I dreamed last night that during my visit to New England (which will be taking place next month), it was 20 degrees and snowing. Even though it was the middle of July. I suppose my subconscious mind has labeled the Northeast as The Place Where It Snows And Is Cold, and L.A. is considered Land of Warmth.

In a social sense, I suppose that Los Angeles is losing its sheen, but -- as was explained to me last night by one of my best friends who is a native -- this particular view comes with the territory of moving here and not growing up here. Despite the fact that L.A. has the highest concentration of Beautiful People in the country, I do not consider myself one of them. I'm not ugly nor am I hideous to look at -- I consider myself to have average/above average looks -- but I still believe that one of these days, the Beauty Police will haul my ass off to the county line and tell me that I am not allowed here anymore.

It's not a matter of needing plastic surgery or anything, it's just the way I perceive myself as compared to all the models and actors running around out here. How am I supposed to compete with that? It's like being bombarded with all those magazines that tell us how we should look, except it's real life and it's round-the-clock and it's everywhere. It's enough to give an East Coaster a serious self-image complex.