Independence.

This morning I woke up to an article that Liz e-mailed to me from Boston.com about some slightly off-kilter 50-something MIT-educated chemist lady terrorizing the Suffolk students in her Beacon Hill apartment building by pouring chemicals everywhere before barricading herself in the apartment, resulting an an evacuation of the building a la The Great 50 Garden Street Fire of 2007 and I thought to myself, for the billionth time: Man, I wish I were in Boston right now.

Further adding to my Boston ache is the fact that, when one is in Massachusetts for Independence Day, it's awesome, whereas Los Angeles sort of, well, LA-ifies the holiday. Dumbs it down a little while increasing the d-bag level tenfold. In case anyone thinks that this is just me being closed minded and pessimistic, behold the proof: 

Fourth of July activities as listed on Boston.com: New England is filled with historic locales, from revolutionary battlegrounds to a famous baseball park.What better time to explore these national treasures than on a national holiday? So drop that hot dog and do some something a bit more patriotic this Fourth of July. You may be surprised at what you find — and learn.

• Boston's Freedom Trail is the country's first historic walking tour. Discover 16 important sites and two-and-a-half centuries of America's past. Stops along the trail include Paul Revere's home - the oldest building in downtown Boston - and the Old North Church - the city's oldest church.

• Explore the oldest commissioned ship afloat in the world, the USS Constitution. Nicknamed, "Old Ironsides," the ship has been around since 1797 and played an important role in the War of 1812.

• Take a guided tour of Fenway Park and experience New England's rich baseball history. From the press box to the Green Monster, visitors get a peek behind the scenes of "America's Most Beloved Ballpark."

• The Baseball as America exhibit at the Museum of Science in Boston depicts how the country's favorite pastime has affected history. Featuring a special section highlighting baseball in Boston, the exhibit runs through Sept. 1.

And then of course there's the obvious choice of a brilliant, free Boston Pops concert on the Esplanade. Seriously, thinking about it hurts my heart. And because I apparently only love masochism...

Fourth of July Activities as listed in LA.com's article, When Fireworks Aren't Enough: 

Halfway through the four-day work week and we're sure that, like us, you are still weighing out your Independence Day options.  Which sounds more appealing: flocking to LA beaches, stadiums, or coliseums with the thousands of fireworks-seeking families or indulging in the BBQ & illegal fireworks display at the house party of your choice?  There is, of course, a third option (the one we're leaning towards) — drink in the name of democracy and pledge your allegiance to one of the parties below.  

• The Super Naughty Pool Party
  When: Friday, July 4th 1-8pm
  Where: The Standard Downtown Rooftop
  Why: Local DJ faves Mike B (LAX Banana Spilt Sundaes), Blu Jemz, and Jonny Boy will be joined by NYC's Unemployed Lloyd.  Oh, and that wet t-shirt contest might be all kinds of awesome, too. 

• Soft-Opening of Kress Hollywood
  When: Friday, July 4th 9:30pm-2am
  Where: 6608 Hollywood Blvd., Hollywood (across from Geisha House)
  Why:  This sure-to-be A-list haven will open its doors to the public (read: the uber-gorgeous and connected) for a soft-opening this Friday.  The four-story nightlife masterpiece will have its grand opening next weekend, when LA partyers are back from vacay and can create the opening night clusterf**k that a venue like Kress deserves.

•  Gridlock at The Queen Mary
  When: Friday, July 4th 10am-12am
  Where: The Queen Mary, Long Beach
  Why: Enjoy carnival rides and A-list performances from Ray J, Colby O'Donis, Girlicious and a surprise platinum artist after the 9pm spectacular fireworks show. 
  Tickets: General Admission Adults: $44.95, Children: $21.95 (ages 5-12), children under 5 years old are free.  VIP Admission: $94.95 (includes line-cutting privileges for carnival rides and a dinner buffet)
  
  
• Independence Day at The Backyard
  When: Friday, July 4th 10pm-4am
  Where: The Backyard at the W Hotel, Westwood
  Why: Not your typical 4th of July backyard BBQ, in a good way.  A hip pool party on the westside with sounds provided by DJ Marshal Barnes and DJ Politik.
  

