Turkey in the Pan...

Thanksgiving is almost here!!! Who's excited?? Me! Me! I am!! I love this holiday. All you have to do is eat. And then sleep. And then eat again. And then go to bed at like 9pm. How can you not like that? For the record, in elementary song we used to sing this song: "Turkey in the pan, pumpkin pie, turkey in the pan, hidee-hi...blah blah blah" The relevant part here is turkey in the pan, pumpkin pie, which my dear friend Bethy and I pretty much sing to one another year round, but specially at TGiving time when it's for real. Her hubby Keith has apparently caught the hang of our ditty and sings it too. So it's good stuff. So sometime if you're around ask me for the tune and I'll fill you in. That will never happen.

Moving on.

So, now that it's hitting me that I'm very possibly relocating to SF in the summer/fall, I am starting to realize how much/why I love LA. I think most of it is b/c it's so f'in weird. The people are all such personalities. Like you can't live here and be vanilla. Unless you're a b-school student. Then you can be totally vanilla maybe. But hey: we are super premium dark chocolate raspberry ribbon compared to your typical b-school. But anyway. I totally soaked this whole fact in the other day.

I was sitting at SBucks at Sunset and Barrington, reading my biz law text, drinking my fav bev of the holiday season, a gingerbread latte (2% milk, 2 pumps of syrup, whipped cream: yes please!!!) on Monday morning. And seriously, everyone is silly. Except me, of course. In line w/ me I have this guy who wears his sunglasses inside. And they are huge and have big green frames. And I see him every time I go there.

And sitting by me I have these two French guys. Unsure if they were lovers or whatnot. They are chain-smoking and oui-oui-oui-ing. And they have this dog. It's a lab/beagle mix. And at one point one of them leaves. And upon his return the other one gets all princessy and is like, "You can't just leave me with the dog you know!!" Even though he had to do shit w/ the dog. There was this chick wearing a juicy suit who kept running past my table, too. She was awesome. She was super loud. And she knew EVERYONE at SBucks. And when she passed the lab/beagle she'd be like, "You! You're a biter!" But the dog was totally NOT a biter.

And then there were two women carrying Barney's bags who both had dogs who stopped for a while to chill w/ the lab/beagle. And they had like a 10 minute conversation w/ the dog, including: "I'll be back in 20 minutes! We'll be right back to see you again!" I'm sure the Frenchies were thrilled.

And there was a biz-man who ran past two ladies and he knew them. Everyone knew everyone at this SBs, and clearly, none of them actually do anything for a living, so far as I can tell. It's like a whole town of crazies who are loaded and occupation-less.

Which is why in the end, I guess I have to move. B/c I may be crazy, but I have a job, I actually work. I'll never really fit in. Hmm. I think LA is the only place in America like that. What a weird place. Anyway, peace out. Turkey in the pan to you. Gobble gobble!