Frank saves the day.

That’s Frank. He was supposed to be sitting and posing, but instead he backed his butt up against his owner and curled up on the floor for a belly rub.

Frank’s awesome.

He belongs to one of the clients of my food delivery job. And every time I climb her steps, I think “OMG-IGETTOSEEFRANK” and find his little black and white potato body waiting inside the glass of the front door.

He reminds me of Poquito – the Frenchie I used to own. And he eclipses some of the hum-drum-i-ness of the driving job, when I deliver to his house.

It’s easy to slip into a weird headspace when I’m driving in LA. Before I even realize it, I’m crying about not acting as much as I used to. Or I’m loudly “describing other drivers’ driving technique” (and trying to honk politely… I haven’t developed full-fledged LA Road Rage). Or I feel my ribs closing in when I imagine working “shitty jobs” for the rest of my life. Which feels like eternity until I think about how short life is. And how fast the days, weeks and years go by. How I should be appreciating it. OMG, I’m not appreciating it enough. My life is flashing before my eyes and I’m supposed to be enjoying the “ride” — which is this shitty driving around Los Angeles, at this moment, and I hate it!


Then I see Frank. And he hi-fives my shins with his paws, and he licks my tights and I think “Hahahaha… aw, that guy.” And things feel better. Even though they’re the same.

But today, I’m on a shoot in San Diego! The second part of a Kroger commercial that will air on the east coast! (YAY! Family, if I can’t be there for Easter in person, I will be there on the television.) I’ll be posting about this, because for the first time in my life, I’m a HAND MODEL. A modern miracle. For those of you who are unfamiliar with my hands, please imagine this scene:

Oh and what, you thought I was only self conscious about my moles? HA. Los Angeles, thank you for encouraging me to face every last insecurity. On camera. (Wink!)



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