A day in the life of being unemployed but feeling jazzed about life may unfold in the following manner:
1. Bike to that new Starbucks that isn't overcrowded yet and spend your rainy day savings on a latte. It's okay to get a "grande" because it's a skinny latte.
2. Also get cream cheese pumpkin cake. It's okay because you got it with a skinny latte.
3. Pop open that laptop and check your emails, apply to jobs, and let grandma know her letter arrived in the mail.
4. Bike from there to the library. In the process you may speed down an epic tunnel you've only ever driven through. You may age 10 seconds backwards.
5. Jack music from the library, by which I mean believe yourself to be a total genius because you figured out that you can check out CDs there for free.
6. Meet up for lunch with your friend who works in downtown, and take your food to the swanky outdoor rooftop terrace of a building neither of you works in.
7. Head back to the library, pop that laptop back open and make significant editing progress on your okay-it's-shitty-but-getting-slightly-less-shitty draft of your pilot... whoah, when's the last time you ENJOYED writing this?
8. Bike back home and blog.
You may or may not be wearing your pajamas while all of this is happening.
Yep yep yeppity yep yep, it has been an "up" day for sure. In the midst of "interim unemployment," without a structured schedule I tend to bounce pretty frequently between up and down days. I've had a couple downer days since leaving my job, but for every one of those days there is a day like today. "Jessica," you might say, "I believe that's the sign of a personality disorder." Nonsense! You worry too much. Stop distracting me while I'm shaving this stuffed animal.
I have a couple other life updates which may or may not be contributing factors to my peachy mood. One is that I got a small production gig as a 1st AD on a short film next week. MAKIN' DAT ULTRA-LOW BUDGET GREEEEEEEN DAWG.
Second is that on Sunday I had my first experience at The Standard. The Standard is a scene-y lounge/venue in a swanky downtown hotel known as, The Standard. I've never been because I have a pretty serious allergic reaction to West Coast guidos, but it's one of those places that's like,
*nasally voice*
"Ohhhh you wanna go to The Standard? Me and the girls were gonna go party at The Standard. You've never been to The Standard? Ohhhhhh my gaw how can you say you live in LA when you've never been to The Standarrrrrrrd."
So I decided to take my ratty ass up to their roof and check it out for myself.
I also dragged my boyfriend along with me, who is even more cynical about such places than I am. That's perfect because cynical people are like a portable live-action Mystery Science Theater 3000.
We did not get off to a great start showing up to the pool party late and standing in the line outside for an hour and a half. But all in all, it worked out because of 3 infallible factors:
1. Alcohol
2. Outdoor water beds
3. Giant pretzels
Absinthe somehow entered the equation, but I didn't ask for that.
Once given roof access we met up with one of my film friends and her posse of small, attractive blonde women and proceeded to drink. The wildlife at The Standard was amusing^n. There was a fair mix of successful models, desperate models, and Hollywood weirdos dancing around in bathing suits and participating in everyone's favorite mating ritual, "Guess how much I paid for these sunglasses." In that regard there was really never any hope for me; the girl who gave us our wrist bands had already called out my $12.50 bathing suit top from Forever 21. So instead, I just acted like the socially passable version of a 6-year-old on a jungle gym and bounced around on the weird water bed pods they had by the pool.
One section of the roof is a "biergarten" that in my opinion was getting a lot less attention than it deserved. It was a cute patio area surrounded by [fake] greenery and had a ping pong table, a second bar that nobody was really using, and a stand where a dude was straight up making giant pretzels. Boyfran and I split one, by which I mean, I think I ate part of his half. It was truly das Secret Biergarten.
Ultimately, The Standard is pricy and maybe a place to visit every once in a blue moon (as you may have guessed, I seriously need to financially starve myself to even out the past few days' expenses). But it's certainly not my idea of a standard weekend outing.
DO YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE???
1. Bike to that new Starbucks that isn't overcrowded yet and spend your rainy day savings on a latte. It's okay to get a "grande" because it's a skinny latte.
2. Also get cream cheese pumpkin cake. It's okay because you got it with a skinny latte.
3. Pop open that laptop and check your emails, apply to jobs, and let grandma know her letter arrived in the mail.
4. Bike from there to the library. In the process you may speed down an epic tunnel you've only ever driven through. You may age 10 seconds backwards.
 |
| and 3 years forward when it's time to bike back home. |
6. Meet up for lunch with your friend who works in downtown, and take your food to the swanky outdoor rooftop terrace of a building neither of you works in.
7. Head back to the library, pop that laptop back open and make significant editing progress on your okay-it's-shitty-but-getting-slightly-less-shitty draft of your pilot... whoah, when's the last time you ENJOYED writing this?
8. Bike back home and blog.
You may or may not be wearing your pajamas while all of this is happening.
Yep yep yeppity yep yep, it has been an "up" day for sure. In the midst of "interim unemployment," without a structured schedule I tend to bounce pretty frequently between up and down days. I've had a couple downer days since leaving my job, but for every one of those days there is a day like today. "Jessica," you might say, "I believe that's the sign of a personality disorder." Nonsense! You worry too much. Stop distracting me while I'm shaving this stuffed animal.
I have a couple other life updates which may or may not be contributing factors to my peachy mood. One is that I got a small production gig as a 1st AD on a short film next week. MAKIN' DAT ULTRA-LOW BUDGET GREEEEEEEN DAWG.
Second is that on Sunday I had my first experience at The Standard. The Standard is a scene-y lounge/venue in a swanky downtown hotel known as, The Standard. I've never been because I have a pretty serious allergic reaction to West Coast guidos, but it's one of those places that's like,
*nasally voice*
"Ohhhh you wanna go to The Standard? Me and the girls were gonna go party at The Standard. You've never been to The Standard? Ohhhhhh my gaw how can you say you live in LA when you've never been to The Standarrrrrrrd."
So I decided to take my ratty ass up to their roof and check it out for myself.
 |
| Who's here to party? |
We did not get off to a great start showing up to the pool party late and standing in the line outside for an hour and a half. But all in all, it worked out because of 3 infallible factors:
1. Alcohol
2. Outdoor water beds
3. Giant pretzels
Absinthe somehow entered the equation, but I didn't ask for that.
Once given roof access we met up with one of my film friends and her posse of small, attractive blonde women and proceeded to drink. The wildlife at The Standard was amusing^n. There was a fair mix of successful models, desperate models, and Hollywood weirdos dancing around in bathing suits and participating in everyone's favorite mating ritual, "Guess how much I paid for these sunglasses." In that regard there was really never any hope for me; the girl who gave us our wrist bands had already called out my $12.50 bathing suit top from Forever 21. So instead, I just acted like the socially passable version of a 6-year-old on a jungle gym and bounced around on the weird water bed pods they had by the pool.
One section of the roof is a "biergarten" that in my opinion was getting a lot less attention than it deserved. It was a cute patio area surrounded by [fake] greenery and had a ping pong table, a second bar that nobody was really using, and a stand where a dude was straight up making giant pretzels. Boyfran and I split one, by which I mean, I think I ate part of his half. It was truly das Secret Biergarten.
Ultimately, The Standard is pricy and maybe a place to visit every once in a blue moon (as you may have guessed, I seriously need to financially starve myself to even out the past few days' expenses). But it's certainly not my idea of a standard weekend outing.
DO YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE???
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