Consuelo’s decided to accept a job teaching in Los Angeles for next fall. She loves the Mexican neighborhoods in L.A. and feels comfortable among Chicanos – and she’s tired of New York. (Aren’t we all?)
LA is the perfect last-minute getaway because there’s so much to do there and tons of completely free entertainment, and you don’t need to book in advance. I’ve zipped up there many times, and I’ve always booked everything less than 10 days prior with no issues.
Maybe in another universe I texted you back. I said I still think about you too. I admitted there’s still a chunk of my heart that’s marked by your fingerprints.
In Los Angeles, it is slightly more difficult to justify ego through education and occupation—not many people seem to care very much about where you went to school or what you do.
I’m supposed to curse your name, blame you for my problematic summer and my fear of driving to fast. I’m supposed to instinctually flinch when people yell and label myself a survivor of you.
I won’t sit by my phone hoping you’ll text. Because I’ll go ahead and text you. Even when I say I’m not going to. Even when I say I don’t care and you’re just another dude who kissed me outside a bar.
How To Date A Bartender is a step-by-step guide on how to score a date with the bartender of your dreams.
I was super paranoid that this machine allowed her to read my mind and was even more freaked out when she looked at me after I thought this and said, “Don’t worry, I’m not reading your mind.”
Manhattan Beach Pier for a quiet, romantic evening to watch the sunset.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to pretend you don’t turn my stomach into a butterfly mortuary, that they flew around so fast and frantic, all of them died. I’m a graveyard of everything I’ve ever said to you.