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June 7, 2001

Stuff You Can't Get in LA

I'm not from Los Angeles. No one is. Well, Rose is, but she's different. All of the tens of thousands of LA Natives are different. But they don't count. There are all of these Transplant Pseudo-Natives. It is said that, once you've passed the 18-month mark in LA, you have become a native. No thanks.

Of course, I know better than to complain about LA while choosing to make my life here. That habit just invites people to say, "Well, if you hate LA so much, then leave!" I did just that in 1994, but it was also because of the Northridge Quake and my persistent migraines. So why am I back?

Ah, who knows? I'm not into the Big Club Scene. I don't go out of my way to attend swanky premieres or see show tapings, except when someone visits me from out of town. I never go to the beach. I rarely drive with the top down, for that matter. I do have an agent, a cell phone, a pager, a Palm Pilot, a roadster, an "in" at several cool places, and a network of anorexic, surgically-enhanced so-called friends.

My two-digit dress size makes me abnormal out here, at least in certain circles. I believe there are two distinct LAs... maybe more. But for sure, there are two. In one, I am too big, too old, too southern, too intelligent, and too opinionated to be considered average. In the other, I am a goddess. I am self-sufficient, clever, witty, buxom, outspoken, and charming. And where do I spend my time? Begging to be permitted to sit at the Cool Kids' Table in the cafeteria.

Yeah, well... I'm getting over that. I have a whole lot more fun surrounding myself with people who appreciate me for who I am, not for how much money I could earn them, if properly cast, made-up, starved, trained, and packaged. Does this mean I've had some Oprah-worthy epiphany? Nah. Just means I'll let myself off the hook every now and then, when I don't get cast in The Next Big Thing that really is tomorrow's canceled series.

'Til then, I'll continue my quest for the things you really treasure in a place like LA: a patch of lawn, a clear-sky day, a smile from a stranger (and not the kind of smile that makes you want to take a bath), laughter, honesty, Krispy Kreme donuts, Chick-fil-A sandwiches, serious queso dip (which NO ONE out here understands), punctual mail delivery, and sweet iced tea.

Posted by bonnie at June 7, 2001 2:00 PM