I year, 26 days, and 8 hours

I have been in Los Angeles 1 year, 26 days, and approximately 5 hours. Not that I’m keeping track…

As I was walking back from Urth Café (where I’ve been seen every day for 1 year 4 days and approximately 3 hours) I was thinking about how I could put into words this big accomplishment. If only there was some image, some fun anecdote that would help me explain the way I feel. And like a gift from God - or maybe Jesus from Sunset and La Cienega – I saw him.

He was shirtless, wearing short shorts, big blue plastic ray-bans, and holding onto a leash that was attached to a dog so small I could have easily fit him in my pocket. He was oblivious to the world as he was listening to his iPod and boldly singing along with the music as he waited for his little rat dog to finish her business.

“Take it off…yeah yeah yeah….Take it off….yeah yeah yeah.”

As I passed by, unnoticed, I wanted to let him know if he took anymore off he might be arrested.

This man did not care that he couldn’t sing, that maybe his shorts were just a bit too short, or that such big man with such a small dog is funny to us common folk. He just seemed happy.

At first I was annoyed. Who does this guy think he is? Not caring in LA? He looks absolutely ridiculous. How dare he be so happy!! But then that little voice inside me – the voice casting directors, diets, and snooty boutique owners drown out – spoke up and said something momentous.

WHY DO YOU CARE?

Since moving to LA 1 year, 25 days, and approximately 6 hours ago I’ve started caring too much what other people think of me. I think most people in Los Angeles – judging by the sunglasses, diets, and fancy cars – feel the same way. It’s hard to stare criticism in the face everyday and boldly proclaim, “I don’t care what you think of me. I am good enough no matter what you say.”

It has taken me a little more than a year in Los Angeles to realize that I do care. Hopefully it will take less than that to wean myself from this addictive attitude. Someday I hope to be like that man in short shorts and not give a flying you-know-what what other people are thinking of me. I would like to climb to the top of the Hollywood sign, look down at all of Los Angeles and scream at the top of my lungs….

I don’t care if I’m not what you are looking for!

I don’t care that I had chocolate cake for supper!

I don’t care that I’m not wearing the right label!

I don’t care that you filmed a movie with Brad Pitt!

I don’t care that you think I’m too fat, skinny, tan, pale, inexperienced, too experienced, nice, bitchy, cold, warm, or naïve.

I don’t care because I AM GOOD ENOUGH.

Yes, someday I will climb up that sign and let the world know that I am above caring what anyone else thinks. But not right now….

After all I’ve only been here 1 year, 25 days, and 7 hours. A girl needs some time before she breaks multiple trespassing laws and asserts herself. For now, my big “look how much I don’t care what you think” moment was not shaving my legs for 10 days.

Take that society.