Nights

up top, bone marrow at black hogg (photo credit kb; instagram credit kb) 

down low: pho ga at zoia (photo credit kb; instagram credit kb)

So I tried to be normal tonight and go meet my new friend Marie for dinner and have a nice normal time. And, well, we did. It was normal. And awesome. She is a hugely warmly embracing person with pretty blue eyes and a want for new growth within her social life. I met her at my National Women in Construction meeting last week, and she's an attorney in construction law, and we will be great friends. We had a super nice time with brussel sprouts hash, bone marrow, wine and some mushroom concoction that was incredible, all at Black Hogg in Silver Lake.

So I feel like I'm living in some bad indie film these days. I do, bad. It's like a regular serious every day occurrence. Right now for instance I just woke from a 3 hour awesome slumber that should have been a full night's rest to feeling the freezing A/C in my apartment and wanting to warm some leftover Pho (which I have not done) to thoughts of Greg's visit to thoughts of my texts with Neal earlier before I met Marie to thoughts of WOW HOW IS EVERYTHING SO DISTANT from me. Everything. My friends, family, emotions, loves, everything. Yet I've come so far as to add Los Angeles and its intricacies to my repertoire.

But it's seriously a trial. I mean. I do love LA. I've made that abundantly clear here. I love the sunshine, I love the friendliness of the people, I love the ease at which living in Los Angeles has provided me. I do love LA.

But it's a bad indie movie. I take a taxi to Dodger Stadium in the morning and fumble around in my purse to find 14 dollars to pay the guy. I jump out at the fence at the main gate and walk up to my construction trailer only to enter into hostility there, since those guys find me to be...I don't know. They aren't like my awesome guys back in New York who actually cared about me, like a sister. These guys are just mean spirited.

Then I sit and hate my life, all day, wanting so badly to have a new construction job to go to versus closing out this strange one. Filtering RFI's. Looking at close out spread sheets. Yuck.

And I peer at my email, waiting to hear from Greg, and perpetually don't.

And I suffer from not having a car syndrome, which means lunch is whether I grabbed a packaged sandwich in the morning or not, or do I want to walk for tacos for lunch, or do I skip lunch. Normally, I skip.

Which means I'm losing a ton of weight, which means friends and family (if and when they see me, if at all) notice and ask about it.

I haven't had my hair cut in oh, years, so it's long and stringy and hippy. And I hate taking care of it day after day. I shampoo it and it smells nice when I leave the apartment but it's a pain.

What else? I'm just...I don't want this fucking isolation anymore. I don't want to wake up at 4 in the morning and feel so alone.

Bad indie film. Walking around like a fucking zero. Strange Muse song in my head. Feeling dizzy over figuring out who I can count on. Blah. Etc.

So yeah.
Bad indie film.
Me wandering East LA like a silent someone.