On your los angeles

I just came back from spending the weekend at Coachella. I had an all-access artist’s wristband, gifted to me from the hot drummer I’m currently fucking whose band was playing the festival. It was my first time at Coachella and easily the best weekend of my life.

It’s funny, when I woke up in the late afternoon on Monday, I immediately thought of you. I proceeded to sift through your archives, first reading every post you had written about Coachella, then scrolling through all your old musings. (I still am.)

I started reading your blog when I was a 14-year-old attending Palisades High School, dazzled by your style and dreaming of a time where I would be old enough to experience the LA playground the way you had. I’m 22 now, and ever since I left my parents house at 20, life has been a constant flow of wild and introspective events. I know my Los Angeles and yours are different. But I’m so excited for this one, and I can’t help but feel like you had something to do with this feeling.

Thank you for your steady influence through all these years. Thank you for answering a question I sent you when I was 15 and had just lost my virginity. Thank you for involuntarily being the super cool big sister I never had. You’re amazing, and I hope you’re well.


This made me smile. I’m so happy for you. I’m also a little bit envious at the thought of being twenty-two and backstage at my first Coachella. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it, but you’re right — what I miss and what you’re experiencing aren’t the same thing. That’s why I know better than to go back. I’d be looking for something that doesn’t exist, and I’d find something that belongs to someone else now.

That’s okay, though. My time was mine and your time is yours, and that’s the way it’s supposed to be. I’m just honored that you thought of me. Really. That feeling you’ve got, I know exactly what it’s like. It’s so pure and beautiful, and for you to feel like I had something to do with it means the fucking world to me.

This past year has been one of the most difficult and transformative of my life. I haven’t been able to share myself like I used to, and I haven’t been able to give your questions the attention that they deserve. I’m sorry about that. I appreciate that you’ve all been patient with me, and I want you to know that I still read as many submissions as I can. I plan on coming back. I know I keep saying that, but bear with me.

In the meantime, thanks for scrolling through my old stuff. Thanks for sending me new questions to answer. Thanks for thinking of me every once in a while, and thanks for sharing it with me.

Stay wild.




125 thoughts on “On your los angeles

  1. T-ferg says:

    Amazing that my first day ever in Los Angeles, this gets posted. I’m just coming out of a really difficult and tumultuous time as well, and this post feels kismet. I’m thinking of you fondly as I tour around West Hollywood. Xo

  2. Jerry says:

    Just got back from Coachella and I definitely thought about you as well. This filled me with warmth.

    We’ll be waiting for you when you’re ready. Take your time. <3

  3. Alexandra says:

    Take all the time you need. We’ll still be here for you when you get back. You’ve been patient with our craziness for a long long time. We can be patient for you too Coke. Stay Wild. Take care of yourself.

  4. My mom has been sick this year, and besides you, she’s my best and most trusted advisor. She’s 76, a retired nurse and not a shrinking violet in her older years. I actually turned her onto you as she has been off her feet and quite bored, and she really gets a kick out of you and says you give solid advice she wishes someone had given her years ago. I think in facing her mortality, she’s gotten so much more fearless and I can sense her trying to instill more of that into me. You know, preparing me for her leaving, because it will all go to hell when she does (she’s the matriarch of a quite dysfunctional crew; I’m the most well adjusted of the bunch). I told her I want to get a ‘Stay Wild’ tattoo. She told me after a big doctors appointment she has, if some of her restrictions get lifted (they likely will), she wants me to find a place and she wants to take me and pay for it and be there while I do it. This makes me more happy than I can ever say because I feel like it’ll be a daily reminder of the legacy of your words and her spirit, which is like the best fucking gift wrapped up into one. You keep taking care of you. We will all still be here. And if not, your words will be, which is the greatest gift of all.

    • Nona says:

      Hiya, I hope your Ma has very good years in front of her with you, you both seem like lovely people.
      In the end I bought two copies of CQ’s book, for my grandma and my mother.

  5. LPS says:

    Coke, I’ve been an avid reader for the past 6 years. You’re one of the reasons that gave me enough strength to seek the therapy I needed and to start the shift in life I so fucking deserve. The past year and a half have been too transformative to put into words, and when I thought I wasn’t going to be able to connect with anyone anywhere, I always reminded myself you were here telling us something, and then something else. I realized that, fuck, I count on you as friend. You’re my do or die bitch. Stay wild, babe. I’m here for you.

