Dating in LA: Scooter

Scooter really is his name. Maybe I should have made up an alias for him, but honestly, the name is like, 80% of the story.

So, the two of us were texting before our blind date, and naturally I dropped that I had a blog because, truth be told, this thing is a real dick magnet. Sorry, for the crude phrasing, but there is no better way to put it. This blog is the Greased Lightening of digital media.

Scooter asked if I was going to blog about him.

Although I was entering into this date with an open mind, I knew somewhere deep down the odds were that I would end up blogging about a blind date with a guy named Scooter.

And here we are.

I have no choice. You know who did have a choice? Scooter’s parents. They did not have to name their kid Scooter, practically forcing me to blog about him.

But like I told Scooter, I only blog about people if you give me something to blog about. Bless his heart, he thought I meant if we had a great date, but I set him straight and let him know that this was all in his hands. I only blog about a guy when he gives me 400+ words worth of material (See: 700 words on The Bicycle Thief). Unfortunately for Scooter, I’ve already passed 200 words and I haven’t even made it to the restaurant yet.

Scoots and I met at a restaurant in West Hollywood, where the waitresses’ uniforms looked like they were in a production of Newsies at Saint Agatha’s School for Wayward Girls. It was both adorable and uncomfortable.

To get the conversation rolling, I told Scootie-Toots that he looked like Peter from Homeland. 

MV5BMjEyNzk5MjIwNV5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMDA5MzM3OA@@._V1._SX600_SY800_With a cold, dead stare he said, “no, I don’t.” (SOMETHING PETER FROM HOMELAND WOULD SAY).

It was as if I just told him he looked like Mandy Patinkin.

“But it’s a compliment,” I told him. Maybe he thought I meant Mandy Patinkin? “He’s the young guy who works with Carrie on season 2.”

“No, I know who you’re talking about, I just don’t look like him. We’re just both the same age with dark hair. That would be like if I told you that you look like Emma Stone just because you’re both pale red heads.”

K, SCOOTER!

At this point, I’m a little miffed. Obviously, I look like Lindsay Lohan circa Herbie Fully Loaded.

“Right, but I don’t look like Emma Stone and you do look like the guy from Homeland.”

From there the conversation only went down hill. We moved on from him vaguely insulting my skin tone to him flat out pooping on the city where I basically grew up.

“So, where did you go to school?” Scoots-boots inquired.

“Emerson College in Boston.”

“Oh, I spent about 6 months there for a TV show I was producing… Terrible city.”

“You know that those Boston Marathon bombings occurred in Boston, right? Like, two days ago.”

“Ya, it doesn’t make it any less of hell hole.”

It should be noted that Scooter was saying all of this in a pin striped blazer. He was saying this in a pin striped blazer, and this whole time his name was SCOOTER.

Finally, the bill comes, and I made a VERY half-hearted courtesy reach for the check. He looks at it and says to me, “guess what our waitress’s name is.”

“Melissa.”

“Worse, Victoria.”

SCOOTER SCOOTER SCOOTER SCOOTER SCOOTER SCOOTER SCOOTER SCOOTER SCOOTER SCOOOOOOOOTERRRRRRR!!!!!

Victoria, if you are reading this, you were perfectly lovely, and those suspenders looked darling on you.

Scooter, if you are reading this, you can’t have that poor of an attitude AND be named Scooter.

Razor Scooter and I have not spoken since.

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Happy Mother’s Day!!!

Now that my mom and I live in different time zones, I constantly have to worry about her spoiling my favorite shows.

These are some texts from last night. I think she’s beginning to understand the sentiment #SorryImNotSorry…. she’s so hip.

photo 1 photo 2

Happy Mother’s Day, Mama!

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TGIF with Q. Wallis

Screen shot 2013-05-10 at 1.29.30 PMDoes anyone have any fun weekend plans?

Me?

