I've dropped and knocked over everything. My gmail was hacked and has spread like meningitis on a college campus.

But I've got amazing friends who eat pistachio gelato with me. AND some who send me pink shoes. And encourage me to drunk dial them.
Sometimes I'm stunned at how lucky I am.

Last night's supervisor was still learning the ropes so it took us about an hour to close. Got home. Both roommates had guests, and everyone was congregated in the living room.

Yes, that room I rent. A game of "Never have I ever" during which I judged them to be prudes and perverts on alternating terms. I didn't fall asleep until 3AM.... While they were still carrying on. When my alarm went off at 6.45 AM I kept the alarm ringing at 5 minute intervals while I got dressed in the bathroom.

Had I been given any advance notice, I could have found somewhere else to stay last night.

There is very little I have not dropped, spilled, knocked over or broken in the past few days. Be it coffee, steamed milk, protein powder, more coffee- different location- dropped glass containers in stores, almost dropped breakfast this AM.

I feel like I'm hungover, yet have not had a drop to drink.

One year here in LA. One year since the day I flew out of Hartford, spending my time in the airport with Ida- in a strange piece of coincidence that only happens in movies and, you know, real life.

Since that point I've- gained 35lbs. Tanked my credit. Lost some brain cells. Lost contact with some friends. Completely lost what little mojo I had. Aged 10 years.

Since that point I've- learned how to make a cappuccino. got health insurance. made the decision to file for bankruptcy. made some new friends. secured an internship that not only puts me in a golf cart on a lot, but helped clarify where I should be heading next in my career.

I don't love LA, but I think we'll be friends.