So there you have it. I don't think I need to say much more, except for that I know one thing. Once I've done whatever it is that I came here to do, I will sprint back to Boston so fast and never give it a second thought.

Analgesic.

My temporary job, I have decided, is to watch all the movies that I have here in L.A. with commentary and add to my growing stock of useless movie trivia. It's going really well.

In addition to this, I have also gotten very passionate about developing a schedule of things to do in order to make each day [of unemployment] count, a la Jack Dawson. I bake things. I write things like cover letters and short stories and blog entries (HEY OH). I have completed Veronica Mars in its entirety, which was pretty great and am now moving on to Heroes. I clean things. I sign up for catalogues. I make lists. I make repeated, unsuccessful attempts at turning Los Angeles into a walking city. I purge my hard drive. I attempt to cure things like the inexplicable leg rash that I have been combatting for a few days now (my list of possible causes: an allergy to either North Hollywood air, unemployment, or the fact that my family is currently in Nantucket and I am not) with various "analgesics". I wonder about things like why topical hydrocortisone cream has to be called an analgesic and why I couldn't have just gone to college for something delightfully normal with tons of job security, like medicine or education. I read. I snack. I attempt to get Wii Fit to balance out all the snacking. I correspond via snail mail. I color and on Wednesdays I go to Jamba Juice for a fix.

It's a busy life, I'll tell you. Hopefully one day soon I'll be griping about how exhausted I am and how I'd kill for a day off of my grueling career and blah blah blah.

Sexy.

According to the oh-so-eloquent Sexy vs. Skanky list in the July issue of Cosmopolitan, it is considered "sexy" to post your resume on a job finding website. 

My instant reaction to this addition to the list (it fell just under the equally sexy activity of "looking for baby bumps on stars like Amy Poehler", which I'm not even going to touch right now) was confusion. There is no way that posting your resume on a job finding website is remotely sexy. It's desperate, sure. But sexy? No way. Then I remembered that this is Cosmopolitan we're talking about, a publication that relies on desperate women for survival. It hurts me to imagine the person that reads Cosmopolitan's Sexy vs. Skanky list and thinks, "YES. You know what? YES. Oh my God, David Beckham's sporty pants ARE sexy, whereas Joey Fatone's workout ensemble is pure skank" or "What? It's sexy to post my resume on Monster.com? SIGN ME UP." Especially because, in my experience with job finding websites, you rarely get responses from them. I'm not sure what Cosmo's stance on unemployment is.

All that aside, I would like to point out that in the past month I have ONLY posted my updated resume on online job finding websites. I'm just saying.

Dirty.

Until yesterday, my car had not been cleaned since Liz and Eleanor decided to throw a couple quarters in a self-serve car wash and cleanse its exterior of about 2,000 miles worth of American soil before rolling into Las Vegas. That was in January. Until yesterday, my poor Civic had about five months worth of Los Angeles filth caked on it. 

At the car wash, I learned another new thing about L.A. In Massachusetts, drive through car washes involve robots. Here, there are Mexicans instead. Everything else is the same - car in neutral, little assembly line of water and soap and sponges - except at every station a team of little men attack the car. That was a surprise. Bottom line, they do a phenomenal job and my reason for hesitating to have my car washed for all these months is coming into play: I don't want it to get dirty again. I really hate those stupid car covers that jerks who only love their vehicles tuck them under every night, but I'm sorry to say that I'm starting to see the logistics behind them. 

It is very hot here. I'm starting to get over that Don't Waste A Beautiful Day Guilt that  I acquired over 22 years in New England. It's perfectly fine and necessary to stay inside and watch TV on DVD when the alternative is dying of heatstroke and having your shoes melt to the pavement.

Busy.