  6. The Derpy Bear says:

    Oh man! What you say about missing something that won’t be there is something that I totally get.

    I miss going to festivals all the time but i know it would not be the same now (I went a lot in my early 20s, in my early 30s now)

    I miss bush parties and rolling on E looking at the stars. I miss random dance floor conversations, and deep conversations by the fire. I miss cuddle puddles and seeing random art, costumes, and the amazing festival food.

    That feeling definitely was so pure. I like how my life is now though. I have been struggling this year too.

    Sometimes I read your old posts too. Weird that I have been reading your blog for over 6 or 7 years now? I get that you can’t give it the time you once did. I guess I get it because I moved on from a similar part of my life as you did.

  7. Silvia says:

    When I think about the persons in my life that make it worth it, you are among them Coke, even if we don’t personally know each other. So, yeah, i’ll still be here when you’ll write 🙂

  8. Apricot says:

    I’ve been reading your posts for 5 years. I sometimes write out questions to you, just for the catharsis of hitting that “be vulnerable” button and sending it out into the universe. Often, just typing it all out is enough to see the answer. Life goes on. Hope that your transformation leads you to peace and some level of joy.

  9. Jen says:

    I was the one that sent the weekend one vs two question last year. It ended up being probably the most profound music experience of my life, due to the circumstance of Prince’s death and being so close to so many people that felt like I did and all the tributes everywhere, and because of the Despacio Soundsystem and LCD (never caught them years ago). The reason I explain this is because it’s so interesting that I also felt even last year before I went that my time had come and gone (I’m reaching mid 30s) and that I’m happy to hand it off and that I had the experience I did. I know exactly what you mean. For me, because this feeling is extending beyond Coachella to lots of my festival travel and club experiences, now I’m thinking, what’s next? I either travel more or take all those experiences start creating something to share.

    Enjoy yourself, asker!

  10. I’m probably one of your oldest around here. 8 years and counting. I told you once that you’re my favorite philosopher and it hasn’t changed. Hang in there, Coke. As much as I can love someone I’ve never met, I love you and I hope things settle down for you soon.

  11. Dodger says:

    22. Moving to Palo Alto.
    Couldn’t have imagined my life, or subsequent adventures around Central and South America, without your invaluable advice. When I had a long-distance boyfriend, when I actually grappled with the void, or with my own insignificance, you were always there. For what it’s worth, you provided a hand in the dark to me and I’m sure countless others.
    Rock on, Coke. We miss you.

  12. Jessica Sen says:

    I met Coke on the winter of 2014.
    She didn’t tell me who she was.
    Got pranked and she was serious as hell.
    She meant business underneath a joke.
    Still – cognitive dissonance from it.

    She showed me her pool and her house.
    My bedroom.
    The bed was pretty fucking sick.
    On my way home I called her:
    “I’ll take it,” I said.
    “Excuse me?” she said.
    “Uh, I’d like to live in your house.” I said.

    She never swore. She wore big sweaters. She had many cool trees in her backyard. She used a stove kettle.

      • Chris says:

        Why is it so outrageous to think someone met Coke? She’s a person who does things like cross people’s paths. I heard she even drinks water from a glass, and breathes air via some places, and expels it via others.

        • Aletheia says:

          It’s not so outrageous to think someone met Coke, but it is to think someone met Coke *and knows.* She keeps her identity here and in real life almost completely separated, as far as I know, and very, *very* few people are privileged to know both secrets. 🙂

          • Chris says:

            A good point.

            There are other reasons to doubt the occurrence, but it’s of no consequence.

            Besides, I’m the only one who knows Coke! She’s 9′ 4″, and drives a silver van like the A-Team used to. When she emerges (shirtless and ripped muscles glistening with sweat) you do not want to be on her bad side.

          • Chris says:

            Hey Jess, a couple posts back you’d said some things about Coke’s age.

            Does this mean you never met her? No.

            Also, you’re much younger and live in a different country.

            Having said this, you could have totally met her. She could be your aunt, or she could have done an AirBnB at your folks’ place while passing through.

