Where I've been!

Hello again, adoring public (all 8 of you)! I know it's been a long time since I've written, but there has been high drama in the Casa de los V., so please give me a chance to explain it. Way back in December, there was this InStyle party and my boss’s husband (Big Famous Actor) needed a date for his assistant so he asked me to go along. Begrudgingly I dragged myself all the way to Neiman’s and met with Nanette to fit me with a new Zac Posen. Two hours later I went to Loehmann’s and bought last season’s Marc Jacobs instead. It sucks being poor! But still, naturally, who was I to pass up an evening of cosmos and cuties, with a well-dressed guy at my side to fend off all the potential creeps? I met up with Cute Assistant Boy (heretofore known as CAB) at Juliano's Raw for a quick dinner, because nothing's tackier than (a) meeting up with someone right outside the entrance to a party and (b) actually eating the food, no matter how expensive it is.

As usual, the courtyard was full of desparate way-too-tarted-up actresses hoping someone important would notice them on the way in. None of them were in the running to be the female acquaintance I still hope to eventually make, if that's what you're wondering. CAB and I steered through the place pretty well, managing to avoid both the people who were way too into making deals, and the people who were way into acting crazy and doing whatever drugs they could find. (And the people who were kind of both.) CAB started talking to some sitcom girl eventually, so I went off in search of drinks, which I obviously found pretty easily. Drinks turned into more drinks, which turned into a confused, zig-zaggy, kind of floaty V. But Floaty V. managed to find CAB again before the night was over, and Floaty V. was pretty intent on making out with him. Which she did, successfully. But she doesn't really remember what happened over the next couple hours.

Until suddenly Non-Floaty V. and Surprisingly Less Sexy CAB woke up on the couch... mostly naked... in the living room of my boss.

I wish I was making it up. The conclusion, aftermath, and after-aftermath will follow shortly, once I've had another couple days to Fred Segal the whole fiasco out of my system.

Vegas, Baby!

Spent the weekend in Vegas. G was chasing some boy who's a back-up dancer for the Celine show and we scored some free tickets for Satruday night and of course backstage passes and afterparties and blah blah blah....Anyway, G ducked out of work early on Friday and we hopped in his Miata and took off for the desert. We spent about half the drive continuing our neverending "Death Cab vs. Postal Service" debate, and then we segued right over to a discussion of Lost and how we both totally agree that they need to ditch all the mystery crap and just get that hobbit guy's shirt off, like, NOW. But if I'm gonna start talking TV, then I must tell you my dirty confession: I am a reality addict. Lost is great and all, but Survivor is the real thing! I don't see how anyone can compare the actual human drama you see on The Apprentice and American Idol to the phony manufactured emotions that you get from the rest of those so-called "dramas" that are just cooked up by a bunch of overpaid 30-something writers eating lunch at the Ivy every day.

But I totally lost track of Vegas-- So as soon as we got to the hotel (we stayed at the Palms, because I just HAD to see the suite where they did Real World), G started up a conversation in the lobby with the above-mentioned Hot Guy who's a backup dancer for Celine, and G was so smooth that Hot Guy was offering us those tickets within like five minutes. I don't want to sound corny or anything, but Celine's show is really really good. I was literally crying at some points, just with the overwelming magnitude of her performance, and the dancers, and the scenery and everything. And then the parties afterwards were... well, they were something else. Drinks, drinks, more drinks, Versace, flamethrowers, etc. It turned out that a LOT of her dancers were Hot Gay Guys, so G was pretty much in heaven.

Meanwhile, I was making my way through the crowd, looking for Rebound Material, vodka-tonic-twist in hand, when--

"V?"

"Sarah??"

--!! girlish squealing !!--

It was Sarah from high school! Had it been so long? She looked so different! If she hadn't seen me first, I would have never recognized her! And then later I secretly wondered if she had had some work done....

Sarah's an assistant at the PR company that represents Celine, so she travels with her boss back and forth between L.A. and Vegas about three times a month. Nice work if you can get it! We chatted for a while and did the total-L.A. thing of exchanging business cards, and it was pretty cool to relive the high school "glory days" such as they were.

Four vodka-tonic-twists later, I saw G slither out the door with Hot Guy (and potentially a few other Hot Guys now that I think about it), and Sarah and I were starting to talk about her loser brother and how she's trying to find him a nice girl in LA to hook up with. I took this as my cue to answer an urgent fake phone call and dash out.

G and I took off back for LA the following afternoon. On the ride home I got to thinking about Sarah and her glam job and her perfect nose...and how I totally forgot to hit on her!! What was I thinking??

Staring out at the passing cactuses, I fingered her business card in my pocket, and started to doze off....

Allow me to...

This is all made up. None of it's real. God, doesn't it feel that way, sometimes? Like it's all in the hands of someone else? Well, no more. Nope. Today it changes.

Sorry, I'm kinda getting ahead of myself here. I'm V, nice to meet you too, and this is my new blog that you are reading. It's not one of those blogs that's just talking about life in general cuz GOD those can be so boring, right? This is actually going to (hopefully) chronicle something new in my life, something specific. Yes, something in my post-breakup life. I know, I know, big cliche. Not like my pre-breakup life was "da bomb" or whatever. Things with the ex-boy were okay, sometimes they were really really good but thats all over now.

I'm being sorta cryptic, huh? Don't worry, I'll get to the point soon. I'm not going to waste a bunch of your time. I do have to tell you a couple things about myself first.

I live in Los Angeles. By myself. The ex-boy has Parker (that's the cat), but I still get visitation rights. I was supposed to get Parker in the break-up, but ex-boy refused to pay cat-support and I knew I couldn't keep him happy and healthy on my temp salary (Parker, that is. Not ex-boy. I don't think any salary could keep him happy.) So ex-boy (let's call him M) gets to keep the cat, and I am allowed to see him every other weekend.

I spend most of my time these days reading scripts by the pool in the apartment complex, but it's been getting cold lately, so I've transferred my "office" to the hot-tub. I read scripts for an independent producer. She's married to a Big Famous Actor and is really busy and can't possibly get through all the scripts by herself, so I help her out by weeding out the riff-raff. It's a cool job but it doesn't pay very much so I also temp here and there.

I drive a Jeep. The Jeep is named Edward, and he is white with cow-print seat covers. I bought Edward when I first moved out here two years ago. I totally couldn't afford him at the time but a girl needs a bad-ass car to get her through the big crazy city, right?

But I digress. I'm starting this blog because I'm starting a new chapter in my life and I feel that it's important enough to chronicle. After the split with M, I got to wondering about stuff. I started living on my own and realized that I don't need a man in my life to make me complete. I'm fine the way I am! I took a look around and noticed that what I really do enjoy is spending time with my friends. My GIRL-friends. And I was up late talking and drinking with my gay-boy friend G last night and I had an epiphany - What I need is more women in my life! Yes! WOMEN! Get what I'm saying? WOMEN! So this blog is to help me and hopefully help my readers start to understand what it's like to be....well...me. A girl on her own in a big crazy city, learning about herself, about life, love, and the pursuit of a great shag.