Tonight, while baby-sitting - if it can still be considered baby-sitting when the "baby" in question is actually a ten year old with a maturity level and vocabulary that surpasses a fair amount of my peers - we watched The Fresh Prince of Bel Air and Home Improvement on Nick at Nite and Olivia was thoroughly impressed when I told her that I watched both of those shows when they were actually new episodes. It's weird that kids today are watching The Fresh Prince of Bel Air like I used to watch The Cosby Show or Gilligan's Island. 

Since I'm still unemployed, I find myself spacing out the things that I need to get done so that every day I have something that needs to be done. Par example, today I accompanied Ray and Natale to the impound lot so that Ray could assess the damage of his car, which got totaled a week ago when an uninsured drunk man slammed into it while it was parked on the street. Yesterday Natale and I walked to the grocery store and made soup videos, and on Sunday I Drain-Oed my drains. Tomorrow I have big plans to deposit some checks and celebrate Day 8 of the Seven Day Soup Regimen (aka, eat brownies and cereal) and at some point, I really need to speak to someone about the fact that my toilet is running. Really. All pranks aside, it's running. Not over, it just sounds like someone with the world's largest, fullest bladder is constantly peeing, which cannot be good for the water situation in these parts.

I. Need. A. Career. Immediately.

Wagon.

Fact.

There is a reason why the biggest part of the original food pyramid is constituted of bread, grains, and cereals. It's because they are the best and most delicious foods and as such, are needed in order to happily survive.

I'm sorry, does that seem irritable? It's to be expected. Allow me to explain. I am currently wrapping up Day 5 in a seven day vegetable soup weight loss experiment and I haven't eaten bread or cereal or cupcakes since Day 1, when I dove off the wagon after 8 hours and went to Carl's Jr. with Alison, my enabler. 

Before I continue my analysis, I would like to clarify that this is not a cry for attention or reassurance. I know I'm not obese. I realize how lucky I am to have a metabolism that, thankfully, runs faster than I do so that I don't have to. I also know what a sad day it will be for me if/when it gives out, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. 

Anyway. My reasons for accepting the Leahy Clinic "Diet" Challenge are threefold

1. I am currently unemployed, therefore I welcome anything that brings some sort of structure into my life.

2. I am currently unemployed, therefore by only eating vegetable soup and the rotating schedule of random fruits and vegetables per day, I save money by not buying impulse snacks or going out to eat.

3. Overall curiosity. I'm horrible at commitment and I only love the bottom layer of the food pyramid. Plus, metabolism or no, who wouldn't want to lose a few pounds? This is pretty much the only way, given my disdain for running and aforementioned lack of funds with which to take up ballet again, the only form of exercise that I have ever enjoyed.

So since it's Day 5, I've passed the point of no return. I can't let myself quit now, two days away from completion with only one wagon tumble. But really, diets like this are ridiculous, mainly because what do you think I will do on Day 8? Obviously I will eat macaroni and cheese and peanut butter and brownies and Frosted Mini Wheats with unreasonable fervor because I've been dreaming about those things for the past five days. And where will that get me? Right back to square one. Fulfilling my need for the brownies that I only want right now will probably undo and then some whatever I manage to accomplish during this week of vegetables and soup and fruit and bananas.

I just find stuff like this amusing. When you think you're doing something great for yourself, it really just causes a huge backfire that would never have happened if you hadn't done the great thing in the first place. I'm not sure if this rule applies to everyone or just people like me, stereotypical heads of the pecking order who have no one older than them to learn from or compare their lives to, aside from their parents. Yeah. I used to compare what I had accomplished at a given age to what my mother accomplished by that same age, until it occurred to me that she got married on her 22nd birthday while I got dumped on mine. That's when I realized it was probably time to reevaluate. (Truth be told, at this particular juncture I'd rather be dumped than married, but that's beside the point. It's all about the irony.)

At the very least, it's good to know that the universe isn't 

ignoring me. I will continue to be irritable until I can start my days with cereal instead of noodle-less minestrone soup.