The Friendship Problem

Finding friends is like dating, except harder. And more necessary.

I had no idea how lucky I was to have people living in the same house as me in college. Living with the girls below was like having constant entertainment and companionship. What I’d give to go back to that big, crazy house…


When I moved to LA last July, I only had a handful of friends out here. Like any naive college kid with a hefty number of people in her phone’s contact list, I assumed I’d easily pick up more friends as soon as I arrived in my new(ish) city. Having spent three summers out here prior to making the permanent move, I was confident in my ability to find fun people to spend time with in a totally unromantic, strictly platonic way. I thought it’d be easy to make a whole bunch of friends who I could hang out with whenever I wanted, just like when I was in college.

I was wrong.

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On Love and Netflix

I can’t sleep at night. This is probably due to my inherent anxiety problem and the fact that I’ve gotten into the terrible habit of having my Netflix run as I attempt to drift off. According to my doctor, stimulation from a screen is the worst thing you can put into your brain before attempting a trip to snooze city. Whoops.

Because I always have a TV show running in the background when I’m doing something, or in the foreground when I’m not, I’ve become committed to a few particular shows. What I realized recently — as I made my nightly attempt to quiet my brain and force it into slumber — is that the way I watch television is quite similar to the way I see men.

You probably think these are about to be the ramblings of an insomniac, and they are. Still, I can’t help but notice how the way I watch particular shows mimics the way I see different individuals or groups of dudes who I’ve known in the past, or know to exist somewhere out in the world.

This might seem like a long shot but at least it gives you the chance to judge me on the types of TV shows I watch. And the kinds of men I befriend and/or date.

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When It Rains, It Pours

I got a job today. Hold your applause.

After moving to LA in July 2013, I never expected to be relatively unemployed (save for some freelance) until March 2014. I’ve probably done 25 interviews and 50 meetings. Maybe more. I’ve also sent hundreds of emails and made dozens of phone calls. Not only that, but I’ve reached out to tons of people on LinkedIn, Twitter, and Facebook. Connecting in all these ways hasn’t paid off until today. I’m exhausted from the job search and I’m so relieved that it’s over. I worked hard to get this new job, dammit!

My new boss isn’t the only one who’s liking what I’m selling lately, though. My Ok Cupid profile has been exploding with messages for the past couple weeks. I think I’ve been asked out by five different guys in just a few days. I don’t know why this sudden change has occurred. I’ll admit I’ve messed around with my photos, but could that really be it? Maybe dudes are suddenly receiving some kind of cosmic message that I’m finally well-adjusted(ish) and that I’m fun and somewhat charming. Here are the pictures I have posted now. Is there something particularly alluring about them? Other than the fact that my head is in the same position in almost every single one?

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Screen shot 2014-03-05 at 2.57.29 PMDidn’t think so.

I wish I could explain all this newfound attention I’m getting from both the industry and the dating profile. But I can’t. I’m actually so overwhelmed by both that I don’t even know what to do with myself. Celebrate? Cry? Call people? Go back to bed? What? Am I happy? Yes. But am I terrified? Also, yes. My life is changing so quickly! I may be going on more grown-up dates after I spend the day at my grown-up job. Who am I?

My first day of work is tomorrow. My first date with one of my suitors is Friday. Even though I’m not entirely interested in dating right now, I couldn’t say no because he’s British. I’m hoping all my newfound success means that I’m finally doing something right with my young life and I ¬†hope it stays.

For now, though, I’m going to treat myself the Tom Haverford and Donna Meagle way, with a few cupcakes and some fine leather goods. Meet me at The Grove, it’s goin’ down.


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