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the whole time, i had "walking in la" by missing persons stuck in my head, but it was too perfect not to sing "christmas in la" instead, to myself.
i went with rickard the swede and his swedish friends, and stayed with some other swedes in venice beach. i heard such interesting things as,
"cocaine, has anyone ever tried it?"
"don't you have any 'system of a down' on your ipod?"
"augh, you 'yumped' on my balls!" (no one understood why this was funny)
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oh ha ha ha, the hilarity just don't stop. during our christmas eve dinner, i decided to say some words (or 'grace' as some say) and thanked everyone for coming together to have a nice holiday when we're all so far away from our families, and making a nice dinner and all that. it was short and sweet, but somehow everyone took it like it was stewart smalley up there trying to make a moment. when i called my family, they were all sitting around together, drinking and watching tv i'm sure. they just kept saying, "what ARE you doing in la with a 21 year old swedish boy? huh?" and my dad asked if he came to la if 21 year old swedish girls would like him. i had glamorized the event in my mind, telling people "i'm going to la for christmas with a swedish teenager", and it was this thing i held up as the way my life goes here in california, and i just better kiss it goodbye when i move to nebraska. but i'd like to make a lesson out of this experience. "christmas in la" is just that. no one told me there'd be "sewage sprayed on you", "not leaving the apt until 3:30pm", and "dealing with the socially inept". what good is being in venice beach with bunch of hot swedish boys if you're just sitting in a darkened room watching "family guy" dvds?(yes, plural). i don't know. i don't want to make it sound like i had a bad time, cuz i didn't. but a lo-light was on christmas day when i got food poisoning from too many meatballs and eggnog gone wrong. what's the lesson? hollywood isn't what its cracked up to be? i feel all strange lately, trying to pack up all my crap, thinking about leaving sf and all the fun i'm supposed to be having. last week i found my second white hair. today i made tasha mad by being mean. why can't i be all sweet and sincere like i was at dinner on christmas eve, talking about how important family is. why can't christmas in la be magical and just like i imagined it.
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