Wednesday, August 14, 2013

21 Something (21 and drunk)

I sat with my vintage watch (given by my mother), my vintage sunglasses (thrifted for a $1), my favorite vintage blouse (thrifted for $3.49), and my hair on top of my head in a messy bun (garbage can hair? Priceless). I booked my flight. A present to myself for my 21st birthday (Nov. 11th). In a few short months I will be having my 1st (legal) drink on a 4.5 hour flight to Los Angeles. I will drink a glass of champagne and take a photo for Intagram saying something like "This is 21?" with my tongue out of course (my signature pose). I will sit sipping my over priced glass of toxic allowing everyone to think I am one of those little rich girls with daddy's pocket book. I will spend my 21st birthday... my first legal drink... alone on a flight to the city of dreams (broken dreams). But this is the life I signed up for. I agreed to it all when I signed on the dotted line. My agent smiling as if I had signed away my life to the devil. And I guess that's just what I did. Los Angeles here I come. 21, drunk, and alone. This is what every actor wants. Right?

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