  Last night on the phone my best friend asked me if I planned to live in Los Angeles for the rest of my life. We were exchanging witty commentary on the Olympics, and I don’t remember how exactly we got to said question, but it was an interesting thing for me to think about. I’m originally from Washington DC, I lived there for 12 years before being brutally uprooted by my parents and relocating to Los Angeles.
In the mind of a 12 year old half way through middle school, that was the worst possible thing to ever happen in my life. Besides the fact that I had been friends with the same group of girls since the 2nd grade, that really cute 14 year old in my karate class had FINALLY started paying attention to me. To say that I was devastated would be putting it lightly. I hated LA with a dire passion my first 3 years here.
All of the sudden I was in the world of palm trees and BMWs (and I’m talking about the cars that the spoiled ass chemistry failing 16 year olds at my private school drove), and I definitely did not fit in. I couldn’t comprehend a 13 year old having a party thrown for him in an airplane hanger because he had learned to recite 10 lines in Hebrew. I had a great time on the indoor bungee cord ride though. The sun was what got me. Hands down. After a couple of years, I would go back to the East Coast to visit people and be FREEZING MY ASS OFF.
I discovered Jamba Juice and Coffee Bean. I learned how to drive in an empty beach parking lot. I fell in love for the first time. And then after a while, it just felt right. After I graduated from college (45 minutes east of LA), there was no where else in the world I wanted to live. My friends now all agree that I am decidedly an “LA Chick.” My godfather upstate refers to me as his “LA Dolly.” And I’ve stopped flinching when people refer to me as being “Hollywood.” I have to admit. I don’t walk anywhere, I hate going to establishments without valet, I have my beloved Jamba Juice every Saturday, I refuse to wear socks in the summer (and I never wear pantyhose under any circumstances), and I’ve encountered both Hilton sisters at a party on more than one occasion. I’m hooked. Not that I consider it a bad thing though. Like every other person in LA, I work in “The Industry.” Except I actually have a job. A cruel, draining, thankless job as an agent trainee at a top five talent agency, but I enjoy it.
My job is a lot like this city. Most of the people you will come across are fake, self absorbed jerk-offs with a minor sense of moral responsibility at best, but there are pockets of people here and there who actually enjoy what they do, love the “art” (if you dare to refer to Alien vs. Predator as “art”), and are really and truly dedicated to this business for all of the right reasons. And for the record, I do consider money a justifiable reason to be dedicated to something. I’m so LA. 
