I went to get sushi for lunch by myself, seated next to a pompous Hollywood "big wig", within perfect range of dropping some eaves. He was parading his false sense of importance to a robust, and oddly quiet lady friend who merely grunted at his tales of self-importance. A script that needs to get delivered to Julianne Moore and the value of the Euro.
I felt sad for that woman. I feel sad for me; someone like that is going to be my boss some day. I love the industry.
I wasted the day watching horror flicks and youtubing clips from Murder She Wrote (after going to my classes, of course).
If that doesn't make me cool, I don't know what does!
And now I've just done something completely embarrassing.
I can never show my face to Renee ever again.
Must go live in shame now.
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