Britt is back Stateside, but keeps her suitcase packed. And drunk-blogs about it.

Full disclosure. I am drunk-blogging at my local watering-hole, as I am pushed to the brink with Eternal Summer, always on the quest of finding air-conditioned establishments to seek refuge in (this is SURVIVAL, here, people, REAL SURVIVAL).


At this current moment, I am one kale salad, one basket of french-fries (they cancel each other out, obvi) and three glasses of wine in (I’m a LIGHT WEIGHT), and I decided I want to write about my life again.

Sigh. AGH! Okay! Here we go!! MY LIIIIIIIFE!!!!

Where to begin with you, my friends, where to begin….


My life is changing drastically. All of the time. And things are…. good??


They are really good!!


(Okay, I donno WTF with these GIFs right now, I’m sorry, but… WINE!)

At first, coming back to Los Angeles after 2 months abroad felt like a huge slap in the face. Student debt? Bullshit-expensive healthcare? Smog? Poverty? Credit card fraud? Car break-down? Website hacking? Anxiety? No room or apartment to call home? $30 to my name? Yup. Gotta catch ’em all.

I saw the Edge of My Soul a couple times and it was dark and GLORIOUS. (Dani tells me I’m at my best when I’m at the Edge of My Soul) (I would have to agree) (I give zero sh*ts when at this point and I am a funny b*tch when I am at the Edge of My Soul, truth-be-told.)

So…. since I am drunk rambling now, let me just catch you up bullet-point style:

I came back from Australia.


I learned a lot of shit from the Aussies. And I wanted to keep globe-tripping and still feel wander-lusty.


But, I returned to LA! In glory!

PRL loves.

PRL loves.

“Everything the light touches, Simba….”

Yet I realized upon arrival back to LA that the item of greastest value I owned was a $300 Alaska Airlines credit, and I had no home and technically no job(s), so….

I am living partially on people's couches and partially in garbage cans.

I am living partially on people’s couches and partially in garbage cans. (Note: I’m wearing the same outfit I’m wearing in the photos above, so that’s how you know the #struggleisreal

…I flew to Portland for a little under a month to re-group and fuel my soul a bit.

Me and my Mini-Me at my Mini-Me's show. <3

Me and my Mini-Me at my Mini-Me’s show. ❤

Kids reading scripts, sun setting on the water.

Kids reading scripts, sun setting on the water.

Buuuut… I did not do so before crashing some Rich-People Parties with my beloved housemates of the Pussy Riot Lodge* (*PRL). They had free tacos, horchata, and FREE BOOZE, y’all!

PRL class photo. Representing' this $3M house. ....Betch.

PRL class photo. Representing’ this $3M house.
….Please notice Dani and I on the right being f*cking weirdos who should not leave the house, ever.



Anyway. …What? What am I talking about?? (Sorry.) Okay– 


Birds of Neptune had the incredible honor of being screened as the Opening Night Film for the Portland Film Fest, where we packed out a 500+ seat theatre and partied ’til the DAWN. I have never felt so much love in a single place, nor have I been more proud of work I’ve put forth into a single place. It was so incredible to bring the film home, to the very place it was conceived and born. 

No photos, please.

No photos, please.


With Aussie director (“Love is Now” / Eponine Films) Jim Lounsbury


With actors Kurt Conroyd and Molly Elizabeth Parker ❤

with actors Christian Blair and Molly Elizabeth Parker <3

with actors Christian Blair and Molly Elizabeth Parker ❤

with the bro. <3

with the bro. ❤

I came back to LA a couple weeks ago, and — at nearly the 2-year-anniversary mark of being in this crazy town — things have begun to click into place. The hard work, the sleepless nights, the 10 months of living out of a suitcase to “make the rest of it work”, and my constant questioning and pushing-forward is finally beginning to pay off. 

I am working a job everyday that I LOVE and that stimulates me intellectually and interpersonally, gives me the freedom of making my own scheduling, and…. I work from home most of the time, so…. I am DOWN with that. And I have worked HARD for that.

And I am making good money. It is a dream. 

(insert inspirational photo representing liberation and moving up Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs here)

(insert inspirational photo representing liberation and moving up Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs here)

I feel more creative now than ever.

I am collaborating musically with my brother (more soon!), producing an international film project with one (and some!) of my dearest friends, getting ready to travel internationally AGAIN (to promote the film!), and am constantly buzzing with creative projects involving my sweetest love Dani. This is just the beginning.

I feel like I am now, at long last, finally — beginning my long, turbulent, enriching, love-affiar with LA.

And with everywhere. 

I guess this is what it means to be a creative person.

Where my heart goes, I go.


(c) V again


Alright, that’s a lot of photos of me.

Oh well, there’s no going back on that choice now.

Okay they are turning on the “mood lighting” in this bar and I cannot see shit. And now a bday party or a bachelorette party or something is happening, so, alas, ’tis time for me to sign off.

But first, I must say how proud I am of myself for accomplishing this writing feat in my current state. I don’t know what got in to me. I have spell-checked and grammar-checked this shit so many times.

giphyDrink and blog responsibly, people. RESPONSIBLY.

All my (drunken) love (which is a lot of love),


2 thoughts on “Britt is back Stateside, but keeps her suitcase packed. And drunk-blogs about it.

  1. So Britt, why do you keep putting asterisks in the middle of simple words that I’m sure you know perfectly well how to spell? Is this another of your efforts to be obscure and mysterious? Or is it merely a function of you drunkenness?

  2. My dearest Britt,

    You are as lucid a blogger when you are semi-shitfaced drunk as you are stone cold sober. No matter what shit storm comes your way, your passion for life in general seems to prevail. I’ve never known a person with such positive energy. It’s got to add up to something exceptional. Good karma is on the way to you so leave your trash can lid slightly ajar to receive it when it arrives one dark night. I hope your job allows you to get more stable digs. Living in your own filth gets a little old after a while, despite the apparent glamor of it. Keep doing what you’re doing except do more of it. Travel, live, love, make music, express yourself. Whatever it takes, sister, whatever the fuck it takes. Peace and love.

    Your brother (from another mother)

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