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Los Angeles | dooce® | Page 3 dooce® » I'm Heather B. Armstrong. This is my website. » Los Angeles

I’m a Slave 4 U(nemployment)

I’ve cleaned every surface in this apartment: every tile, every crevice, every hidden corner littered with dust bunnies the size and attitude of Texas. Alas, I’ve nothing left to clean. I always said that I’d strip this place bare once I had the free time to do so, much like I’d strip the sleeves from [...]

9021-Ho

You should have seen this woman. You wouldn’t have believed it. I didn’t believe it at first. But this is Los Angeles; the entire economy hinges on a collective suspension of disbelief. I was on my way to meet an old friend for lunch in Santa Monica. There’s no easy way to get to Santa [...]

Four Twenty

I’ve never been very good with drugs. You might think a former Mormon would be good at drugs — yea, a born natural — but I’m not. My friend, Joe, however, is. I guess that’s not entirely true. I mean, I don’t even know if he’s tried any of the major drugs, the drugs they [...]

Stand By Me

I saw the real Erin Brockovich this morning, and remarkably, she looked nothing like the real Julia Roberts. Erin, that’s what I call her, passed me on her way down The Stairs this morning. She smelled like raspberries and hairspray. I tried not to make it obvious to everyone else on the staircase that I [...]

Neighbor

Someone downstairs is taking a shower, right now. I know they know that I shower at the same time every morning, this time, this moment right now, and I can’t understand why they would choose to shower when they know that I’m usually showering right this instant. I bet it’s the girl who lives directly [...]

Recipe for Jack and Coke at the Beloved Blurbodoocery

PREP: Wake up at 5:30 AM and drive 12 miles in light traffic to a crowded public staircase where the beautiful people of Hollywood pay personal trainers to kick their flabby SAG asses up and down a grueling 170 stairs. Snicker as you pass the Tori Spellings, Andie MacDowells, and various odd commercial extras you [...]

Dear Cranky Old Bitch Who Cut in Front of Me at Canter’s Deli

I am supposed to write and tell you that I am sorry for calling you a “rude old crag” in front of the ten people you so casually jumped in front of while waiting in line at Canter’s Deli last evening. I’ve been told I should apologize for the way I called attention to your [...]

Cold Feet

Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat. Dooce is wearing wool socks and a fleece-lined beanie hat. Los Angeles may never know temperatures below 60 degrees Fahrenheit, but the American Holiday Season demands that I spend a significant number of my vacation days in climates directly suited for 400-pound polar bears. Three years ago [...]

Dirge Diggler

When I look out the window of my boss’s office, which I can see through one of the translucent panes of my cubicle sitting 30 feet away, I see the smoky silhouette of the Santa Monica Mountains bleeding an ocean of headlights they call the 405. Los Angeles is experiencing weather this evening. Local meteorologists [...]

How About I Take That Ticket and Shove It Up Your Ass

On a small stretch of the Pacific Coast Highway between the Pacific Palisades and the Santa Monica Pier, a lone Patrolman straddled a marked motorcycle, smiling in sinister merriment as unsuspecting commuters flew through a 45mph reduced speed zone. He couldn’t wait to catch the next evil-doing law-breaker, and so his swollen wrists trembled eagerly [...]