Volume I, Issue 23
November 10 - November 17, 1997

Don't ask me why, but I spent the last few days in Los Angeles trying to restore my sanity after my best friend, Robyn, shunned me (see last week for the pathetic details). "I'm not going to let Robyn keep me from having a good time," I told myself. Then I proceeded to spend a killer weekend in the Land of Angels. A killer weekend.

Friday night was weird. While attending a dance performance, I got kicked out due to the bleating beeps of my Tamagotchi (it was hungry, okay?). And the policeman leading me out was scary -- I thought for sure I might be beaten! Fortunately he just snickered and told me to be careful driving on the freeway. Yeah, right! If Robyn were there, I'll bet she would have told him to stick a yam up his butt. You can always count on Robyn for something outrageous.

On Saturday morning I decided to do some people watching, so I went skating down Venice Beach. I didn't go far before I saw all these big, muscular men lifting weights in the sand. Hello! The sight of all that beefcake made me feel gloomy, though, since I immediately wanted to share the experience with Robyn. And she was not there. Were you ROBYN?

Holding back tears, I ducked into this "art" shop where they had all these sexy nude sculptures. That only made it worse! Without Robyn there to crack jokes, I felt like I was looking at dirty pictures. I left quickly, without so much as an ogle. See what a saint I am without Robyn? How boring.

Walking back to my car, I was totally crying, the tears streaming down my face like raindrops on a woman's face or something. Everyone on Venice Beach was looking at me. "Ha ha, look at the dumb woman bawling," they probably thought. I wished I'd had sunglasses, or better yet, a mask. I wished I had my good friend Robyn!

Okay, so I lied. Maybe I didn't have such a killer time in Los Angeles. Maybe I'd have been better off sitting and home looking up, like, Renaissance art on my computer and relaxing. Maybe I'd even have been happier in some dumb place like Kentucky. I don't know. Whatever. Where are you Robyn? It's been over a week now. Call me?

Now What?
A gallery of captivating links to keep your imagination churning while the paint dries. [16]

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