Los Angeles: Week One

Holding a fritter at a v grammable mural. Headset on.

Puhg came with me on a practice drive to Paramount. I am intimidated by these old highways, but there is no other option. Billboard: there is no other option. I'm drinking a kale smoothie from my new grocery in the sunshine unlocking my loaned Mercedes Benz. Romanian spread with A Jar, specifically a deep fried cheese ball and thick tomato porridge.

Traffic increases every ten minutes and I can't stop replaying the worst case scenarios. Can't find the parking lot right in front of me, but then I am eight minutes early. My first Hollywood space is an empty table with a granola bar wrapper on it, but the lot does feel magical. Kind of like Disney. No one turns on the lights all day. I meet AP. It feels unreal. She is a live human being shaking my hand and welcoming me. I have to sit down and feel the pink drain from my face. And then she is my boss and that's that. I sit at the fountain tense. I drive tense. I eat Thai food tense. I feel the tenseness in my every inch until I fall asleep.

Cowsk wears my gift on the second day. She leaves early and I futz with my new responsibilities. I am not a technical or detail-oriented person, so I learn. (I try to learn.) I'm home for date night. I put on sweatshorts, take off my bra, and we walk to a cozy noodle shop. I order the pot pie, which will take 45 minutes, and I soak in every little minute with my guy. I cannot get over him lately. So good and funny with the best blue eyes I've ever encountered.

4 AM. I'm up. I arrive too early. I have to find the roof. I have to find the van. I have to find the catering. I have to bring Cowsk a breakfast burrito. I had eaten cashews in the car. I was an idiot. I will be completely surrounded by a million foods for the next two months. I didn't know. AP says she likes my raincoat and gives me a huge First Day Hug. I had thought sets would be more organized, but suddenly I'm holding a printer, climbing stairs, searching for a plug. Everyone is friendly. I didn't expect that, and I am relieved. "Am I allowed to...?" "Should I...?" These are my most usual questions. I eat two donuts--a buttermilk bar and a regular ol chocolate. I watch Cowsk work, noting bits and keeping integrity. It is hard not to fangirl over someone you interact with all day. I like the stand-ins. It is raining and I have to get up at 4 again. I am sad and stressed picking Puhg up from a bar. I don't want him to leave. I don't want to drive. I miss my students. I am on a dream movie. I probably need to sleep.

I cry on my way out the door because it's goodbye to Puhg. He will fly away while I start a new location. Today we have a special guest among us, and her time is valuable. I run through cords and hair bags making pages and falling down to my knees when She starts writing to transcribe the improv. I sit in the sound editor's seat watching playback. I have a whiz call me to teach me in the hot sun over the phone while I'm half on headset and MR sings about Cheeze-Its at the craft table. The producer asks me for a joke for AG I preemptively printed, and I sigh a proud sigh. After we wrap, drive to Koreatown, don't even care if I have to pay for the garage. Redbean soft serve in a fish cone. My parking was validated.

Friday prize.

Brene Brown TED Talks as I run. I've never looked at Google Maps so much in my life. I go for a walk and accidentally climb a mountain. One of my girls is on the phone with boy drama. I drive an hour to brunch with Yosh and his finance. I have a ridiculous pile of dessert waffles. All my meals are $20 or free. We've pumped each other up in the middle of the night via text for five years and now we do it in the city of angels. I am listening to that Red Hot Chili Peppers song. Don't @ me. A welcome diversion, a Japan Abroad reunion. I love these three boys. We sit outside and gossip about everyone we've known and laugh about streaking at a temple and discuss where we're at now with the whole spirituality thing.

Sunday I do HIIT while dogs bark at me from behind a fence. They never let up. I go to church with my first college roommate. We used to have a David Beckham magazine ad hanging above our desks and she wanted to be a makeup artist and I wanted to be a writer. I tell myself I will write all afternoon but I have to lay down. I can't not lay down. I clean my mess I watch a Younger I eat broccoli I revise my musical for three hours and sleep.

I dream of moldy cheese, which a psychology website tells me I'm afraid of being awkward.