“Oh, I’d say that I look anywhere from 45-53 years old”

That is a direct quote from my father.  Who is 64 y.o.  This is what he said to the President of the talent agency with whom we met on Thursday.  After my father told me that I had to pretend to be 30 so as to keep up this charade.  (I’m 37, in case you don’t know.)  So. Fucking. Bizarre. 

First, my father does not look “45″.  Except in his mind.  So delusional.  Nor do I look 30.  Luckily, since the talent agency guy was a typical Hollywood douchebag type, I think that he was also lying about his age and didn’t seem to find anything that weird about my dad’s comment.  Thus, the reason I need to leave L.A.  If I asked “how old are you” and you responded with an age range, I would think you were a loon from the Land of Loons.  Only in Hollyweird.

Second, I kept forgetting I was supposed to be 30 and slipping up.  Especially when introduced to Hollywood dude’s 26 y.o. “artist” gf (this guy says he’s 48 but I would bet he’s at least mid-50s).  He kept making comments about me and the “artist” being in the same age range.  The “artist”, in the meantime, was trying to get me involved in some totally crazy conversation about how her and her friends used to choke each other in high school until they passed out and was wondering if that’s something I did with my friends in h.s. as well. 

I reiterate:  I think I need to move.

Don’t Call It a Comeback

Best opening line of a song, ever, btw.  Don’t have too much time to blog since my friend, Kim from AZ is coming into town tonight.  However, just when I felt like I was at the end of my proverbial rope, things are looking up.  Way up.

1.  I’ve been contacted to run the sports division of one of the top 10 talent agencies in the U.S.; and

2.  I’ve also had a first interview and am having lunch next week with this very cool partner from a Dallas law firm opening an office in L.A.  I would basically fun their office.  And it’s a pretty silly amount of money.

There may be a way I can actually do both positions.  The first job is already mine … I’m just trying to figure out how to structure the agreement.  The second job appears to be mine but I need to close the deal this week.  The partner is super fucking rad, though.  Awesome, cool, lesbian woman.  I’ll be drowning in a sea of lesbianism between work and home.  That’s o.k. with me, though; better than drowning in a sea of douchiness.  Plus, most law firms are sadly, still pretty fucking sexist.  At least I know that won’t be an issue in this case.  AND … best of all … one of her bff’s from h.s. is the director of  … TWILIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  If you think I’m not going to parlay this relationship into getting some serious Twilight swag, you don’t know me very well.  Deb, I know you’re jealous.  You should be. 

Anyway, more to come.  BUT … a big big big thank you to everyone who has been there for me when things weren’t so great for me as of late.  You know who you are.  xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo.