You need to get your own man...

Since I am currently a STRUGGLING Hollywood socialite/scenester (read: next big thing) the financial strains of my girl-about-town lifestyle demand I share my decently-sized 1 bedroom apartment with a roommate. Cie la vie...I am never home. Recently however, some privacy infringement issues have arisen. The other night my roommate "spilled milk" on some of my things. A. Who drinks milk? B. Why was she dangling it over my possessions? Regardless, she told me so I could clean it off. When I went into the bathroom she started with the "I hope I didn't ruin anything!" then "I didn't want to open it" and the "did you have anything valuable in there?" a barrage of apologetic snips culminated with "I hope there's nothing electronic in there" LIGHTBULB - at this point it became glaringly obvious that she had in fact opened the case which housed my "going away present". I told her it was fine if she opened it (not that it was...more to fascilitate her admission of guilt) but she persisted in her denial. I think she was a little freaked out b/c she left w/o saying anything and didn't come back for an hour. I think she just didn't want to talk about it...geez, I thought I was a prude!

There are certain things in life that you do not want to hear from your "old enough to be your dad" boss... one of which I heard this morning. Slumped over my desk, exhausted from my nightly drinking, my boss bounces over and says "Hey, you were in my dream last night...and you said something really funny...I can't remember it...hmm, what did you say...why can't I remember?" Really, let it go, I do not appreciate being creeped out before 11am... thankfully I hadn't had too much to drink the night before, so I could feign ambivalence (as opposed to vomiting on the carpet... which incidently, his cat has already done today). I guess working in an office with all guys forces you to make some small concessions, especially if said guy writes your check.

Now that I'm in LA, most of you don't get to hear my daily drama/ranting - we'll see how long I keep up with it this time.

I am constantly in my car now, so I finally broke down and got one of those cheesy hands-free sets. Right...having a hunk of plastic in your ear - not so comfortable. So I'm back to my old phone in right hand, cigarette in left, knee on wheel driving technique (which I have perfected by now). I have noticed however that other drivers are sometimes jealous of my amazing ability to multitask, lashing out by screaming "you need 3 hands!" While I was not stung by the comment, I felt compelled (as a good Samaritan) to offer road rage soccer mom a bit of my own advice - "you need to lose 30 pounds, and tell your husband to stop calling me!" Someone had to be the bigger person.

The past week has been pretty interesting since I've had quite a few family members in town. Let's just say, no one drinks like my family! Alena, Maya, Jen and I hit up a bar on Sat. night, eventually inviting a number of people back to my apt. for an afterparty. I mixed drinks, put on some music, and made out with a few of the boys - as was my duty as hostess. All in all I think everyone had a good time...I'm sure the fact that I've lost my voice is entirely due to vocal strain, rather than some saliva-transmitted viral infection.