Feeling like I finally became an Angeleno when I could merge onto the 101 during rush-hour traffic, without breaking into a sweat and racing heart palpitations.
Getting mugged one late Friday night in the parking lot of the Hollywood Athletic Club, then having a record producer in a limo come to my rescue by calling the police on his car phone (This was a way cooler tale before cell phones).
Flirting with Kevin Costner while working as an extra on "No Way Out."
Having my roommate break down in sobs in the middle of a 405 traffic jam on a hot summer day, swearing she would leave this "damn city!". She did.
Working as an entertainment business manager's receptionist, it was my duty one day to keep two battling, just divorced soap opera stars from seeing each other, even though the wife was in the manager's office behind closed doors and the husband insisted on waiting.
Spilling a tray of drinks on Ted Danson's shirt while playing a cocktail waitress for a movie of the week.
Inching my way over Laurel Canyon in morning rush-hour traffic, neck-in-neck with Charlton Heston in the other lane.
When I finally learned exactly which area code belonged to what neighborhood, only to have many of them change and new ones added.
Drinking too much, then passing out in a booth at the Italian restaurant across from Canter's with John Cusak and producer Eric Barrett, after which they drove me back to my apartment and carried me up to my door. (my roommate thought she could fix me up with John C. But I don't think I impressed him much.)
Running into a bleary-eyed Robert Downey Jr., more than once, while club-hopping in the '80s.
Going to a Bar Mitzvah and being seated between Rick Davies of Supertramp and a writer from the show, "90210," and getting the scoop on who in Hollywood had plastic surgery - way before I knew of this site.
Window shopping with my daughter in Beverly Hills, we passed two blond women with their faces covered in white gauzy bandages and some more women sipping Champagne as they had their make-up done in Barney's. We gasped at the designer key-holders with price tags more than my monthly car payment, and watched a shirtless guy stand in an intersection in the middle of traffic proceeded to strip off his surf shorts and run naked in circles - all within an half-hour span.
Knowing no one in my life that works at a job where wearing a tie or nylons is required.
Going to the beach in Malibu, pulling into the only parking spot available - from which Flea with the Chili Peppers just pulled out, then sitting on the sand between movie Producer Brian Grazer and his family and a pouting Victoria Secret model and her bully of a surfer boyfriend.
Making eyecontact with Roger Daltrey, whom I had a huge crush on during his cascading-mane-of-golden-curls days, as he entered Whole Foods and I was leaving.
Going on auditions and being the only female waiting who wasn't over five-feet-ten inches tall, blond with fake boobs.
Hearing the same pick-up lines, over and over (in my single days): "I'd like to take photos of you," and/or "Would you like to come up to my place to read my script?" Always asked with the assumption that a young female will believe any fool can advance her career as long as he has a camera, a script or a business card which states he's a Hollywood big-wig.
Getting used to people scanning the crowd at parties while I'm trying to make eyecontact and have a conversation, which makes me begin speaking jibberish to see if they're listening, and when they nod knowingly - I go and refresh my drink.
Stopping at a light on Sunset and Laurel, and looking over to my right to see Dennis Woodruff-Actor politely tip his hat to me.
Visiting a friend and seeing Angelyne's hot-pink Corvette convertible parked in their neighbor's suburban driveway.
Having June Lockhart, of "Lassie" and "Lost In Space," ask to use the phone on my desk, when I worked as a receptionist.
Running into old sitcom stars while doing errands: Marion Ross and Kirk Cameron at the ATM, Scott Baio at Sharper Image, and Jody from the "Family Affair" (Who looked just like he did as a kid), while reaching for blueberry muffins at Vons. Seeing them in person is an entirely wierd experience - something like crawling into a T.V. tuned to the T.V. Land channel.
Taking a writing class from a well known ex rock-groupie, where everything was talked about without judgment: sex, drugs, S&M... but when she mentioned she went on a blind date and the guy showed up wearing khakis, the room of women gasped in horror. There are few things that shock those related to the rock world, apparently wearing khaki on a date is one of them.
Having a large movie crew, scouting locations, come into my home to inspect it to for use in a future production. I was asked if I would mind being put up in a hotel for a few weeks, and if they could they paint the walls a different color.
Yep, my house and my dog got discovered. But, me? I’m still waiting.