It’s 1993; I’m stuck in the hell pit that is also known as Studio City. The air outside is thick and nothing like I’ve ever seen; it’s like swallowing when you breathe. So much smog mixed with fog — it’s yellow outside. My rental is infested with silver fish (which are disgusting cockroach-like bugs), and I’ve got one more month on my lease before I can escape back up north.
It took two weeks to figure out that I hated L.A. — virtually EVERYTHING about it– and another 2 weeks to realize that being an actress was not, in fact, what I wanted to do with my life. The icing on the sh*t cake was finding out I was pregnant with my oldest son and being there, in the house of bugs and the land of edible air.
Realizations kept heaping upon me, just like Tag Team rapping the number 2 song on the radio: “Whoomp (There It Is).”