Thursday, Nov. 27, 2008 4:55 p.m.

moving on

On my sidekick and as I predicted. Typing becuase it gives me something justifiable to do while the guys are shooting with their fake guns in their quadrant of the screen.

I brought a book along. Snuck it along is more like it, as I know K would've made a big deal of it and not let me had he really been paying attention. It reminds me of being a kid and my mom getting mad at me when I didn't want to be social when company was over.

I'm larthegic from a full belly and two and a half drinks and our friend's warm apartment. I want to go to sleep and wait til I'm somewhere else, doing something else. But I can't.

At least I'm ignored. At least I'm not expected to be one of them, finding enjoyment in a stupid shootem-up video game. I can hide behind my phone, in my own world as they are theirs.

I know I'm supposedly "too young" as compared to everyone else that works in Hollywood, but I'm ready to move on to a new stage of my life now.

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