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Sunglasses and the Occult

April 9, 2011

I decided to branch out from my schedule of eating, yoga/hiking, working, auditioning and watching HBO shows online and go out for drinks after work on Friday[‘s lunch shift] with two co-restaurant slaves. It was 2:30 pm and I was two beers and half a basket of sweet potato fries deep, so naturally conversation was getting interesting. Side note: they were garlic sweet potato fries, and if you EVER get a chance to go to Cole’s in downtown LA, order them. Immediately.

This is the point in the day that I either decide that I hate the people I am with and thus, no longer give a unicorn’s horn what I say, or when I decide that they are my new favorite people and finish the rest of the second beer, apologize for being a lightweight, and then, also give up trying to sound cool and just run my mouth. So, really, there’s no difference in my behavior if I hate you or love you, except if I am appalled by you I’ll probably be funnier to be around. Because I’ll make fun of you.

SO. I was enjoying the company of the masculine half of the party and generally just perplexed by my female companion. It was at this point, when we were discussing the general demeanor of the population of Santa Monica (slightly obsessed with spiritualism, yoga, Eastern religion, and Lululemon apparel), that my little ginger friend, wearing her red sunglasses, inside a basement bar, said,

“That’s why I’m a solo[ar]  practicing witch”

Screech. I’m sorry what?

“What did you say?”, I asked, gathering my jaw back up off of the table, “You’re a solar practicing witch?”

“No. I said I’m a solo-practicing witch.”

“Oh. Sorry”, I said, “I haven’t been able to hear you since you put your sunglasses on.”

Would anyone like to buy me a plane ticket back to reality?

Another side note: I should mention that when I was about eleven, maybe twelve, a friend and I decided that we wanted to be witches (obviously this was back when Alyssa Milano was strangling demons with her mind on Charmed), went to a 99 cent store, bought black candles, told everyone we were Wiccan now, and consulted ye olde Ouija board for the majority of a weekend. So obviously, I am TOTES not discriminating against those of you practicing witchcraft. I’ve been there. I spoke to the ghost of James Dean once from a basement in suburban Pennsylvania.

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