Happy Birthday to Me

I turned twenty-four on Saturday.

So I obviously had the obligatory "Oh my God, I'm twenty-four and I haven't accomplished anything in my life" Freak Out.

But I've figured out a way to deal with it.

Obviously, I haven't accomplished as much as I would like. In fact, this past year has kind of just been a giant ball of Nothing wrapped in a crispy crust of You're a Lazy Bitch.

I have decided that this year I have to step up my game. And in order to make sure that this happens, I am giving myself a deadline. I have decided to set a specific, attainable goal for myself. And if that goal is not reached by the time I turn twenty-five, I have decided that I am moving to LA.

Because once I'm in LA, I won't have my family or my neighborhood to fall back on. I won't feel safe and comfortable and therefore it will not be as acceptable to me to go back to sleep instead of getting up to make it to that audition at 6:30 in the morning. I'll be 3,000 miles away from everything I've ever known, and most likely scared shitless.

So there you go.

As for what my goal for the year will be, I'm still not sure. I was thinking maybe soap opera, or maybe giving myself like, a certain amount of money, and if I'm not making that much money per month on pure acting gigs, then I'm off to LA.

Further review is needed.

I'll tell you one thing I'm sure of though: Alexander Skarsgard looks damn hot in the tank top that he was wearing in the last two episodes of "True Blood"