            Thousands of people have met Coke. If you were one of them, I imagine it’s pretty sweet having done so before reading her work here.

          • Jessica Sen says:

            I met her after I read her. I flirted with her on Twitter and a year later, she found me. It was a coincidence that I was living in the city she was in at the time. (I’ve lived in about 7 different places in the past decade) I can only give cryptic clues because I’d hate to give away her identity. I also have a feeling I’m not the only reader who has met her.

        • Nona says:

          Oh dear, if CQ uses different organs for intake and output of air, that means she is a fish, or a bird or an amphibian. Or a plant ?

          • WhoAmI says:

            Lovecraft warned us and we didn’t listen. I, for another, welcome our new fish overlords.

          • Chris says:

            Oh, Nona, you silly-billy!

            Inhale with nose, exhale with mouth. Plus, she eats carbon-based food products, then blasts out a righteous liter or two of fart on the daily.

    • Paige says:

      I remember first seeing you comment a couple months ago so and I’m willing to bet thats when you first found this blog so yeah I don’t think so.

  13. Sarah W says:

    Oh man. This post and the comments are so so incredibly awesome.

    Did anyone else have to wait a while for this feeling to kick in?

    My teens and early 20s were a blur of surgeries and parental loss and The Evil That Men Do on campus that I sometimes feel that I’m playing catch up at 29. I’m not complaining at all – others had it rougher and I *love* my life now. It just meant that it took me a little while to go on adventures and feel safe around people.

    Last year I went to my first festival! I’m still working on not feeling guilty when I’m having fun…

    Cold panic will hit me at 3am that I missed the 00s fun boat…the music, the culture…but then I remember there was a point where I didn’t think I would see that decade out and I’m so glad I did. At one of my lowest points I found this blog in 2011 and it helped me so so much.

    I will think of CQ when I see Princess Nokia this summer. Eee!

    • Apricot says:

      I’ve started feeling it the past year. My boyfriend is a few years younger, on the other side of 25, and I feel us drifting apart because he is starting to get into music scenes that I associate with a totally different stage of my life and don’t feel any real urge to return to.

      I often feel like I was a late bloomer in some ways too, because some years in my early 20s were fraught with family/money problems which meant I watched my friends study abroad, travel etc but couldn’t go.

      The nice thing about being a little older now is the pressure to do it all before 30 has worn off. It’s like the odd peace you get the day of a test when you have no more time to study and are slightly buzzed from lack of sleep.

      • Sarah W says:

        I love that comparison! It’s so fun to do all these things without my under-25 mentality: the hang ups and the shits I gave about what men thought of me. There is so much music I love today after what felt like an entire decade of grubby guitar men in Camden. >_<

  14. JC says:

    I love this response. I recently gave away a bunch of my old club clothes to a young woman who just came out as transgender. There was something very satisfying in understanding that it wasn’t my time to wear them anymore, but also that some little part of my wild youth would live on in another woman. I imagine it’s the same feeling CQ is having, though obviously she’s touched far more lives in this way than I have.

    • JC says:

      LOL, I am dying over that shit.

      OK, but is Storey Frizzell a parody or not? I think so, but she’s quite convincing as a white girl with 1%er problems.

  15. Willow says:

    Jesus christ this girl sounds exactly like me.

    I’m there too coke. Lots of changes. A lot of reframing. I’m gonna write you another long ass email soon, but anyway I hope you are surprised by whatever parts of yourself are drawn out by what you’re going through. I know that this girl and I are not the only people you’ve watched become themselves over the years and, at least to the degree that you’ve allowed us, we’ve enjoyed watching you grow too. Do what you do. I won’t forget to keep checking back.

        • Put says:

          I don’t think she’s shitting on the moment. I don’t know why white people get so offended by being called “white” tbh

          • verySleep says:

            She made it about her and her ostensible experience.
            Nobody is offended at being called white.
            That’s not even a premise for consideration.
            I’m not offended on anyone’s behalf.

            I’m offended that someone had to interrupt a moment of meaning with something that should be meaningless.

