B-rad I LOVE THESE PEOPLE.
THESE PEOPLE. ARE MY PEOPLE.
The Beatles said it best-
"What would you think if I sang out of tune,Would you stand up and walk out on me.Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song,And I'll try not to sing out of key.Oh I get by with a little help from my friends,Mmm I get high with a little help from my friends,Mmm I'm gonna to try with a little help from my friends"
I have to say there's this bittersweet feeling i'm having and the idea of not seeing these people all the time gives me a bit of a pang in my heart. They've been the "real ones" in my L.A. family. or, they've been my "L.A. FAMILY"
I felt the need for a tribute at the end of a chapter, I had to include the characters.
SCHMAN- She's the one that looks like a pole dancer. I assure you, she is not a poledancer. Not to knock pole dancers, she just isn't one. She's my sister, my hand twin, the regis to my kelly, the salt to my peppa, the junk to my trunk, the yin to my yang (she is half Asian), the jig in my step... etc. etc. And, she's dancing for Bette Midler. Who is my musical theater goddess. She is the 'wind beneath my wings' and does not judge me for finishing an entire pizza, and encourages breadsticks as well. Soulmates.
Nik's, Nikole, Stubborn little biatch, Ice- "Chels, get up off the floor, i'm leaving. Go sleep in my bed." At a particular desolate hour, all of us ladies lived in a two bedroom apt, two of us sharing a living room- I occupied the floor as my sleeping area. And every morning Nikole left before me, she offered me an actual bed, and didnt mind that I took up all of her space- sanity, joy, etc. She's the only Republican I can fairly say I love deeply- besides some of my family members- but that's another blog. (and who loves "The Secret"...?). I love our debates, Rum and Coke, Poker playing, acting, cynical/optimistic highs and lows. You're always welcome on my floor.
Bruuuce- I have perfected my accent because of him. He's the only guy who's allowed to call me stupid, because when said in a thick English accent it sounds almost like a compliment. And I know he means it in the most adoring way of course. The hours spent making stupid inside jokes, calling me ugly, watching Kimora and "stealing" wine are priceless. You'll be Feymous- and I'll be your back-up singer. Now go get me a date, with a certain friend of yours I always ask about, club kid.
Marsh- Aw Marsh. Lets talk about life, and peace, and politics, and energy, and vibes, and creating, and debating, and then lets top it all off with a six pack. Twelve pack? Lets play Sorry, free-form and color for hours with Schman, with the foodnetwork playing in the background. You made my "return" to l.a. worth it, you're like a brother from another mother, the last three years have been quite a journey, a blurry one sometimes? Go create something awesome.
Bradford- I will forever carry lessons on how to be liked by everyone and their mother, and their mothers dog because of this kid. B-rad. Brad dated a girl that was on the Bachelor, he's from Texas, has an unecessarily HUGE truck, plays a lot of beer pong/halo and has a certain affinity for blonde girls, that he'll never, ever, live down (after deciding not to date me). Hahah, i'm glad we're still friends, I still stand by the fact that you're probably the only guy my mom still asks me about. Thanks for letting me talk in an Anchorman voice, no matter how unattractive it may be.
Man, I am one lucky girl. I am proud of these relationships, and the people they are- and let me tell you they are fucking amazing people.
If nothing else. They were absolutley worth my time here. xoxoxo.