I love it when...
- A friend introduces you to someone you've never seen before but that person pretends to have a history with you. It's best if you play along. Example: Friend: "Lauren, meet my friend André." André: "Oh, I know Lauren - we traveled across the country together back in 2001." Me: "Oh yeah, that was crazy! Especially when the car broke down. Nice to see you again, André."
- My friends and I have picnics on the stoop over-looking 82nd Avenue and pretend it's somewhere scenic.
- The coffee finally kicks in and I write about twelve pages of a theoretical sitcom episode over the course of a couple of hours.
- I realize that I am absolutely surrounded by people that believe in me and my various creative projects.
I hate it when...
- I realize that probably at least half of the people I hang out with only invite me places because I'm the one with the car.
- The smell of the dead fridge wafts down the hallway.
- The noise from 82nd Avenue keeps me awake when I sleep with my window open.
- It becomes clear that I need to move on from this Bohemian mad house and do something slightly more responsible with my life (don't ask me what that would be - I don't know yet...).