Well, Q. Wallis and I are gonna hit up the WeHo United Church of Christ to thank the Savior for this most delicious Friday. Then we’re off to Cabo’s Cantina for happy hour where we will thank Him for our most delicious watermelon margariterrrsss!!!! After breaking a few hundos at the nearest In & Out, we’ll stuff some ones in Q’s Gucci puppy purse and make our way to The Hollywood Men exotic dance revue. It’ll be an early night for my favorite Oscar nominee because SOMEONE has to rest her voice for Annie rehearsals on Monday!!! But that won’t stop us from a little M&M (mani’s and mimosas!!!!) while we read some scripts all Saturday afternoon. Sunday is a day of REST, and NO business talk allowed!!! We’ll watch some old episodes of The Good Wife on my DVR, say a prayer that our favorite dancer, Marc Antunny, gets that kidney he’s been hoping for, and then have a full night’s sleep because it’s RISE AND GRIND on Monday morning!! LOL #hardknocklife #jk #blessed #GetWellMarcAntunny

Amanda Knox Has a Boyfriend and I Don’t…

…now, let’s find out the “why” of it…

Tuesday night I live tweeted CNN’s Chris Cuomo interview with Amanda Knox. Here’s what ensued:

Screen shot 2013-05-09 at 8.59.41 AMStill true.

Screen shot 2013-05-09 at 8.59.53 AM Cuoms was being really uncool.

Screen shot 2013-05-09 at 9.00.05 AM“WELL THE THEORY IS THAT YOU’RE A BIG SLUT/MURDERER, HOW COULD THEY COME UP WITH THAT IF YOU’RE NOT A BIG SLUT/MURDERER?” – Chris Cuomo and his Bachelor of Science degree in journalism
Screen shot 2013-05-09 at 9.00.18 AM …..things got a little femi-nasty.

Screen shot 2013-05-09 at 9.00.28 AM#tryingtohelp

Screen shot 2013-05-09 at 9.00.39 AM Ya know, if it weren’t for the murder and 4 years in prison, Amanda’s trip abroad would basically be an adorable romantic comedy of errors, where a young woman experiences her sexual awakening abroad. Screen shot 2013-05-09 at 9.00.49 AMSoups on, and I’m stirring up trouble.

Screen shot 2013-05-09 at 9.01.00 AM Do you need a deposit slip so you can take that advice to the bank?

So, this is where I’m at right now.

FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER!!! @daralaine

Winning: Denise Richards

It was announced that Charlie Sheen’s four year-old twins with second ex-wife, Brooke Mueller, were taken from her custody by Child Protective Services on Thursday night and turned over to the toned, loving arms of Sheen’s first ex-wife, Denise Richards. Richards’ now has temporary custody while little Bob and Max’s mommy is on “vacation” at Betty Ford.

brooke-muller-charlie-sheen-boys-taken-away-lead

I hate to say Denise is “winning” since this is just a bad situation and children are involved (and more importantly because that slang is outdated), but she really is coming out of this smelling like a rose perfume covering up the stench of a fresh spray tan.

Denise got a lot of bad press when she did her reality show, It’s Complicated, but after Charlie went insane, drinking tigers’ blood and trying to procure a intern, (I’m assuming because he was misinformed and thought interns were prostitutes working for college credit?) she’s been coming off as very patient and levelheaded. She is pretty selflessly taking on her ex-husband’s children, in addition to raising her two older daughters and her adopted baby, Eloise.

She was a triumph in Drop Dead Gorgeous and she named her daughter Eloise! What a lady.

Denise+Richards+takes+new+baby+Eloise+doctors+8nX4kNMR6NMl

Look at Eloise. If those eyebrows could talk they’d say, “girl, have you seen Wild Things? Mommy has always made bad look good.”

I hope Denise’s presence in the boys’ lives will make a positive difference, because as it stands now, I’d say best case scenario, those boys will grow up and only one of them will be the direct cause of a sex worker’s untimely death.

Denise, you are earning points in Heaven!

MSDDRDE EC036 You do your victory lap, Queen!

Could You Do Me a Favsies?

badassblogawards2Hey, friends! I feel like in the last two years that we’ve known each other I haven’t asked for much from you, but I was hoping I could cash in a little favor… I humbly ask that you consider nominating me for “Funniest Blogger” on this website. It takes two seconds, and if I were to win, it would give me just enough validation to keep me going in Los Angeles for another two weeks. Speaking of giving up, I did my first stand up open mic last night, and a male comic asked me if I was going to quit, move back to NH, and marry my college boyfriend. And I said “HEY, SIRRRR, jokes on you because I never HAD a boyfriend in college!”

Leave Kim Kardashian’s Armpits Alone!!!

document1878825258682083630.inddThough I’ve never been a fan of Kim’s, I suddenly have an overwhelming sense of compassion for her armpits and the armpits of women in every grocery store in America who are being subjected to this magazine cover. I realize that Kim is probably gaining this weight so she can get some sort of Jenny Craig deal after that set piece of a breathing infant pushes its way through her Kanye Kanal. If she develops preeclampsia it won’t even matter because I’m sure the line between real life and Ryan Seacrest’s SimCity has completely disintegrated at this point.

