Ima Read That B*tch

Hola Amigos!  Happy Halloween.

Family, you may not want to read this.  Friends, this is a long one…

I’ve had one of the best/craziest weeks of my life so I thought I’d share some personal bidness. Cool?  Cool.

A quick timeline of my life since December 2013:

December 2013, my fiance and I decide we may be the worst couple of all time and break up.  X-mas is an awkward time to break up to say the least.  We kept it quiet until after the holidays mostly because I didn’t want to deal with the Spanish Inquisition from the peanut gallery.

I was fine with the breakup but was kind of effed because I didn’t have a full time job as we were planning on moving to Japan for his job in the Spring.  Things were awesome.  No job. No Money  No place to live, etc.

Anyhoo, usually I move in with my sis after a breakup (she’s a rescuer and loves to help me when I’m in a bind, but more on that later), but she was living with her boyfriend who was recently divorced with 2 kids so I had to find another alternative.  (If you know my sister, you know that her and kids don’t mix.)

My sis called her buddy who has a farm in Sandy, Oregon (right outside of Portland) and asked if I could stay on the farm for a while so I can get my shit together.  I figured it would be perfect. I could go to Oregon, live on a farm and use this crazy time to right the next great American Novel and my favorite girl from college lives in Portland, so it’ll be fine.

Well, after the cloudy weather and the cold, I was over it in 2 weeks.  I watched a lot of movies though (which I consider reasearch vs just being a sloth. 🙂

After that I stayed with a friend in Temecula, CA for a couple of days and something about that didn’t feel right either.

So I got up one morning and drove straight to my Mama’s house.  It’s amazing what pounding coffee and singing ridiculously loud to the radio can do to keep you awake for a 20 hour drive.

My mom is the best.  She let’s me lay around and watch TV and she’ll bring me food when I didn’t want to leave the house for a week.  I’m kind of proud of myself that I didn’t leave the house for a week.  In my defense, it was also January in Dallas so it was cold as balls. (In case you haven’t noticed, SoCal is about the coldest climate I can handle.  I prefer tropical climates, Costa Rica being my ideal.)

So after laying around my ma’s house and going to therapy because everyone claimed I needed it (I’ve thought therapy is bullshit ever since my ma made me go in 6th grade cause she caught me smoking  cigarettes).  Sorry ma, but I will always have a rebellious streak and no kook with a BS degree is gonna change me.

I know my rebellious streak doesn’t always work out in my favor.  I’m currently in the process of getting my tramp stamp removed.  The only reason I got the tattoo (in Venice Beach at age 19) was because my boyfriend at the time didn’t want me to.  Clearly I don’t like when bitches try to control me. So that one backfired, but it’s all good.  I’m proud of my mistakes.

So after a couple months of feeling like I had no purpose in life, I got off my ass and got a job as a personal trainer.  If you know me at all, this is like a WTF moment.  I hate the gym and working out and eating healthy (If you want to know my secret for staying skinny, read the chapter called the Hot New Anti-Diet Craze diet in my book.)

Anyhoo, 1 week after I finished training I hated my job (shocking) and wanted to gouge my eyes out with a pencil when my sis kept asking me to come back to San Diego and help her with her bidness.  She and her boyfriend had broken up at this point.  She has a pattern of ditching me when she has a boyfriend and then wanting to be best friends when the relationship inevitably ends in disaster but more on that later.

I have worked for her 2 other times which didn’t end well but I figured it was better than being a personal trainer and living on my ma’s pull out couch. MA!!! THE MEATLOAF!!!

Two days later I was on the road from Dallas to San Diego.  I rolled into La Jolla at about 1am that night.  (Random side note: sunflower seeds are also great for staying awake since it gives you something to focus on.)

Everything was good for a while.  There was talk about growing the business and all of the money we were going to make (when I ran her operations several years ago, the biz made more 2-3 times what she’s made before or since).

