Number Two

I recently heard that Los Angeles is the second most stressful city in the United States (after Chicago.)

Chicago must have won because of that whole 'windy city' thing.

It’s the only logical explanation that LA came in second. I mean how can a city with fire slowly encircling it, heat that makes you run your air conditioner until ice starts spraying from it (seriously, that happened) and people that make you hope those flying shards of ice will blind you so you don’t have to look at one more shallow person, not win??

Because LA deserves it. Believe me.

I’ve had a long week. And while I was trying to think of uplifting things to say about the week, how I learned some sort of life lesson or that I’m going to be okay (cue puffy white clouds and some cheery music) I have come up short.

But maybe that’s the point.

I shouldn’t try to candy coat how hard it can be out here sometimes. How poor and hungry I can be. (I’m currently sitting in Starbucks because this morning I joyfully found a gift card from months ago with five dollars left on it, rushed down the street, and am eagerly drinking caffeine and praying Mary-Kate Olsen was right when she said you could use it as an appetizer suppressant.)

I have no auditions.

I have no call from my agent.

I have no money.

I have no face wash. (Believe me, that’s a big deal.)

On Saturday I attended an alumni event for Concordia College (my alma mater.) Those sweet Minnesota kids had come all the way to California to play soccer. They were all so nice and young and innocent that I wanted to throw up (but that would have wasted too many calories.) And as I sat watching them, wishing I was like that again, the bitter, hangry me started thinking. I've decided there should be a college class that teaches these kids there will be a time in their life when they are so low on toilet paper they will have to steal some from Starbucks.

Ahem. That’s just a random example…

And for those of you who are going to make some sort of comment about how lucky I am not to be starving (debatable) in Africa, or being persecuted for my religion, or in the middle of a war (other than the one between me and my checkbook) I ALREADY KNOW. Even the mere fact that I have a computer to type this blog and a gift card to discover means I’m well ahead of the rest of the world.

But this is my party – er, I mean blog – and I can cry if I want to!

Did I mention I have no face wash?

Then again, maybe second place makes sense. Because that’s exactly what this week has been.

A big number two.