Only in LA/Only Me: The Gas Incident

One year and three months after my move from the rolling hills and wide plains of Nebraska to the energetic and non-stop L.A., I have finally just started to feel like a resident. Sure, I don't have the "papers", license, license plate, fancy car, or fake boobs to show for it; but I AM starting to navigate around town without my 'TomTom'. That says a lot for me. Now that I'm starting to know my way around (Hollywood); I'm also starting to become a bit more perceptive of things you can find 'Only in LA'. (I.e. hiking to the top of Runyan and seeing the view only found on the beginning of 'The Hills', Laker's games, being the closest I can be to Blake Griffin, and finally, PINKBERRY). Ok, Pinkberry isn't Only in LA but it tastes the best here.

For my first 'Only' post, I'd like to recall the amazing gas incident. It was a lovely, sunny L.A. morning, I had only gotten 5 hours of sleep. I was running late for work so naturally the Tracker was on empty. I filled her up enough to get from my home to work and back, got my OJ and granola bar, filled up my gas tank, and drove off. One key item was missing from my morning 'fill-up'. I forgot to take the gas pump out of the Tracker and proceeded to drive off, the whole thing disattached. Only me. Now I can no longer visit this gas station across the street from my home and I am $150 poorer.

ONLY ME!