What I saw in Los Angeles

I recently traveled to Los Angeles on account of J. texting me “When are you coming?” and me responding with “5/28?” I had three days off over Memorial Day weekend, and I’ve been a bit stationary for a while; hopefully travel is good for the soul like moral broccoli. I texted Lauren as well because she was in the area and she’s always good fun.

I was going to crash with J. but she’s not emotionally stable so we had a continuing argument in which she took offense to my plans to eating out a bunch due to her relative penury. We play chicken so my response is to book a hotel and plan to hang out with Lauren more. I had already purchased tickets to two plays so we had an itinerary. Turns out that if you have money you don’t need to apologize to people.

Lauren – We talked about the past a lot. About the future. About how people are doing. A lot of stuff. Stuff I can’t write down. She’s doing well. Her boyfriend’s art is amazing in many ways. I would buy some of his paintings but unfortunately I wouldn’t be able to display them publicly. They don’t have much money but they’re young and relatively happy so that’s good for them. Apparently I’m the only one of my close friends who didn’t want / try to fuck her.

J. – Unfortunately J. is crazy. We established in undergrad the fundamental truth of the crazy/hot graph. A girl can only be as crazy as she is hot and J. is one of the craziest girls I know. Nobody else calls me in tears at 4 am – that is not a service I choose to perform for others. I have to severely censor myself around her, which is fundamentally annoying. You just stand there second guessing whether she’s going to be offended by any off-the-cuff remark. Also she dragged me to a Chinese herbalist. She doesn’t believe in allopathic medicine and takes random ass herbs and shit that she buys there on recommendation of the herbalist.

And given her advanced age (early 30’s) and the stress that comes with extreme neuroticism, her appearance has fallen apart. So that’s sad but the passage of time means flab and sun damage if you don’t take care of yourself. Maybe it says something about me that I only accept validation from pretty girls. She’s just so complex to deal with that it’s scarcely worth the effort. It’s like talking to a late-game Jenga tower that teeters with the wind.

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