Dispatches from the City of Angels
I'm a writer and humorist living in and writing about Los Angeles. You can catch my novel LOSING CLEMENTINE out March 6 from William Morrow. In the meantime, feel free to poke around. Over at my website you can find even more blog entries than I could fit here, as well as a few other ramblings. Enjoy and come back often.
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Favorite Quotes:
"Taint what a horse looks like, it’s what a horse be." - A Hat Full of Sky by Terry Pratchett
"Trying to take it easy after you've finished a manuscript is like trying to take it easy when you have a grease fire on a kitchen stove." - Jan Burke
"Put on your big girl panties, and deal with it." - Mom
"How you do anything is how you do everything."
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Old Guy on the Block
I'm sitting in coach on a very bumpy flight between Memphis and Los Angeles, and a New Kid on the Block just walked past me down the aisle.
New Kids on the Block as in '80s boy band phenomena. I cut this guy's face out of Teen Beat magazine, wore it on t-shirts, plastered my bedroom walls with it. I had all the albums including the Christmas one. I thought he was dreamy. Now he's flying coach and is on his way to the telephone booth-sized bathroom to take a whiz into the water-less toilet.
Reality has intruded on my childhood fan crush.
He's still wearing the de rigeur '80s boy band black hat, and if he offered to buy you a drink in the airport lounge, you'd probably make up a story involving lesbianism, a father in the mob and preparing for the nunnery. He's also short.
Okay, okay. I'm sure he's very nice.* Probably sends orphans to summer camp and adopts three-legged, snaggle-tooth puppies. But I've got a four hour, over-booked flight in front of me. The guy on my right smells like bar-b-qued pork. The guy on my left is forcing his seat-mate to watch pyramid scheme recruiting videos on his laptop, and all I have to get through it is a pack of Fig Newtons and half a bottle of flat Diet Dr Pepper. There's only so much a girl can take.
Take away my free peanuts, my leg room, my disposable pillow if you must. But for the love of God, leave my childhood fantasies alone.
*Update: I just had to ask him to move so I could get to the luggage carousel, and he IS very nice.
New Kids on the Block as in '80s boy band phenomena. I cut this guy's face out of Teen Beat magazine, wore it on t-shirts, plastered my bedroom walls with it. I had all the albums including the Christmas one. I thought he was dreamy. Now he's flying coach and is on his way to the telephone booth-sized bathroom to take a whiz into the water-less toilet.
Reality has intruded on my childhood fan crush.
He's still wearing the de rigeur '80s boy band black hat, and if he offered to buy you a drink in the airport lounge, you'd probably make up a story involving lesbianism, a father in the mob and preparing for the nunnery. He's also short.
Okay, okay. I'm sure he's very nice.* Probably sends orphans to summer camp and adopts three-legged, snaggle-tooth puppies. But I've got a four hour, over-booked flight in front of me. The guy on my right smells like bar-b-qued pork. The guy on my left is forcing his seat-mate to watch pyramid scheme recruiting videos on his laptop, and all I have to get through it is a pack of Fig Newtons and half a bottle of flat Diet Dr Pepper. There's only so much a girl can take.
Take away my free peanuts, my leg room, my disposable pillow if you must. But for the love of God, leave my childhood fantasies alone.
*Update: I just had to ask him to move so I could get to the luggage carousel, and he IS very nice.
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