small girl vs. big city

I cant sleep.

I don’t want to eat.

I count calories and avoid eating or drinking anything that will stain my teeth.

I spend more hours in the gym a day than I do in church all week.

I’m actually worried about getting a pimple between now and Sunday.

I went out of my way to get coffee at a more hip spot than the one close to my house.

I was a little embarrassed to hang out with a friend of a friend last weekend because sweet as she was, she “wasn’t very cool”.

WHAAAT?!?! WHO… DO… I THINK I AM!?!?

!!I!! am not cool!

Ok slow down. I’m cool. Right? Ha. So, outside of paying rent, my biggest worries are as high on the priority totem pole as a kiddie pool is deep. I went to an industry mixer last week and laughed because “the only celebrity here is Chuck Woolery and the guy from Tool Time?” The bright eyed girl who packed up and arrived here 3yrs ago with only her dog and a u-haul full of crap would have written home about that night. That bright eyed girl would be beside herself with pride at MTV’s repetitive attempts to hire her full time on their #1 show.

This girl. This new girl traded in her best friend of a dog for a new schedule that didn’t allow time to take her to the park. This new girl doesn’t return calls and has too much to be say about the present moment…yet not a word (let alone anything to show) about the future.

They say you never know when opportunity will knock. Well, I know someone, we’ll call him Opportunity, who is on his way over. In preparation for this visit, the house cleaning I’ve done has turned me into a shallow, obsessive, insecure hologram. I laugh about those who buy into the illusion of Hollywood. And yet, with it on my doorstep I am all too eager to melt into it. Now I  get why they all chose to worry if they’re thin enough/pretty enough/good enough… because that’s the price of keeping what you want when you finally get it. But because success in this town isn’t tangible, paying the price one day doesn’t guarantee it won’t evaporate the next. If I allow myself to believe and become apart of this mirage that isn’t reality… the old me will vanish along with it.

I cant choose to lose her. I am not the girl that worries if they will like me. If my hair is the right shade of brown or if my freckles will look good on a big screen. I am… looking for … the girl that would breeze through the fantasy with playful reckless abandon, all in the name of fun. In the name of having something to write home about. I only have a few days to find her… that side of me that I lost at some event some night somewhere in this city.

When I do, I’m not letting her eat cake. But a cookie might not be out of the question…

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