hear. tak e th is and go to sleepmy love.

I thought about his face and the way his pock-marked cheeks framed his laugh lines. I had always examined them when we kissed. My eyes glaring on the flesh covering his. I wondered what he thought of my younger, naked body pressed against him, his thighs- shaking between his arms. That grip. That grip: Intoxicating. Strong. Wrapped around me at the base of a staircase where my knees buckled after a kiss. In this moment (that moment). After (these) thoughts- I hope that you are on your way to becoming famous. Dating the woman you rightfully deserve. You are amazing. But so am I. Let's meet again sometime. I won't tell your band that you wished for them to be over so that you could pursue something new. I'll make that our secret. I like that, sometimes, you were candid with me. I won't tell anyone about how much I thought that you were the one- of one of them.

*I forgot to mention that I'm working on some drunken fictional pieces called "Inner Monologues for Men I've Loved."

undeveloped.

a mouth like a heart
pulsating, blood red, hungry
swollen but empty.

a haiku before some (more) solo beach action.

why i'm here.

taken at a beach in malibu.

I don't feel crazy for this at all.

this is the boulevard.

I decided to make a huge adventure effort to visit a friend in Atwater Village, last night, around 9 P.M. I'd ridden in a car through the town once, and felt rather confident in getting to the general area.



Fairly easy trip. Take the 4 Bus to Sunset Blvd and Park Ave. Take 2nd bus from Glendale Ave and Reservoir Street.

ONE SMALL PROBLEM OCCURS.

When I exit the bus at what I think is Park Ave., I soon learn that the bus has let me off at ECHO Park Ave. This is a little further west than I want to be. I wander along the edge of the pond (??) that is in the middle of Echo Park and encounter cat calls for the first time since arriving in LA. I soon find the 92 bus that I am suppose to board. Upon entering the bus, I try avoid fearing the vato-loco vibe I am getting from the shaved-head Mexicans staring back at me.

Did I just sit in a seat moist from pee?

I walk to the driver to ask about where the next stop in the opposite direction is, fore I have realized that I am going downtown, when I should be heading east. Aware of the area, the driver alerts me that I should get off two stops down, where it is a slightly more well lit.

Shit. There's my opposite-direction ride now. A honk leads to nothing. I cross to the street and wait.

I risk, at the stop along the side of the highway being robbed, or worse. If you own a vagina, you know what I'm getting at. I realize that waiting for an hour in this spot will be just as bad as getting into a car with a stranger. Thankfully a cab comes along. I explain to him that I don't have any money, but am I simply trying to get somewhere slightly less desolate. He drives me to Glendale and Berkeley.

None of this makes sense to you. I know. But it was the equivalent of walking to the J at Gates at 3 a.m. for the first time. Alone. It's just something you'd rather not do.

I give in, I ask for help (again). My friend arrives to usher me to safety in Atwater Village. I realize how much work this city is going to take. I still feel prepared.

overheard in the angels.

In Los Angeles everyone drives. EVERYONE. Except for teenagers and Latinos from Downtown. On a recent trip to Downtown LA, I sat behind two young girls, boarding the bus just after school. With a clear sight-path to one of their cellphones, I witnessed this series of texts:

I've made boys cry and there are boys that are scared of me.

Alright then... when?

Just to let you know I'm an INTERNATIONAL ORANGE BELT IN...

This is when she lowered her phone, almost as though she knew I was peering in on her ridiculous texting frenzy. I think what I was watching was the modern equivalent of "meet me at 3 o'clock." What is this text-fight-prequel?

These are just a few of things I eves-dropped-in-on while I was celebrating my gayhood.

- And then someone tried to kill your brother?!
- you're a horrible horrible person
- No... we're going to be on crystal...
- I fucked the owner of that bar! UGH! What's it called??
- *black guy screams*
"that was really loud."
"That. Was gay pride."
- I don't like blondes. Not my type.
Not even as flings?
Not even as friends.

let me fix my weave.

I had something lined up for you guys, but i didn't finish it.. but to stay in the theme of cover letters- here's one I wrote for a high-end salon in B. Hills.

My name is Atiya Jones and I am highly interested in working with your staff at the Aveda salon in Beverly Hills. I’ve recently moved to West Hollywood from New York City and I am looking for an opportunity to work in a fast paced environment, with creative people- where I can watch magic happen first hand (as we all know LA was born this pretty). My most recent assistant position was with a team of creative consultants at Virtue Worldwide. In addition to my daily tasks of researching clients, administrating a private website project, and transcribing, I was also responsible for managing my supervisor’s schedules (meetings, flights, etc) and in constant direct-communication with our clients. I am very organized, and love keeping track of everyone and thing around me. I have also been a member of the reservation staff at Buddakan NY, one of New York’s most popular restaurants. My employment history includes retail management, serving, hosting, reservations, assistant work, as well as product development; I consider myself a true Jack of Trades. On my watch, no appointment shall be overlooked and no clients greeting without the utmost respect and excitement.

