I am in one of my two favorite places to chill when I have nothing else to do.  Studio City. I love it here. It relaxes me. Almost as much as Burbank town center.  Which relaxes me almost as much as buying new clothes from Lululemon.  Which I of course did today; I'm building up quite the wardrobe of functional ass pants.  I'm going to have to work out the rest of my life to justify all the money I spend at Lulu. I don't get it. I spent half an hour pacing an aisle at Target, arguing with myself about wether or not I needed to spend 15 or 25 dollars on a hairdryer.  I'm like "If I don't know what an ionizer is, does that make it not valuable, just because I'm ignorant?"   I went with the 15 dollar one (without the ionizer), so I guess I'll have to wait till I run my new one under the faucet again before I'll be have to confront this dilemma one more time.  So 10 minutes after I almost made myself sick with stress over how cheap I wanted to buy the hairdryer I would spend the next two years with, I walk over to Lulu and spend $170 on the first outfit I try on.  And even as I write this, I totally don't regret it.  The jacket is beautiful. I love who I am when I wear it.

I just came from the Arclight  Cinema in Sherman Oaks, CA. I was there watching a movie, when ALL OF THE SUDDEN, the fire alarms go off, and we are instructed to evacuate the building. Mobs of air-sniffing movie goers packed themselves out of the building and into the line-waiting car hell that became the parking garage.  Never saw the fire, never smelt the fire, but we decided not to wait to see if they'd let us back in. We decided we'd just call tomorrow and forcefully beg for reparations in the way of refunds and free tickets. So that's why I'm in Studio City watching the Asian lady scrub off my calluses , and planning where to buy the latte I'll be drinking in 20 minues