Well, things didn’t go according to plan.  We would make money and she would spend it.  She would go out to “business dinners” and I would stay home and eat Ramen or Rice or walk to The Taco Stand and buy a $3 fish taco.

Sadly, my ma fronted us grocery money

For some reason, I trusted that we would turn it around and she would actually pay me versus all of the money coming in going to pay her old debts.  I guess I was the dummy for keeping the faith.

Finally, at the end of August we were in LA for a shoot (my sis is an insane fashion stylist who shoots for Vogue, etc) and we both had the bright idea to move to Venice.  I lived in LA for years before moving to San Diego.

San Diego is pretty and all but I didn’t realize how boring and vanilla it is until I started coming to LA for work recently.  The surf culture is cool, but everyone is white and there is no culture.  A lot of the good concerts skip San Diego because they come to LA and there is pretty much no film scene.

I used to hate LA because I thought everyone was skeezy and just wanted to sleep with producers to get to the top, etc but I just had a bad attitude.  It is pretty crazy how when you change your thoughts, your whole world and life changes.

The reasons I love LA:

  1. There is so much to do.
  2. There are so many interesting people
  3. Everyone here is up to something.  People have dreams and ambition and are willing to put it all on the line to do what they love (something I didn’t find in SD).  I’m all for being a beach rat but I also do other stuff besides surf and lay around in my bikini all day.
  4. The OG Arclight in Hollywood.  Sorry, La Jolla but your arclight blows compared to the one in Hollywood,
  5. MUSIC!
  6. Richard Slimmons
  7. Malibu!

There are so many more but I’ll leave it at that.

Anyhoo, my sis and I hatch a plan to move to Venice.  Our outstanding invoices aren’t paying and we’re broke so we talk to a friend of ours who lives in Venice to see if we can stay with him for a month while house hunting and hustling.  Approved!  YAY!

We packed up all of our stuff (I have almost nothing so I really helped my sister move) rented a U-haul and DID WORK!

My sis sleeps in the bedroom with whats-his-nuts and I am on a couch yet again, which I’m totally cool with.  It’s all good for a couple of weeks.  The money still isn’t rolling in and I’m trying to think of ways to may some bones so I can survive.

My first job out of school was in TV/Film.  I still know some Hollywood peeps from working on BSTV and Reno 911! as a post PA so I put out the feelers for freelance PA work.  I’m not above manual labor.

I came back from San Diego after an awesome weekend with my Texas crew seeing Phish. And saw that my sis was basically draining that bank account again so I paid myself $100 from the business account which I am authorized to do  so I could get food and gas. (This $100 payment brought me to a total of being paid $440 since May.  $440 in 6 months.  I mean I’m no math wizard, but that probably equates to less than what people make in a sweat shop.

Anyhoo, my sis immediately calls and asks me to put the money back into the account so she can pay for $700 car payment to which I reply, “I have to eat.  Your car payment is not my problem.”  At that point she yelled “Fuck YOU.”  So I returned the favor and said eff you and hung up.

Side note: During this time, my sis and the guy we are staying with have become a couple so she started being increasingly mean to me repeating her pattern of ditching me for a dude.  I know this sounds like an insane concept, but I thought you could have a boyfriend and still have friends and be nice and a good human.  Hmmmm, maybe her robot heart is not wired that way.

About an hour later she comes home and I get up from a nap on the couch and we go for a walk to discuss our situation. To maintain her anonymity, I’ll just refer to her as the devil.

The Devil:  So I just wanted to take a walk cause this conversation is not anyone’s business.

Me: Ok.

The Devil: So I don’t think this is working out.

Me: Agreed

The Devil:  I feel like you’re not happy and I’m not happy.

Me:  I’m actually really happy.  My only probably is with you and you not paying me. All of the money we are making is going toward paying your debts and expenses.

The Devil: I’ve been supporting you since you moved out here.

Me: Supporting me?!  I’ve been working my ass off and you haven’t even paid me.

