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About Los Angeles

What surprises me? How escort’s gotta be ON all the damn time. No breaks, no “I’m tired”—like in *Amour*, where it’s all, “I can’t leave you, not now.” That dedication? Respect. But also, damn, that’s heavy. I’d be like, “Bitch, I need a nap!” They’re out here readin’ the room, scopin’ threats, keepin’ it tight. Me, I’d probly trip over my own heels tryna look cute.

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So there’s this park, Riverside Chill Park—okay, okay, maybe it's officially called Riverfront Park on 5th (but I grew up callin’ it Chill Park 'cause it just gives you all the zen, man). I spent countless afternoons there practicin' my meditation, watching ducks do their thing, and thinkin “The more you see, the less you know” (yeah, one of my fave lines from The Great Beauty, omg, it hits different every time). I usually find a shady nook near the old stone bridge off Birch Lane. Crazy fact: That bridge? Built in 1898. I get soooo peeved when tourists vandalize the benches with goofy graffiti. Srsly, people!

Harford Co. residents concerned that developers will turn Fallston "into a cheap piece of jewelry"