I succeeded in moving back to California. I got my transfer. I decided not to get a modeling agent right away because I liked the idea of eating and laying on my ass all day at the beach, for some reason. Call it age, call it flubbing out, whatever. I was tired of being tired, so fuck it. Give me another bag of gummies and be snappy with that rum and coke.
I considered trying to get a commercial or print gig right away, and even submitted myself for a few things but I had forgotten how much harder the game is out here. In order to get gigs you have to actually try, and I wasn't in the mood. I talked to a casting agent about a Bank of America commercial and at the end of it I realized I didn't give a shit at all. I did, however, continue to vote on the SAG awards. I love feeling that I'm actually somewhat in control of which self important actor wins, lol.
All my east coast girlfriends were jealous, never visited me once. Lame douches.
I initially had my own apartment. Things were going well. Then my lease came due and my doctor boyfriend demanded I not renew my lease and move in with him, to his 1.1 million dollar home in Orange County. I'm not an idiot, I lived with a douchebag in LA some years ago....I had told myself I was never going to live with another guy, ever. I value my freedom over free rent any day. You can't put a price on freedom.
I said ok and moved in with Mr. Doctor. Things were going great until he started henpecking me about every little thing. He's cheap and bitches about the lights being on. I wanted to ask, do you do heart surgery by fucking candlelight?
Everything is shit now. Been living with him for 4 1/2 months and I'm ready for my closeup on the news for domestic violence. I can understand now why women go crazy and slice off their partner's genitals. No wonder he was single when I met him. He's bossy, anal, a control freak and cheap. Wow, what a catch! And stupid ladies everywhere think that "doctors" are such perfect partners. Think again, chumps.
What happened to me? I went from being a savvy east coast model/actress to being a west coast OC yuppie who swims at the pool in the afternoons, and takes english riding lessons at the local equestrian club. And then goes home to her tyrant boyfriend who says that "someday" we'll get married. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me but I really need to stop wasting years of my life on men who are narcissists.
I gained 5 pounds and he bitched about that, I got drunk when we were in Mexico on vacation and he bitched about that. he bitched that my blonde hair wasn't "natural" enough looking so I darkened it to a sandy blonde. He bitched about a pair of Hudson jeans i had that he didnt' like, for some weird reason..then he bitched that I bought a new small lcd flat screen tv for my home office without consulting him first.
Ahem...why the fuck do I need to ask you before I buy something for myself? I earned this money, not you. Wow, the humanity.
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