The Devil:  I’ll pay you as soon as I deduct money for rent and food.

Me:  You haven’t even been paying rent and mom has been fronting us grocery money.

The Devil:  I don’t even want to talk to you anymore.  You need to leave.

Me:  Leave?  It’s not your house.

The Devil:  You need to leave.

(This is when I really lost it.  I have taken 6 months of her abuse and just let it roll off, but this was the final straw.)

Me: What do I have to find someone to f*ck so I have a place to sleep?  It’s called being a whore! You’re a f*cking c*nt whore.  I’ll fucking kill you. (Keep in mind we were on Venice Blvd on a busy Sunday and at this point I got in her face and started yelling,  I went from 0 to crazy hood rat in .5 seconds).

**Side note:  I would never really do anything to hurt her physically.  It just felt really good to stand up to her since she’s been so verbally abusive to me pretty much my entire life.  So nice to spend time with people who always point out the negative…

I wish you could have seen the look on her face.  That 6 foot tall hobag was scuuured. I may only be 5’5 but I’m scrappy.

Anyhoo, I went and sat on the couch and stared her down.  I apologized to the roommates (who I am friends with) and told them my new plan to be an uber driver and get off of their couch asap.  They were super cool about it while my sister kept sending me insane texts saying that I need to leave.  Sorry psycho, it ain’t your place.

This video sums up how I feel about my sister:

Ima read that bitch. Ima school that bitch.  Ima take that bitch to college. Ima give that bitch some knowledge.

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Side note: I’m 33 and she’s 35.  The fact that we’re borrowing money from our mom is beyond pathetic.

So that was on Sunday.  2 days ago she canceled my cell phone with no warning since we were on a business plan together.  Joke’s on her cause I got a brand new iPhone for free for trading in my old one.

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If I am down and out she wants to be the savior and pick up the pieces but as soon as life is on the up and up for me, she wants to kick my teeth in.  She has such low self esteem that she feels the need to knock me down so I don’t become more successful than her.  It’s just sad.

The moral of this whole crazy story is that life has been throwing me all kinds of OB-STACKLES and I’ve been crushing that shit!  Life is good.

Someone was saying I should get back at her, but you know what?  I don’t feel the need.  I’m happy and she’s miserable.  Happy people don’t treat other humans the way she does.  She’s mean to everyone unless she is sleeping with them or they can help her career.


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She does owe me over $14,000 so I may sell her furniture or vintage fashion clothes that are being stored in my friends garage if she doesn’t get on a payment plan with me soon. (She’s so materialistic, that will get her attention.  She’s been avoiding me and not answering my emails when I ask her about the money she owes me.)  So glad I have some collateral cause she owes my mom and her ex boyfriend all kinds of money.  Don’t mess with my money, yo!

I’m just gonna keep on truckin and work my ass off until I make it as a Hollywood screenwriter.  And if that never happens, I’m gonna die happy knowing I went for it.  And that, my friends is winning.

Recently I had epiphany about my buddy Skipper and his death.  I’ve been trying to fill a huge gaping hole in my soul since he died on October 16, 2005.  He was my best friend and soul mate (in a completely platonic way). And my life will never be the same.  No one will ever replace him and I’ll never have a relationship like that again.  I’m finally okay with that.  How many people can say they had the same best friend from birth until age 24?  If Skipper was never in my life I wouldn’t be who I am today and I know he felt the same.

The best thing about our relationship was that there was no romantic connection.  It was so much more than that.  We never wondered if we would be in each other’s life.  We knew we would be together until the end.  We could have a blow out about something stupid and then 5 minutes later hug it out and get a beer (or steal his mom’s franzia box wine depending on the year).  We stayed friends through the awkward teen years, dating d-bags, college, etc.

Whew.  Writing is so therapeutic.  I’m glad I got that out.

Anyhoo, life is good.  I hope you have an awesome Halloween.  I know I will!