Stage one - I'm never fucking moving to Los Angeles
I'm going to move to the east coast like a baller. I'm going to live in a ridiculously overpriced city in a 380 square foot apartment downtown. I'm going to brag about the public transportation system. I'm going to wear preppy clothes. I'm going to date investment bankers. I am a fucking badass.
Stage two - I have to fucking move to Los Angeles
The assholes from work have transferred me out here. What the fuck am I going to do? I'm going to hibernate in my apartment and stare at pictures of my old east coast life and cry. I'm just going to take a vow of silence until the higher ups have the decency to move me back.
Stage three - First margarita on the beach
Wow, this isn't half bad. The ocean is gorgeous. I like day drinking. There are hot surfers everywhere. I like relaxing
Stage four - Ridiculous house party in Los Angeles
Holy shit I'm in a smoking shack with 12 year olds. My friends are playing croquet in the front lawn. People are wearing beer cases for hats. I'm so fucking stoned out of my mind. Look! It's Rachel Leigh Cook, she's talking to you. You are becoming her best friend. YOU ARE AWESOME
Stage five - I'm never fucking leaving Los Angeles
Never. I would kill a man to stay. This place is amazing.
Stage six - being forced to leave for family events or work
Everywhere else in the world fucking sucks. I feel sorry for these people. Winter is for douche bags.
Stage seven - I love LA so much I'm going to fucking buy a convertible
Even though my car is paid off and I can really use the cash. Even though I only have a fifteen minute commute and rarely leave my LA bubble. I NEED THAT MOTHERFUCKING CONVERTIBLE.
Stage eight - I am now that creepy old lecherous cougar
Damn. Those 25 year old surfer boys still look hot.
