Category Archives: on Los Angeles

Mr. WTF.

Last Saturday, I was trying to enjoy a lovely Saturday afternoon in the park on my own. (By the way, I really enjoy alone time.)

I was perched at a park bench, reading a magazine, basking in the 72 and perfect sunny day when I heard:


I looked up to see some European man and I smiled politely even though I had no idea who he was.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!”  he exclaimed. “I thought you were my friend who I just had lunch! I was thinking, what is she doing here when I just saw her 10 minutes ago?”

“Oh, that’s a funny coincidence,” I said and turned back to my magazine.

“It’s so weird. You look exactly like her!” he said.

“Ok,” I said.

“So, what are you doing here?” he asked.

“Just enjoying the sunny day. Reading in the park,” I answered.

“Ahh. So what do you do in LA? Are you a model? Or an actress?” he asked. At which point, I gave up trying to do polite conversation with him. I replied, “Um no, definitely not. I work in advertising.” And I blatantly dug my nose back in the magazine.

“What sort of advertising? Like in that magazine you’re reading?” he inquired on.

“No,” I said. “Online.” Then I went silent and continued trying to read.

He paused for a moment and then said, “Ok, well do you want to ask any questions about me?”

I put down the magazine, did my best to smile as politely as possible, and said, “No, not really. Honestly, I was just trying to sit here and read and enjoy the day. It’s been really nice talking to you and I hope that you have a good day!”  To emphasize my point, I picked the magazine up and continued reading.

“I’m Israeli. Do you want to know anything else?” he prattled on.

“No, honestly, I’ve appreciated talking to you but I’m done talking.”

“Don’t you want to make new friends in LA? I’m pretty new to LA,” he said.

“At this point, no, I do not want to be your friend. It’s been lovely talking to you. Have a nice day,” I said.

“I cannot believe you’re being so disrespectful to me!” he practically yelled. “Especially since you’re Jewish!”

I put down the magazine. “I’m not Jewish!” (FACT)

“Now you’re just lying to me. You’re being a rude and disrespectful liar!” he shouted. I just shrugged and said I wasn’t lying (which is true; I am most definitely not Jewish!). He finally stalked off at that point, muttering about how rude I was and what a liar I was.

I have no words except …WTF.

Friday Favorites.

In the spirit of my previous post, Happy Things, I’m going to do my best to post the brightest and happiest things I spy across the Interwebs weekly. I give you Friday Favorites.

Palm trees. Sunset.


Summer is around the corner. J.Crew beach cover-up.


San Diego (my old stomping grounds) map art.

Artwork: Orange & Park
Artwork: Orange & Park


Question: Why do so many guys on post shirtless pictures?


Ladies in other parts of the US – is this limited to only Southern California? Because they at least have a reason to be posing and running around shirtless most months of the year? It seems to be a rampant trend here in LA.

Or maybe they have all been watching too much of The Bachelor this season and Sean Lowe is their inspiration.


The End of Gentility.

I gotta ask – when did everyone become such a jerk?


Mr. Terrible was bad enough. I’m still kicking myself for not having the balls to get up and leave the table in the middle of the world’s rudest date.

Two weeks ago, I found myself one drink in at The Charleston in Santa Monica, a bar I tend to like but unfortunately it has started to attract the likes of drunk younger 20somethings who can’t afford the cover at the Wilshire bar next door.

My friend D. and I were sitting at the bar comfortably having drinks when suddenly over the course of 20 minutes, the capacity of the bar tripled and we were sandwiched in our seats surrounded by drunk douchebags and douchebaguettes (a term I recently learned and love – it means female douchebag!). Now, I’m willing to admit fault that I should have given up and gotten out of my seat sooner, but D. and I were trying to have a conversation. As we talked and finished our drinks, some wasted douchebag kept pushing his crotch into my back as he fought to get the bartender’s attention to order a drink. Repeatedly, he kept shoving into me over the course of several minutes, until I lost my cool.

I stood up and asked him to get out of my personal space. He snapped back, “This place is f–king crowded, what the f–k do you want me to do about it?” We got in each others’ faces for a moment until I backed off and D. dragged me to the dance floor.

So, what happened? Was I — the sober one — at fault for losing it over being shoved into by someone’s crotch repeatedly? Once upon a time, I was that drunk 22 year old. But I’d like to think I never shoved into anyone’s personal space with my crotch. Should I have cut him more slack for acting his age?

Almost fights in bars aside, I’ve noticed a general lack in manners and gentility in this city. Most mornings on my commute (in my car), someone yells and honks at someone from their cars and/or at pedestrians. People in the entertainment industry won’t talk to me at parties because I’m not in their industry and therefore cannot further their career in any way. No one smiles at each other here when I walk around my neighborhood or office. This could be the Midwesterner in me that’s expecting too much out of people, but I’ve encountered much more friendly people in even New York.

That movie Crash got that commentary right about LA – the only interactions strangers have here is when they literally crash into each other. Or almost get into bar fights over invasion of personal space.

Happy 2-Year LAnniversary to Me.

Two years ago today, I officially moved back to LA from San Diego for a new job. Despite the bad dates, crazy Los Angelenos, and traffic, I’ve never looked back. Happy 2-Year LAnniversary to Me!

And of course, Happy that other holiday today as well to all the singles, marrieds, and somewhere-in-betweens out there. I hope you have a fabulous day!



Image: sixthandmain / etsy
Image: sixthandmain / etsy