minute and go with whichever friend texted me last.  Needless to say, I've got quite the flake reputation.

Did I mention I'm not really sure I like children? And that I dislike the majority of the little brats i encounter? My boyfriends already convinced me we're having at least four. At. Least. mind you my boyfriend and I aren't even engaged.

This same boyfriend has guilted me into converting to Judaism and getting married in a synagogue, even though hello - i didn't put all that damn altar server hours in for nothing.  Again we're not even engaged.

This list is excruciatingly long, and its just a snapshot of the problems caused by my FOSN.  I fantasize about telling off the guy at the bar, smacking my boyfriend with my running shoe, hollering at the friends who take advantage of me and for once just screaming NO.  But FOSN isn't all bad and even has its perks every once and while.  I've traveled extensively, gone to fabulous parties, stayed out all night, taken on rewarding scholastic endeavors, met some amazing people and am genuinely regarded as an optimistic sweetheart who is up for anything.  Because I'm ready to embrace any adventure, I am afforded more opportunities.  My friends, family, coworkers know that I'm their go to if they need a partner in crime, a date to a premier, or a travel enthusiast to take along on vacation. Honestly, I much rather have a FOSN than it's uglier sister, a FOSYes.  So you ask, do I actually find comfort ..and even joy in my FOSN?  Well, naturally, the answer is.. yes.

Monday, May 6

Le Pain Review

Don't get me wrong.  I enjoy Urth Cafe just as much as the next socialite, but that doesn't mean we should disregard Urth's less crowded (and less pompous) neighbor, Le Pain Quotidien

What to order:  I come here for their bread baskets, which are served with signature raspberry and apricot jams and (drum roll) white chocolate, dark and regular hazelnut spreads.  Other signature dishes include the baked goods (with an asterisk on the chocolate croissant), the tartines and the Mediterranean plate. 

Location: the Beverly Hills location is fine.. but the outdoor seating leads much to be desired if you've ever visited the Melrose location.   At Melrose you feel like you're in a bed and breakfast, sitting on a large wrap around porch it's a perfect spot to relax over a latte. The outback patio offers a little more privacy for someone hoping to coop up with their computer or a good read.  Oh and bring fido.  The outdoor seating is very dog friendly. 

Wednesday, May 1



what a lackluster word if I've ever heard one.

Quitting resonates a sense of failure. that youve given up.

And, well.. maybe I have given up. But not on my life and dreams, I've given up a job that was stifling and suffocating me in order to pursue a creative outlet.

So, I'll keep this post rather short and sweet.  I did not quit.  I simply changed direction and I feel absolutely energized and refreshed by the decision.  I cannot wait to write, act, host, soul search, you name it.. and see where it takes me. And if I crash and burn and come crawling back to agent life with my tail between my legs, then at least I can never say I didn't try.

Maybe this blog will finally have a little less ranting and a little more self discoveries after all. :)

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