2010-12-02 11:25 p.m.

I left LA. Finally.

I loved it there for about two years. Then I started to get friend-sick, which is like home-sick except that I missed my friends back in the Bay Area.

Even after a few years in LA I still didn't have many new, solid friends there. There were some core people, but I knew all them before I moved to Southern California. There weren't many new ones. Most of the new people I met were more networking contacts than actual friends.

And it's not like I didn't try. I went out constantly and met people all the time. But, it was so much harder to turn the relationships into the kinds of friendships I had 400 miles north.

And finding girls to date down there was pretty tough. Here are the three characteristics of women in LA.

1) Girls that were not interested in me at all. (This included the ones for whom I would never be of any interest to, such as Mexican housewives, Chinese shopkeepers, and geriatrics AS WELL AS 98.6% of the girls that I found attractive.)

2) Girls that were only interested in what I could do for their career, aka "climbers." (Actresses, models, singers, makeup artists, musicians, and so on.)

3) Girls that were CRAZY. Alcohol and drug problems, mental disorders, insane jealousy, the usual.

I should mention that many ladies there appear to have more than one from this list. And, I am 100% sure that some of them took extra helpings from choice number three.

Sure, there were some exceptions, but they were RARE, RARE, RARE.

There were other things that bugged me about Los Angeles, but none were really deal-breakers. Sure, the traffic is annoying, but traffic is bad anywhere worth living. (Not everywhere that has bad traffic is a good place to live. But, everywhere that's worth living in has bad traffic.) And, there are a lot of superficial people that drive cars they can't afford and wear gaudy Ed Hardy sequined butthole warmers or whatever. Oh, and people have the shittiest small dogs that bark all the time and they fucking take them everywhere and have special Ed Hardy sequined purses for them.

But, none of those things made LA a bad place for me. I still think it's a great place for me, actually. It's just that I wasn't thriving emotionally and spiritually without my close connections from my old stomping grounds.

So, here I am. Back again. If I wasn't so exhausted from moving all my stuff in and out of boxes and U Haul trucks and trailers and storage spaces for the last week I might almost feel as happy and excited as I am deep inside.

But, right now just feel tired. It's like I lost a fight with a heavyweight boxer with fists made of sleeping pills. My eyelids are shaking under the stress of staying open a moment longer.

So, now it's time to end my day and dream of jamming my body full of cookies, brownies, custards, and pie. Who know? Maybe in the morning those dreams might become a reality.


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