This is the true story of a little girl who lived among dead bodies and a very strange family. From the time she was six, she knew she wanted to be on stage, even if the very first stage she appeared on was a big shipping case for caskets. Years later, she moved to LA to pursue a career in entertainment, which proved to be weirder than the funeral home…
Yes, that’s me talking about me. Right now, I’m writing from my apartment in North Hollywood, otherwise known as “Little Mexico,” and although I’ve never seen a sign that says “Little Mexico”, I know where I am. I know this because I’ve lived in the San Fernando Valley for about ten years after spending ten years in Hollywood, after spending 20 years in my family’s funeral home in Philadelphia. I moved to the valley because the rent is cheaper and I love Mexicans…except for the ones with leaf blowers.
That’s not racist, I just hate noise pollution…just like I hate white guys who ride loud motorcycles. What’s the difference between a Harley Davidson and a vacuum cleaner?
The dirt bag is on the inside of the vacuum cleaner. I wish I could take credit for that joke, but I heard it a long time ago.
Anyway, I moved to LA 20 years ago to pursue a career in entertainment as a performer and writer, and in that time, I’ve specifically worked as a dancer, singer, actress, comedian and writer, and have also had lots of day jobs to keep me from living under the freeway, including delivering telegrams dressed as a gorilla.
My current day job is as a writer, but my first job in LA was working at the counter of a crepe place on Santa Monica Boulevard in West Hollywood. I thought it was strange that a crepe place was run by Asians. They fired me after my first day because I didn’t smile enough. Crepes are stupid.
Depending on which one of my blog posts you read, you will hear a different story about either growing up in the funeral home or about living in Hollywood, including celebrities I’ve met or chased down the street (yeah, I chased Gene Kelly down the street which you can read about later), the weird jobs I’ve had and other crazy shit. And there’s a lot of crazy shit…like when you’re smoking pot and two Scientologists knock on your door. No, not Tom Cruise and John Travolta.
*stay tuned, every day will be different, just like life in Hollywood……*