lundi 7 mars 2005

Maybe it's a sign.

Last week was a very exhausting one. Pity my liver; I daresay I was out drinking every single night. No real reason in particular, most of the time. Just out. Drinking. Lots. Not doing schoolwork. I did see Watch Boy one night, and I am continually fascinated by the way that he doesn't follow the standard male-female progression of dialogue. In other words, you do not say to a girl with whom you're just sleeping that you two should go away to the Caribbean together. No, because that's just weird given that you've seen each other perhaps 5 times, and remember, You Two Aren't Even Dating In The First Place. It seems as though we've magically jumped to month six of a relationship, where it's okay to invite a girl over while you're doing laundry, and ask her for $1.75 in quarters because you don't have any. But the funny thing is, we're not dating, we're not in a situation that can be termed as anything other than a liaison, which is just a pretty way of saying booty call. To say I'm confused doesn't even begin to describe matters. What happened to good ol' plain and simple hookups, the ones where you just sleep together and part ways without discussions of postmodernism in literature and past dating history?

But that's not the big news. No, not at all. Darlings, darlings, you don't understand how excited I am.

Because apparently, I MIGHT BE RETURNING TO LA.

Do you not get it? Wasn't the link enough for you? Do you need me to spell it out?

MY LAZY VERY-PROCRASTINATORY ASS GOT ACCEPTED INTO A PhD PROGRAM.

That's right, I'll officially be a doctor in many-years time. Perhaps not a medical one, but hey, can I wear my white coat anyway?

Perhaps the fates are telling me that it's high time I returned to the glorious warmth that is Los Angeles. Who knows what I'd do with my lovely fur coat, but OH MY GOD I COULD GO BACK TO WEARING FLIPFLOPS THE MAJORITY OF THE TIME AND I WOULD NEVER HAVE TO SHOVEL OUT MY CAR AGAIN!

Incidentally, do we want to know the bitter irony of the situation? The primary reason, or so he claimed, that fuckhead broke up with me is that he was all, I don't know where I'm going to be next year. He was applying to clerkships all over the country, and seriously, I'd have happily followed him anywhere, even if it were Montana. Me in Montana. Try to picture it. It's really funny. And apparently it wasn't fair that I'd have to sacrifice myself, even if I didn't perceive it as such, as I saw it as an interesting experience, having to live somewhere I never would have chosen. Anyhow, someone didn't get his clerkship (no, I felt no wicked glee at having had found that out), and he'll be in LA next year working. Odds are high that I'll accept this PhD spot. And there we'll be, in Los Angeles, together but separate. Did I mention that I'd be working with his mother's best friend from her doctorate years? Oh yes, we'll always be in each others' lives, even if it's just super-tangentially.

But enough of stupid fuckhead. Let's go over the perks to returning to LA (because if I get into a school on the East coast, I'm going to have a really damn hard time deciding where to go, because for all my complaining, I do like it here and almost all of my friends are here):
-I can finally join the Junior League (yes, I can join it anywhere, but I want to join it with friends who are at home)
-I can wear flipflops almost all of the time
-I won't have to consciously diet, since being in the sun makes me not hungry (not that I really do diet, unless you call eating everything you love a diet)
-I will resume having a year-round tan
-People in LA are prettier to look at
-Craigslist personals are so much funnier in LA
-Beaches
-NO FUCKING SNOW
-People know how to drive
-Parking is abundant
-Good shopping
-No humidity
-There are no evil bloodsucking monsters (read: mosquitos) who will bite the everlasting hell out of me and leave me with gross red welts for weeks (so that only happens when I'm in the South or Midwest and not really in the Northeast. It still counts though)
-Cute little fluffy dogs are everywhere
Give me time, I'm sure I can come up with further advantages to living in LA again.