Point of no return

I've made a small sign on my door. It says "Point of No Return". I named this small studio flat Point of no return in recognizion of what this means to me. All of it; leaving mom, moving to LA, doing this auditions and shitload of stuff that just has to be done.

I've gotten myself a job; it's real simple, I make coffee and serve it. I won't reveal the location just yet, perhaps it'll have to stay unknown for a while. But it'll pay the bills and my boss is a sweet woman who supports me by letting me take time off to do all those things I need to have done. It's a quiet place anyway, mostly bookreading emo bitches and bandshirt guys. Like I care what band they like listening to! They creeps me out sometimes, smiling at me like at a child explaining about their fine taste in totally unknown music.


I'm way past being treated like a child, "accidents" happen all the time. Can't stand the bastards, one guy looks very similar to a guy from school back home. I have to concentrate not to stare at him, thinking of different ways to make him writhe in pain under my hands.

Ugh, this made for quite the miserable post, yes? So I better tell you something better then.. like that I've ran into something like the best yoga teacher ever. He's a big sports guy, gay as much as a fish is wet and has set me up with some kind of bikram training that makes wonders on my mood and health.

Yesterday I was there, and god it's hot in those rooms, it's lika a sauna. And you keep on doing those cravy yoga moves for a good hour. After my first time I bent down to put on my shoes and suddenly the floor was a little too close. I was like: WTF!? My legs where straight but I leaned forward and the body just folded. So strechy, I guess that's what it's like for that rubber superhero girl, whatshername, in the animated movie.

Anyways. I'm going now, have to make a call to mama while it's still before midnight at her place. I miss her so much.