Life is a highway. And sometimes a parking lot.

So I finally arrived in New Mexico at three in the morning Tuesday night. What started off as the Best Road Trip Ever turned into a Hippie Nightmare and there were times I genuinely thought I would not make it through the wilderness. My acquaintance that I'd lined up a ride with told me there was a surprise, but even in my magical world of abundance did I imagine this ride would be a giant double decker tour bus with a kitchen, a patio on the second story, and the most comfortable fold-out couches ever created. But those were our wheels and Day One I was living large.

Day one included a constant stream of delicious food from the kitchen and watching sunsets from the outdoor patio:

And then the next day, somewhere between Flagstaff and the New Mexico border, the bus died. And the last thing you want to have happen in the middle of the summer Arizona heat is have your vehicle die.

So after a day of baller-like glamour, I spent Day Two sweltering in the Petrified Forest National Park parking lot. Sweaty and sticky and not having showered since the trip began, I tried to recreate a shower in the Visitors' Center sink, while overweight ladies from the midwest came in and out and quietly judged my half naked skinny ass, dying as much from the heat as internet withdrawal. All in all, I think I got to spend quality time with that parking lot from approximately 1:30 in the afternoon until almost 9pm.

Not sure exactly why I wanted to commemorate the experience, but dehydration and captivity do weird things to you.

But there were truly wonderful moments. Like when we were exploring and found the Complete Douche Set.

If only it had been the Complete Douche Set of the Soul.

I'm still a little traumatized.

Land of Enchantment

I'm always living in my own land of enchantment, but today I'm going to the official part of the country known as such. I wanted to do a full post before I left, but I have a new friend and hanging out turned out to be a terribly time-consuming affair yesterday. I can't dish, because I already know he's as much of a google stalker as the rest of us. But if I could, it would be good.

Don't f*#k with me. I know people.

Inspired by the lovely Ms. Toew's recent post, I decided to share with you my own fine rejection.

Hi, Gina. So sorry for the dragged out delay with this. In fact, we just resolved the position yesterday, and hired another candidate. I’m sorry this is bad news! Your writing is awesome (in fact, you turned in the strongest writing test). But we needed someone to start at a moment’s notice, and your city transition status put you behind the other candidate. I hope you’re still headed to SF, and if you do, I hope our paths cross again.

All the best,
[name redacted]

Yeah, I was bummed, but a part of me has been really really scared to leave LA, and would have been slightly panicked to suddenly head north in a week. I do love it here. And I was sad, but mostly because I was kind of just ready to have a job. And it was a really cool job. But what I didn't anticipate when I forwarded this to my inner circle last night was that I have people that will seriously go to the mattresses for me. And a word to the wise, when forwarding emails from people that have hurt your feelings, don't include the email address of the offending person. They might just send that person an email like this:

That is so fucking lame!
You go up for the interview at a moments notice and
have friends to stay with. The 5 hour drive is a non
issue.
You're a twat.

Yes, that was sent.

After a bout of extreme professional embarrassment, I realized I've never been so touched. This person really cared and fully went to bat for me. He's an effing bad ass. No one has defended me quite like that. Like a bar brawl but on email. I actually LMAO-ed for a bit.

And don't worry about any ill will that might reflect back onto me. I swiftly added my own volley.

hi there again, [name redacted]!

so i think you might have gotten a snippy email from a friend of mine, which shocked me, embarrassed me, touched me and finally amused me. yes, it was a roller coaster of emotions. it was as if my cat had dragged a dead, mangled bird to my doorstep, and you can't be mad, but you are initially a little horrified.

that said, i have since forwarded your email address to my entire gmail contact list, so be prepared for everyone i've ever emailed at least once in the past four years to chime in.

i've decided to collect a whole arsenal of ridiculously insulting emails (hopefully my mom will pitch in), and after i cull the results for the most outrageous and over-the-top, i will create a live-action internet comedy short based on the material (eliza skinner would), and the resulting viral will be gangbusters to feature on [website i would have worked for]. (i'll even do the tags.)

seriously, all the best and i hope you find the humor in it all. i'm touched honestly. i didn't know he had it in him.
xo, gina

So let me know if you want this dude's email, too. I encourage you to completely go off. I'm ready to get my comedy short going. I've always wanted to be a YouTube sensation.

Anatomy of a lie: A photo essay

I hate lying. I get nervous and fidgety and stare at the ceiling and say "um" a lot.

Although, based on the evidence, I kind of suspect this is exactly what I look like when I have a crush on someone.

Witness Exhibits A-D:


Looking up to the right. Looking up and to the right stimulates the part of the brain associated with imagination (that is, making things up), whereas looking up and to the left stimulates the part of the brain associated with recalling memories (that is, telling the truth).



No eye contact. A lot of information is conveyed through eye contact, and most people have an extremely hard time lying to someone while looking directly into his eyes.



Stress gestures (rapid blinking, scratching, itching, swallowing, fidgeting, etc.). If discovered, a deception carries much greater risk of punishment than simply telling the truth, and people understand this. This uncomfortable situation will make them uncomfortable, and they will act accordingly.



Wide-eyed, innocent look. Another product of childhood fibs, based on the “who, me?” fake innocence usually associated with a kid denying he has his hand in the cookie jar while it is still in there.



Of course this comes with a great big whopper.

More decisions, decisions

Here's another career opportunity I'd like to run up the flagpole for my dear, special readers to weigh in on...What do y'all think about a topless scene in a major motion picture? The money isn't THAT amazing (you know like a hundred thousand dollars or something), but I'd get to be in a Huge Studio Film! Playing opposite a STAR!!

I can't give the breakdowns, them's confidential. But let's say the star is less Clive Owen, more Ryan Reynolds. (Though it's not actually Ryan Reynolds.) And my bosoms would be bared, which is a hard pill to swallow when you have a mother out there and the crazy desire that you want your feature film debut to be clothed.

So, really, I've made up my mind, but your thoughts on these funny things that somehow always seem to find me would delight me to no end.

It's so hard to say good-bye

Good-bye, Hipster Shed. You are without a doubt the coolest place I have ever lived. You were there for me when I needed you and I will never forget our time together. I will miss you. But I know in my heart, it's time to move on.