Color Me Your Color, Baby.

Well, we’re now up to the latter half of season 10 of Friends, and the apartment is slowly coming together. All furniture (aside from my bed) has been sold or donated, my kitchen has been emptied of all food and pots and pans, and stacks of papers, books, and DVDs lean precariously throughout my little studio. Yes, Dear Readers, I know: this all must be just fascinating for you.

Okay, okay... here's a little Hollywood bitchiness for you, one last hurrah before I start going on and on about Africa and the Peace Corps and kissing babies and my impending run for Congress in 2021. I’m sure many of you are familiar with the famed flakiness of Californians, and Angelenos in particular... Now, I ain't being a hater when I say this, because, honestly, it's all true. And boy, is it hitting home for me, now more than ever. You see, on top of packing and my other preparations to leave LA, I am also attempting to schedule last-minute, last-time hang-out sessions with many friends and acquaintances all over town. These very nice people are threatening me with everything up to (and including) castration if I leave without hanging with so-and-so one more time, but when I try to nail these eager friends down on a specific time or even DAY, I get the ol' "Yeah, I might be free sometime later in the week... Dude, you should totally call me!" Dude. I been callin', I been textin', in one case I even holla'd. Seriously, I really don't have the time to play these fun little Hollywood mind games right now. If you want to see me before I leave town, how about this: you call me.

Man, if only I had another 2 months left in town, so we could do this little dance properly: you have your assistant pencil me in for a lunch sometime 3 weeks from now (no, I'm not available anytime before then, it's impossible), we'll reserve a table at Spago; I'll reschedule the morning of, because I'm absolutely swamped with the responsibilities of my powerful, incredibly demanding job; but maybe we can move lunch to sometime next week (of course we can't, because now it's your turn to cancel, so you don't look too eager or unpopular). A month-and-a-half from now, you say? Something just opened up? Fabulous, hook it up! (But call back in a minute, so you can tell my assistant, because I don't deal with the scheduling.) But let's not do Spago - too trendy, too many industry types there... shall we say Barney Greengrass? Oh, and I'll bill it to the company, but I'm going to have to change your title to executive vice president, because it looks just a tad more impressive to those snoops in Accounting. Love you, mean it, ciao. Now... when should we have drinks?

Ah, I'm really going to miss this place.

-Dabbler

P.S. Points to anyone who gets the reference in the title.

P.P.S. Without googling it.