LIFE...MINE

So, here we go. Ok, so I HAVE to get this typed out. I just lit a candle in my studio in a Hollywood Hills house, with a match book that says where I work in Beverly Hills. It just dawned on me how crazy, lucky and out of whack my life is, as I am trying my hardest to get it to where I want it. Well, my friends, it evidently ain't up to me.

So to just tip the iceberg, a few months ago I was trying to find an apartment in Santa Monica, which is ridiculous on the cash part. I STILL am...don't you worry. Anyway, So I start to save massive amounts of money. I had it. So here is why.

1. Dental. I had needed a root canal and crown, then I was flossing, and a filling popped out. Now I had to go.

2. Car. My tags. I needed to renew my registration. And well, take care of what my momma gave me and thank God for what I have.

3. New place to live.

So, I go to the dentist, and try to get a filling put back in. He says, "Eh, I don't want to. It's gonna have to be replaced. Your insurance changed." (Beverly Hills dentist only want money...not to help) ALL I NEED is a replacement filling to live. But NO. I walked out laughing.

Now, we get to the car part...&&^^&*(*&^$%$^%#$!!!!!!!!!!!! Anyway, so I go and TRY to get my shite taken care of. They say I need to go to another place to get it checked for smog. I did. It failed 50 bucks later. So I go BACK to them to fix it. They say come in on Monday next week. I bring it in. AND this is what I heard when I took my key off the chain to leave it with a trustworthy auto wizard..."Man, I don't even want to mess with it. There's no telling what is causing the problem. It's really confusing." QUOTE UN-FU**ING QUOTE. So, I laughed and went to work asking my Hispanic friends, who ROCK, if they knew anyone. NOTHING. I don't speak Spanish. So now I asked some co-workers if they knew of anyone. I got answers. NOW we are getting somewhere. Calls are being made at this moment. Stand by...

NOW, today, on my day off from a 50 hour work week, which I am lucky to have and proud to say these days, I go to the DMV. I show up, give her my story, my paper work, WILLING to pay whatever, only to hear this..."You're better off just dodgin' the PO-lice". SSSSSSSSSSSSsooooo....off to the beach I went. Smirk, dazed eyes and expired tags.

I saved all this money for people who want money from people to NOT except it?? WOW. OK, well, here we go.

AAAAAAAAAAAND this is a great selling point...for THIS guy to move to Santa Monica...
I get home after a hard days work. Open the gate, and there are still dudes with no shirts in the garage working. It's been a week if that SHIT for me to come home to. THEN, I meet my new neighbor, who is in a Superman T-shirt, a fake cowboy hat singing at the top of his lungs in a horrible death threatening voice of some song. So, I just get my running outfit on. (shorts and a T-shirt) So I go for a GREAT night run in the Hollywood Hills. I get back, and there is SOMETHING...a THING. As I open the gate I hear, "who are you"? I answer, "I live here, what are you?" And IT, with it's long manly fake horse hair, has a f**king COOKIE MONSTER T-SHIRT on. IT tries to shake my hand, and I hit IT'S hand with my keys. I then quickly scatter to my studio.

SANTA MONICAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!

It was so hot in L.A. I went to the beach to run. I can't WAIT to move there. But I also can't ignore where I was a year ago, and ignore where I would place myself when I moved here. BACK to the matches. I work on a rooftop pool in Beverly Hills, and am living at the TOP of the Hollywood Hills, typing this. Yes, life is a bitch. (Mine? Well, it's a life on Mars I think, and I'd be bored if it was anything else...I think. All I know is that the winds blew those sweet ocean air breezes my way, and I will call that place home very soon.)

"No matter where you are, there is always an up. If not, look right"