To Live in LA...

Indeed, I am alive and well in the city of Los Angeles, County Los Angeles, State of California, Country of the United States, the Northern Hemisphere, The Earth, The Universe and the Galaxy. After encouragement from readers, I've decided to chronicle my life as a non-productive member of society PLUS I'm absolutely certain most of you have been dying for a teensy break from the corporate office jobs, the kids' gymboree and your own hectic lives. I've decided it's up to me to provide some entertainment. I'll try to briefly bring you up to date.

When I last left you, I was on my last days in Bali. After being gone for a month, I was ready to come home. After being home for five months, I'm ready to go away again. My last days at Disney were wonderful. My department really sent me out with a bang and I was overwhelmed by everyone's affection as well as the x-rated tribute poster Jay & Tracy created for me. For those of you who saw the "King Arthur" posters, superimposed over Keira Knightley's face was mine complete with an enhanced bust line that literally pops out of that belt costume! The funny thing was that I didn't even notice it until one of my friends pointed it out to me when he saw it displayed in my home. I guess I've always considered myself ample.

December and January brought a new romance in and out of my life with the same gale force winds we were experiencing in Southern California. Since I have a lot of time on my hands, I spent most February trying to find the answers, first by travelling to Vegas to visit LeeAnn and then to Houston, Texas to see Miss Lupe and her husband John. Unfortunately, I was so far gone in my head of heartbreak that just seeing the Palms Casino where the cowboy/roadie/metrosexual got his last tatoo threw me back a few paces, so off to Houston, where I was sure the multitude of cowboys walking around the streets would give my sanity a run for it's money. However, Lupe, being the strong, insightful woman she is, had armed me with "He's Just Not That Into You" earlier in the year and miraculously, I had tossed it into my carry-on. By the time my two hour Denver layover was over, I was cured.

I am happy to report, on the eve of the Ides of March, that I am feeling much better. In fact, I am completely over him and feel that our brief romance (yes, five weeks long!) was right to end. Of course there are times when I miss his tattoos, the sexy piercing in his back, his white cowboy hat, the monster truck and ipod full of metal music, but everything happens for a reason and distractions, no matter how cute they are, are just that. Distracting. Yes, I had reverted to my 22 year old East Village Drama Queen Self, but that's what happens when you don't have b-roll and celebrity egos to fill up your day with.

P.S. Cowboys don't hoof it around idly in Houston. I didn't see a-one.