I am now back in San Francisco, crashing with my cousin for one more night before I fly back to LA. After ten days of roaming San Francisco and flittering around Tahoe with friends from home, I am ready to get back .

My sojourn from Hollywood has been somewhat exhausting. When I am in the city, part of me recognizes that my being there is absurd, but another part of me looks around and every lifestyle decision that I am making is reinforced by everyone I meet. All my friends have degrees but are working for nothing, living with money they don't have, counting on a break in the future.

Detached from this culture, "I'm unemployed and sleeping on a mattress in Hollywood" doesn't sound so acceptable. In SF, my cousin qualified my brief explanation to her friends with "because she graduated from college early and her parents are letting her freeload for a couple months on the left coast." It sounds more real--but so much less impressive--when put that way.

Anyway, at the wedding I didn't have lovely family members to tell people how it really is, so I had to improvise--and fabricate, though just enough so people would like me.



Interior, reception hall. ATTRACTIVE ASPIRING ACTOR and OUR PROTAGONIST are engaged in conversation.

"So you are acting in New York? That's great. Well , I am in LA, working for a production company."
"Oh, wow, that is awesome. Do you read a lot of scripts?"
"Er, some. No, yes, lots. Lots and lots. Loads. There's a lot of crap out there. But when you come across a good one--"
"Have you?"
"No."
"Oh."
"You know, I have a LOT of friends at talent agencies, so, uh, when you're ready, forward me your headshots and I'll pass them on. You'll be the next Tom Hanks, no problem."

CUT TO: LATER THAT DAY
OUR PROTAGONIST is being quizzed by a DISTINGUISHED ADULT-TYPE PERSON

"So why did you leave your wonderful, steady life back home full of friends and stability, etc. to move to Los Angeles?"
"Well, I am a writer, so I am spending some time in LA feeling out the business to see if screenwriting is something I want to pursue."
"So you're writing screenplays."
"Not exactly."
"Oh."
"But I am working at a literary management company, reading scripts."
"And that pays?"
"Er, no. But I am doing a lot of freelance work."
"Really. Where?"
"Some magazines... and some newspapers...and stuff like that."
"Which papers? That sounds great."
"Oh, look! Cake! Lovely talking to you. Bye."

CUT TO: OUR PROTAGONIST being quizzed by ANOTHER ADULT-TYPE PERSON

"So I hear you are in LA."
"Yes, indeed. I have an internship where I answer the phone for nine hours a day. I have no income and am apparently not qualified to sell sweatshop-made clothes to preteen girls with cellphones and glitter mascara. I am literally living off of my credit card and am now in debt for no reason except that it seemed fun to move across the country."
"So it's working out? You're happy?"
"Yes. Fantastic. Best thing I've ever done."

Scene.