My Cone Biopsy and Dancing Into The Night

After almost four years in Los Angeles, I had done what any sensible girl had done: I had obtained a bachelor’s degree, done some waitressing and bartending, gotten a nose job, been a fully clothed background extra in a porno (which never got released, so don’t even open that tab on your browser), became a stripper, and done some private fetish work on Craig’s List.

No big deal.

After LA had finished feeding off my soul and I had no more left to give, I moved away. Far away. Unfortunately, I did not have the sense to move to a place where no one knew my face and name. I moved back to where I grew up, and I tried to believe things might be better.

As typically happened when I would go back home, I found a boyfriend almost immediately. I don’t say that to be cocky, but to show the stark difference between Los Angeles and basically every other place in the populated world.

Anyone who has lived in LA knows that it is its own little microcosm of narcissism and insanity. You do insane things (which you legitimately think are a great idea at…