Though I do not have 2 years of salon specific experience, I ask that you consider me as an applicant, as I did not see a single task on your post's-list that I am not capable of. I have attached my resume, highlighting my most recent work history, which also includes my contact information. I greatly look forward to speaking with you about this opportunity.

Thank you for your time.

Best,

Atiya Jones

oh f. minus.

I just watched a cat break my digital camera.
Fucksles.

Cover letter #5 House Productions and Casting.

I am quite tired of telling people who I am.

Hello,

My name is Atiya Jones and I have an insatiable desire to explore fresh paths in life. Like House Production and Casting, I am a recent transplant to L.A. from New York City. I arrived, barely one week ago, with two bags of luggage and confidence; I am building a life here, from the ground up. I graduated from Purchase College, SUNY, with a Bachelors Degree in Media & Communication. While pursing my degree, I held positions as the Assistant to Project Managers at a creative services agency: Virtue (a subsidiary of VICE magazine); an office assistant- later to be promoted to office manager; as well as maintained employment with retail stores, specializing in personalized customer services. Post-college I managed a staff of over 30 associates with Free People, as a Sales Manager. I fully encompass the word “multitask” and organization is my forte. Outside of work, I am an artist (drawing, photography and writing) and art enthusiast. I make as much time as I can to peruse galleries, see movies and create new work. I enjoy a fast-paced work environment and believe that one should never have idle-hands.

I have opened three different major retail stores, as an associate and sales manager. Each time, the experience, though always entirely separate, left me with the same thought: It simply is rewarding. Watching a space- an idea- a company- grow into fruition and firmly plant its feet on the ground, will always be a passion of mine. I hope that you allow me to join your staff, at the beginning stages of House Productions’ newest endeavor in Los Angeles.

I would like to thank you for your time, and greatly look forward to speaking with you about this role.

All the best,

Atiya Jones

Seriously. I need your help, friends. Evaluations are appreciated :)

Cover letter #4 LA Confidential

Lately, I've been writing cover letters. A lot of cover letters. I decided that I should start posting them. Maybe you'll give me some feedback and we can figure out why I don't have a job. Maybe you won't. Either way, here is the one I wrote to LA Confidential. It is a high-society, lifestyle magazine. It is the sister publication to the likes of Gotham and Ocean Drive. This one, I realize now, is too long... but I can't help it if I always have a bit too much to say:

Hello,

My name is Atiya Jones, and I am writing in regards to the available sales assistant position with LA Confidential. I have spent the majority of my life making sales- from clothing to creative services- I’ve probably pitched it. As I tend to see the positive side of everything, I would like to think that I am perfect for this opportunity. My passion for the perseverance of the magazine industry has been ignited since the promises that the advent of the web would bring print to an end, were first uttered. I am extremely detail oriented, vivacious, sociable and professional. Making and maintaining contacts is an art form, an extremely necessary one, in this city, and I am confident in my ability to do so. Though my work history has varied over the years (retail sales & management, waiting tables, hosting, etc.) all of my positions have always relied heavily on customer service and that is above all, the key to success. I am proficient in Power Point, Excel, Outlook, as well as basic HTML, Adobe Photoshop and Illustrator skills.

Niche Media Publications lend themselves to a wide variety of audiences: Those who live in the luxury, those who aspire to and the voyeurs who simply want to observe it all. I find LA Confidential to be particularly striking because it is able to update readers about socialites and celebrities, without being overtly gossip-based and intrusive upon their lives, like so many other glossies. It is classy, informative and luxurious, while maintaining an entertaining demeanor- comparable to the perfect summer soiree.

Life is indeed an unstoppable party and one must keep their guests satisfied, entertained and intrigued, to ensure their return for more, no matter what the situation may be. I am hoping that you decide to contact me about joining your guest list. For salary requirements, I would expect to start at $32,000+ roughly equating to $16 an hour.

I thank you in advance for your response.

All the best,

Atiya Jones

It was the first time I've ever had to make some sort of salary request. It felt awkward to write. I'm sure it was awkward to read.

fat chance.

Yesterday, was a bit gloomy. I don't handle cloudiness well- especially not in a city where, I hear, they are not supposed to exist. As I made my way to Barney's Beanery down the street, to attend an open-hire session, I found this photo opp. It was really quite beautiful in person, but unfortunately I could not frame the mirror the way I wanted to, with out having that awful Toyota aggressively placed in the image as well.


This is what my bed looks like almost every morning. Last night I had to kick her out of the room because she was sleeping right next to my face. Every time I moved her, she came right back up. I think I have to teach her to sleep alone.


Today.

Let's have a chat about today. After yesterday's breakdown and my near acceptance of an offer to move to San Francisco on Sunday, I decided that I needed to "bounce back" and approach the day with the attitude I originally had about LA (that wonderful, new exciting things would happen to me). I rode the #10 Bus all the way downtown- I'd overshot my Echo Park / Silverlake mark a bit and needed to backtrack a little. I walked around the neighborhood for quite sometime, but once I realized that "historical downtown" was uber boring I stopped and asked some coppers for directions.