            And when I think about it further, it’s a lot like someone saying something moving, important, and beautiful; and then some random trash says, “look at me! I’m smart! Amiright!” It’s detestable in its shallow grab at both attention and superiority. It’s low key trumpworthy.

            If that truly is the “whitest thing she’s ever read”, she needs to drink a box of whine and read the entirety of Slate and come back with some more keen observations.

          • JC says:

            If that truly is the “whitest thing she’s ever read”, she needs to drink a box of whine and read the entirety of Slate and come back with some more keen observations.


          • WhoAmI says:

            Said wine should be served in one of those hilariously oversized glasses. At room temperature, of course.

        • PUT says:

          “Something that shouldn’t matter?” It is painfully obvious that you are white. Chill the fuck out.

          • VeryOn says:

            I guarantee you I am way more chill than you are.
            As evidence I present the fact that I don’t immediately start worrying about what race a touching moment is.

            It should be painfully obvious that I don’t care if you call me white. Here, let me help you.
            1. I’m so fucking white that porcelain dishes think I’m a ghost of their ancestors.
            2. I’m so fucking white that Slate seems like it’s making a good point.
            3. If you asked an incandescent light bulb how white I am it would say, “I don’t see color.”
            4. My last goth girlfriend was white and she told ME i needed to get some sun.
            5. I’m so white I think yoga is an extreme sport.

            So…Heed your own advice, “chill the fuck out.” Or…feel free to fuck off, it’s all good.

            Next time bring a real argument or real bait, you fucking two bit troll. You aren’t even entertaining.

            p.s. I’m so white all my jokes are “dad jokes.”

          • verySleep says:

            I cheated on the goth girlfriend joke…we only went out twice. That doesn’t really count as “gf.” Also…she was black! 😀

    • OG ASKER says:

      Just to clear things up, I happen to be a first-generation American with thick dark hair and a fat ass, of Brazilian-immigrant parents.
      You don’t have to be white to do fancy things and get all sentimental and wide-eyed about it, folks! Lol

  16. Jessica Sen says:

    How does Coachella compare to Burning Man?

    How does Coachella compare to being high with friends in your apartment listening to sick music?

    Can someone please enlighten me about Coachella? Is it an American rite of passage? A cultural milestone? A brand to brag about??

    I don’t get it and I want to understand. I’ve been brought up in a country with limited pop culture influence and severe penalties for “being wild”.

    Please let me live vicariously through your stories.

    • Chris says:

      Never been, and never heard of it before this site. But I also don’t like going to concerts. Typically, if I hear a song, it’s already a hit.

    • VeryOn says:

      I’ve never been to Coachella or Burning Man. But I have been to the “decompressions” that happen after Burning Man. Which struck me as odd, because the fucking business world we return to is extreme compression. Sooo…I think those guys got it backwards.

      As far as metaphors:

      This is my impression. Coachella is like the sushi you get at the grocery store. If you really like sushi, you won’t get it at the grocery store. There’s tons of people shopping for their own thing and only one bathroom. But if you’re stoned and with a bunch of friends, that sushi is going to taste like the best sushi on the planet.

      Burning Man is like the Trader Joe’s/WholeFoods of music festivals. It lets a bunch of people of all ages think they’re fighting the norm by engaging in “creative purchasing.” You’ll see a bunch of stuff you can’t get at most other stores because the labels are different and there’s a bunch of hoohah on the box. But if you’re stoned and with a bunch of friends, that hoohah is the most important thing you’ll ever read in your life.

      Burning Man is also like a bunch of rabid art students were gifted power tools while dropping acid near a home improvement and electronics store.

      Again, I’ve never been, so if anyone shoots a cannonball through my perceptions, I’m not going to be wounded; I’ll be enlightened.


    • WhoAmI says:

      From what I see from afar, Coachella used to be cool but as far as I can tell it has definitively moved past that phase and now it’s not anymore. They still have had impressive line ups in the past few years.
      Nowadays I hear about people doing youtube videos of themselves picking a “Coachella outfit” which sounds all kinds of tacky.

      All in all I think on average Coachella is becoming more and more constructed around pleasing the post-teen white girls who only smoke a blunt from time to time (but who pretend otherwise), wear “ethnic prints”, feather necklaces, and whose favourite kind of music is “indie music”.

