First, a bit of housekeeping. I am slowly getting the hang of Twitter. My handle is @RoboSunshineJen. I will follow you if you follow me all the days and nights. . .
I also recently blogged about the Camino over on Girlfriendology. You can go there by clicking here.
And onto the blog post. . .
Lately, I've been feeling alienated in LA, but I try not to let it get me down as I go for long hikes in the Santa Monica Mountains. Recently, this alienation became much more present when I went to a talk about virtual reality and the modern theatre.
I rsvped to the rsvp email. I received a confirmation/please-come email back from Amelia. I showed up five minutes before the start of the talk. Nothing starts on time in LA, so I was early. I went up to the girl with the list at a table by the door.
Jen: Hi, I made a reservation. It's Jen.
List Girl: Joan?
Jen: No, Jen. J-E-N.
List Girl: We don't have you on the list.
Jen: I got a confirmation email from Amelia.
List Girl: Could it be under a different name?
List Girl: Uhm.
(Long pause as List Girl stares blankly at my shoulder for a moment, then looks over at another list on the table.)
Jen: Do you have a second list?
List Girl: No it's the same list.
Jen: (unsure what to do next) So. . . .
List Girl: You can just go in.
Jen goes in pondering the relevance of the list. By the way, the talk was not very good although they did serve sweets afterwards.
Long after I forgot the talk, I continued to think about the list. I have been on both sides of the list. I have been the girl with the list. I have been the girl who made the list. I have been on the list, the friend of someone on the list (have they shown up yet?), and not on the list but willing to pay cash.
Lists, lists, lists. LA is full of lists. Are you on the list? Off the list? What if we just got rid of all the lists?
I'm not an A-lister. I'm not even a B, C, or D-lister. I'm a blister lister. I don't deal well with list friction.
And there were flowers in bloom on my recent hike.