Because no one knows how to use the bus lines here except for ethnic people from downtown, homeless people and European tourists, the cops had no idea how I could get to the #704 bus. They, instead, offered me a ride.

And that is how I scored my first (and only) ride in the back of a cop car. The driving officer talked about how much he loved NY the entire time, and told me that he couldn't imagine why anyone would ever move to LA. With an attitude like that, I can't either. Geeze, have a little hometown pride. I didn't want to take any obvious pictures, but here's the one I snagged.


When they told me that they were in fact, on duty, I asked about what would happen if they received a call while they were chaperoning me to Echo Park. They said that they would drop me off- THEN go handle it. (?!?!??) Sense of urgency... anyone?

They drove me down to Echo Park, where I planted myself in the Short Stop bar on W. Sunset. Upon exiting the car, some girl shouted, "Nice ride!" at me. I'm still not sure if she was being smug or sarcastically genuine, but she has no idea what a nice ride it actually was. There was a Dodger's game tonight, and the Short Stop, being the bar closest to the stadium, becomes pretty packed with fans. When a patron approached the bar with 4 extra tickets, 2 were handed to me, and that is how I scored my seats at the Dodger's game:


I met a guy at the S², who offered me a ride with him and his buddies to the game, saving me a walk up an really steep hill. I later learned that he and his friends were DAs. I guess it was just a good day for me and law enforcement.



It was pretty great. I found myself caring about the game a bit and shouting things. I left after a few innings because I'd not prepared to be out so late and did not pack a jacket. Today completely negated the 4 days I spent without human interaction. People told me to get used to that sort of thing here, to which I replied by spitting in their proverbial eyes.

lighten up young buck.

I was starting to feel down. Then I googled "harumph."

Bus #704

I started my day with Lottchen and Family Pet (not photographed), as per usual.



I decided to hit the Santa Monica beach. Look at this guy surfing the land waves:


It's just like Coney Island... but with a beautiful mountainous landscape behind it and crystal clear water.


From the corner of my street. Turns out, I'm not allergic to anything in LA.


Hi, Happyface.

When you live alone, you realize how many things you do with the interests of other people in mind.

such as:

closing the door when you pee
putting on clothing
at least, putting on pants
clipping your toe nails in the bathroom
brushing your teeth as soon as you get up
holding in your farts

(Alaina, I assure you, I did not do (most) of these things. I was just thinking about them.)

i'm adding another one-

eating 5 deviled eggs in one sitting. the consequences of that show up later and can be found in the first list.

trannymess.

It's 11:33 here is West Hollywood. I've become a cat lady. Terry is gone for a week and I have been left in charge of the apartment and the 3 cats. I went out last night, and ached to get back home to play with them; naturally they are the only ones I that I trust here. Here are three of my favorite photos from last night:

The night progressed so slowly... but then the gays got wild.

aftermath.

Some call RuPaul's "Supermodel" a song. I call it scissor inspiration.


There are others... that I won't post on the internet :)

A hot mess and his friend approached a friend and I to ask for a smoke... Earlier in the night I'd commented on Hot Mess: If someone told me that was Boy George, I would completely believe them. Friend introduced his companion as soon as he approached us "This is James St. James." Ha. He was sizzling.

I spent roughly $7.85 yesterday. Here's how:

$3 @ Little Joy, my fave dive bar in Echo Park
$3 @ Shits and Giggles on a bottle of water. After all the bra-go-go dancing, I was parched.
$1.85 @ Burger King on a Junior Whopper.

oh I forgot the $1.25 for the bus ride downtown.

I made a large amount of penne pasta with pesto and broccoli sauteed in EVOO, garlic and onion. It was enough for 3 people, as was the bottle of wine. I didn't finish the meal but...

Also, I walked through a scene of Entourage and was 6 inches away from Adrienne Grenier. I wanted, for those 6 seconds, to be discovered. This town does things to you-

desert. horse. no name.

I came to Los Angeles with 3 bags and $100.

I broke that $100 bill today at CVS on my first walk through the city, alone. Because I don't have any money, I figure I should track how I'm spending it. I forgot my flatiron back at Taylor's, so I needed to purchase some hair-doing goods. A brush, conditioner, face wash and the very necessary completely unnecessary nail polish (in Time Sq. Tangerine) came to a whopping $17.44. I winced when the fellow named "Mr. David" asked for my money.

Unlike what Mtv projects, THIS is the real world. I guess I'm about to see what happens when people stop acting nice... oh no wait. Real World LA (that's prettttttty much an oxymoron) must be when people stop acting cold hearted and mean like in NY and nice all the time. To practice, I've been saying hello to strangers. Note: they like this behavior.

I'm going to shower now. Then I'm going outside. Maybe I'll get on a bus. Maybe I'll just walk to Fairfax. At night, I can still wear my boots. Like R. Kelly and Jay-Z collaborations: it is the best of both worlds.