      Burning Man is for that white guy who reeks of cigarettes and cheap whisky, looks like his hair needs a shampoo, like, one week ago, thinks he can rock a messy bun and beard, and won’t shut up about how microdosing acid is the fountain of youth and will bring world peace. I know cuz several of my acquaintances went there (some of them several times) and they’re all that same mix of cool and chill but nasty and creepy.

    • moob says:

      You can’t understand Coachella unless you’ve been there.
      Until I went, I thought it was a useless bro fest/brag fest from afar, but I found all the hype to be well-backed.
      It’s this beautiful adult playground. They know what they are doing. There is always a show, so many different tents and genres to enjoy. High production value. Everyone is so happy and proud to be there, and you feel that energy everywhere. The people watching is supreme, the food is delicious, and you get to see some of your favorite musicians put on a spectacular show in the middle of the desert with a bunch of other people just as high as you are. Real life is so far away, and for those three days, you are just committed to this world.
      I don’t know. It’s fucking spectacular.

      • it's clear says:


        If you haven’t been to festivals then you won’t completely understand. It’s as close to magic as you’ll get.

      • James says:

        Finally, someone on here gets it right.

        The Coachella boat has sailed, and it’s not cool anymore. But at the same time, if you’re with the right people who are there for the right reasons it doesn’t fucking matter.

  17. adventureless says:

    i’m not pretty enough to be this girl and i never was and i never will be and i never feel like Coke is for me because of it.

    even here i’m on the outside looking in

    • Chris says:

      That really blows, Adventureless. And I bet you’re wrong.

      I had a girlfriend who was really great except she didn’t think she was very pretty. Going on looks alone, our great President might say she “wasn’t exactly a ten,” and that we can believe him that he wouldn’t have gone for the grab on her, but she was fun, and had a great sense of humor (meaning, she thought I was funny).

      It’s true that you need something offer if you want to have good times, but you don’t have to have it all; you just have to have something. For example, are you going to where things are happening? That’s about half the battle; being there.

      You’re probably prettier than you think, and to someone, you’re everything they’re looking for.

    • VeryOn says:

      Believe me, you’re not alone in the slightest. Cq posts can be like porn. It makes it seem like there’s a lot more beautiful people fucking than actually are…at least proportionally.

      Most of us live on the less fun side of the velvet rope.

    • Nona says:

      Of course you’re looking in. One of the major components of CQ’s success was the voyeuristic access to this mysterious LA party girl.
      The kind of beauty you think you lack is mostly manufactured in the LA party girl world. Nails, makeup, botulinum and fillers. And the goddamn cleanses. Berk.

      If your dream is to be on the inside of a secluded group, it isn’t that difficult. But is that what you really want ?
      The magic of human life is that there is not a universal answer to happiness. No ultimate goal. Meaning is ephemeral. Discovery and creativity come in many different forms. You’re a fucking popstar (physically and mentally) to 99,9% of the humans who came before you, presumably because you had the sheer damn luck to receive proper nutrition.
      Now go out and do something.

    • Sarah W says:

      Oh sweetheart – I hear you, but I think you just need to find cool people.

      Here’s the thing about a lot of hot girls in my life (#NotAllHotGirls):

      – Super self conscious about dancing
      – Incapable of being single because they spent their teens and 20s dating any and every Mr Potato Head who bought them flowers
      – They bring said Mr Potato Head to the god damn party

      TL:DR? They are not that good at having actual fun. Looking like fun, sure. But not creating it.

      “It doesn’t matter what you look like! I mean if you have a hunchback, just throw a little glitter on it, honey, and go dancing.” – Party Monster.

    • Jessica Sen says:

      Here’s some curated Coquette content on beauty.

      I’m not going to go into a whole spiel of how you’re beautiful inside and all that. I can only say that we were given a certain lot in life and we all have to work with what we happened to be given. For example, I can’t draw for shit and it’s frustrating as hell, but I chose to write and make movies to express my imagination. So, be charming, be interesting, be curious, be smart, be funny, be cool, be nice… there’s plenty of things that make a person attractive besides being pretty. If you don’t want to be any of the above, then, be content.