For this exercise, let’s just assume at this point that Kim has no human emotions left. So, even if a close up of her armpit on a national magazine couldn’t crack through her exterior (which I’m assuming is just one big coating of gel nail polish and melted polyester) and hurt her feelings, it’s still hurting my feelings! I’m a size 2/4. I am not Rosemary’s Babying Ryan Seacrest’s devil child. And, yet, I think I have “fat armpits” or essentially, “vagina arms.” You’d never know because I’ve become skilled at flexing whenever my self esteem smells a camera within 15 feet of me, but if you caught me walking down the street in a tank top… there they’d be. Now, thanks to InTouch, I am reminded that fat armpits are a legit concern and I WILL NEVER BE SEXY AGAIN.

Women in hair salon waiting rooms don’t need to be reminded that there is another part of their body they can hate. You know that stupid Dove commercial where they bring in that “police sketch artist” or “actor” and then they try to pass off your low self esteem as your own fault?

It’s not your fault (here’s a great counter to that Dove commercial). Because you wouldn’t know to be self conscious of your arm pits if magazines didn’t show you a picture of a beautiful, pregnant celebrity, circle her fat like a sorority sister during Hell Week, and say “EWWWW SHE’S GROSS! YOU’RE PROBS GROSS, TOO! PLEASE CHECK OUT OUR CELLULITE CREAM AD ON PAGE 78!”

5 Clues That You Might be a 55 Year-Old Divorcee

I have come to terms with the fact that I am, at heart, a 55 year-old divorcee with adult children too busy to visit me. And I don’t know if you know this, but it’s a huge week for middle aged ladies. Between closing arguments for the Jodi Arias trial starting tomorrow, Amanda Knox’s new book, and back-to-back all new episodes of SVU and Nashville on tonight, I’m just white knuckling it until it’s a socially acceptable time for me to start funneling Ramona Pinot Grigio into my gullet.

WWCBDHow do I know that my spirit is that of a woman with a declining estrogen count and a medicine cabinet full of Prolia? Well, there are some clues:

  1. My lifelong crush on Tom Selleck is now taking a back seat to my new flame: the medical examiner for the Jodi Arias trial. screen-shot-2013-04-25-at-1-11-50-pm
  2. I have come dangerously, dangerously close to calling into Nancy Grace’s show. BUT IN MY DEFENSE!!! I have some really good observations that I don’t think anyone else has thought about!
  3. I also know the first and middle names of both Nancy Grace’s twin children.
  4. As much as I miss Stabler, I think Olivia Benson and Amanda Rollins are the Cagney and Lacey of our time. cagney-and-lacey-pic-bbc-image-1-581892946
  5. Whenever she’s at a juice bar, Mama looooves to add a fiber boost! She’s also no stranger to the Metamucil Apple Crisp Fiber Wafers! I’m Mama!

Speaking of menopausal women, I’d just like to say that Gwyneth Paltrow should be ashamed of herself for allowing her mother to hawk osteoporosis pills on national television. Apparently those Will & Grace residual checks aren’t enough to pay the rent, but you’d think Gwyn could anonymously sell one of her Master Cleanse stained t-shirts on ebay and give her mother the proceeds so she can live out her retirement with dignity.

How dare you turn your back on your mother, Gwyn! Ms. Danner is too classy for this.

gwyneth_paltrow_and_mother_blythe_dannerLook at her! That bitch is regal!

5 Signs That You Just Moved to LA

  1. You stare at any thin person wearing sunglasses trying to figure out if they’re a celebrity. And you know what, often times it is a celebrity! Other times it’s the woman from the Wendy’s commercial! God, I love this city. Emma-Stone-Ray-Ban-Clubmastfw550fh550
  2. In case you get pulled over, you already have a lie ready for the cop as to why you haven’t gotten a California driver’s license yet. Though, as of yesterday, this one doesn’t apply to me anymore. And my new picture is AWFUL. When I passed my test, I was pretty excited to take a new photo for my license, and not because it was a bad picture — that picture was taken on my 21st birthday when I had that natural, happy glow you only get on your wedding day and when you can legally drink. TSA agents across this great country have given that photo rave reviews. But because I’m blonde in the picture sometimes I get a little trouble from bouncers, so I was happy to get a new one with my red hair. UNTIL I SAW IT. It’s like some sort of Biggest Loser “before” photo where you think “oh, she’s going to be so beautiful when she loses the weight.” The picture is so close up. I look like a bowling ball with horse teeth.
  3. Up until this week, someone has tried to sell you a Coachella ticket. No, thank you! I don’t want to pay $500 to get date raped in a teepee!63e09e62542d322f6ae4495338a03cc6
  4. You don’t know that when someone asks what you do, “unemployed” or “temp/waitress/receptionist/etc.” are never the right answers. You are either “in between projects” or you’re an “actor/writer/editor/whatever” regardless of whether or not you’re getting paid for it. For the second answer, they will inevitably follow up with, “well, who do you ______ for? Anything I might have seen?” and at that point you can just start exaggerating. While at The Den in West Hollywood a couple weeks ago, I found myself out and out lying about what I did to some guy. Then he told me he was a student at UCLA, and I said BYYYYYYEEEEEEEE as I moonwalked out the door.
  5. You get endless delight from reading street signs and freeway names in a The Californians voice. La Cienegaaaaaaa. tumblr_me6scrlCXa1rnfmydo1_r1_400 That’s really how they talk here!!!!!!

Finding a Job

Hey, you know that kinda recent episode of Girls where Hannah goes middle-class-white-girl crazy and shoves a Q-Tip in her ear due to the stress of having a book deal? If that’s normal and soooo “relatable,” how would a normal person’s stress manifest itself if that person just moved 3,000 miles from home and had to find a job and pay rent? If the stress of getting paid to write a book at age 24 is a Q-Tip, and let’s say single mother making minimum wage and raising two kids is a hot steak knife…then I’d say I’m holding steady at a toddler’s tooth brush stuck firmly into my ear canal. In the grand scheme, it’s just champagne problems, but shut up, I’m Beyonce in my tiny universe, and having no job is stressful!!!

Now that I’m on my own, Girls makes even less sense to me. Why isn’t Hannah constantly talking about rent? If they wanted this show to reflect the feelings of a generation, then their scripts should have just kept alternating the words “rent” and “wine” for 30 pages. That would speak to me!

As of press time, so like, right now, I’m working on a bottle of wine after a long day of job lookin’. A day that was meant to be full of some completely undeserved relaxation, turned into a day of running back in forth through sand trying to get to an interview. That only kind of happened, but feel free to picture me doing that in a neon, wide brimmed sun hat.

b219f9e8a95011e2a22022000a1fc78f_7{This was me just prior to hell breaking loose}

My gal pals and I drove about an hour to Santa Monica for a beach day. Goddammit! I should have known I didn’t deserve a relaxing beach day!!!

Just about the time we got to the promenade, I got an email about a job opportunity that was very time sensitive. So in the ensemble you see above, my roommate and I went to the Apple store to tweak my resume and cover letter. After an hour of me hovered over a Mac laptop in my Coachella reject outfit, I finally sent off my stuff, and strutted to the beach, ready to relax after the stressful hour I had. What an hour.

15 minutes later, my shorts are OFF and my Trader Joe’s organic sunscreen is ON, and I am ready for some professional TLC from the California sun. Until! I get a phone call saying I have an interview and can I be there at 4:30, and of course I can ’cause all I have to do is put my mind to something.

So, my poor friends and I.. my poor, poor friends- May God bless and keep you, Jillian and Caitlin (my friends go by their full names, they are cosmopolitain ladies, THANK YEH). They were such great sports. SO, we run… picture me running through sand in that hat to the car. We finally make it to the other side of town, only so I can spend 15 minutes throwing on my interview outfit and showering in a bath of dry shampoo mist, until I was right back out the door.

For my 45 minute drive back, I meditated on the mantra that greasy hair would not be the determining factor of whether or not I got this job.

And hopefully that is actually true.

My interview happened and it was nearly the most majestic 15 minutes of my life, second only to my experience at Disney World’s Main Street Electrical Parade. Just kidding, it was okay, and I hope I get the job, but I release it into the universe like Deepak Chopra tells me to.

It was a stressful day, but it gave me an excuse to have a burger which I’ve been craving. That burger might end up being a celebratory burger or a depressed burger, but either way I enjoyed the burger. Breathe in, breathe out; rent money is just a man-made construct.

******If you’re in the Los Angeles area, please give me a job.