      • adventureless says:

        i appreciate what everyone is trying to say and all, but i’ve been funny and smart and interesting my whole life and i’ve been content with it up until the point where i want to fuck a drummer, because none of that shit has ever mattered when there were pretty girls in the room.

        • J Lynn says:

          Re drummers, if you really want to fuck one, it won’t be a problem; many are happy to live up to their stereotype and service as many as will have them. (#notalldrummers, of course.) Just catch them at an off time, not right after the big show they’re the star of. I.e., at somebody else’s show at which they aren’t playing, at the bar, at the coffeeshop, IOW, be part of a local scene for a while. If the drummer doesn’t pan out, someone else will; local music scenes are very incestuous and everybody who’s not too picky gets a few turns (especially if you’re a straight woman, as these scenes tend to skew male).

          My 2c is drummers are often overrated while bass players are often overlooked. Musicians in general can be a lot of heartache, but may be worth it especially if you play, too, then you can have a little side project.

          If you can play your way into a band (easier than you think), then you’ll get YOUR pick of the fans, that’s the best course of action. I assume at least some people still play instruments, not just laptops? I’m old like Coke.

          As I write this, I just realized I probably could’ve fucked this one particular drummer I was sort of pal-sy acquaintances with lo 10 years ago. I bet he would’ve been good, too. Don’t pass on these opportunities, kiddos, they are more frequent and numerous than they appear! And not just for the beautiful people, for everybody who can develop social skills and some personal panache.

          • adventureless says:

            a drummer was the OP’s situation. i used it in this case as a stand-in for literally any guy i’ve ever been attracted to (some of whom did happen to be drummers. who shot me down).

          • J Lynn says:

            Early 10s? I retired in 2009. As usual, I’m ahead of the curve! haha

            Adventureless – How old are you? That may shed light.

          • J Lynn says:

            WTF with “not the answer you were expecting, I’m sure.” That sounds so snotty. It’s true your comments make you seem younger, though.

            It’s not 100% clear whether you’re frustrated about not being able have romantic encounters at all, or not being able to be chosen as desirable by beautiful people in fairly rarefied, looks-driven situations (backstage at Coachella, dance clubs).

            If the latter: No, I don’t imagine plain Janes do get access to some of these rich, elite, beautiful, exclusive Coquette adventures. I totally concede that. I mean, I guess, anyway — I honestly wouldn’t know, I’ve never been close enough to those types of situations to find out. I doubt I’d be considered a prize in those venues. I also don’t know how to hang out at exclusive hotel pools when not a guest, to reference something else I read by la Coquette. I’ve never wanted to be part of any of that so it doesn’t bother me; for the most part, I’ve been a part of scenes where some alternative aesthetic is more valued than high-maintenance LA Beautiful.

            Maybe your social milieu is just too fancy? I have no idea, that’s just a guess. What you describe when out dancing … well, in my observation, those environments truly aren’t good for plain women to get attention from strangers, so you’re not wrong. You may need to find a more conducive environment. Luckily you’re aging out of the clubs anyway.

            In my life, no one non-creepy has ever approached me cold with, “Can I buy you a drink?”, on sight, like you seen in movies, or even more improbably had a bartender send one over from across the room. Never. But lots of drinks have been bought after a conversation has already been struck up, or by an acquaintance. Not in dance clubs. In regular old bars with fried zucchini, cracked vinyl barstools, etc.

            Being someone men want to be with on sight may be out of reach for you (it is for most people); if you were that type who attracted strangers approving attention, you’d know by now.

            But that in no way precludes flirting, casual sex, dating, passionate affairs or long-term relationships.

            Because in general, among us average-and-below-looking proles, ugly (actually ugly) people do fuck, do have romantic relationships, do have adventures. They just DO. I’ve seen it & lived it countless times, many times over.

            I have another theory, which is psychological. You see it more stereotypically in men: Avoiding involvement by pining after unattainable people. I have no clue if that relates to you, but it’s another idea.

          • adventureless says:

            you described to me how music scenes work, and asked if people still play instruments and not just laptops because you’re “old like Coke.” you clearly thought i was 17 or something. i’m not going to apologize for sounding snotty, because there was no malice behind it and what i said was truth. you were not expecting me to be nearly 30.

            honestly, i’d prefer to be involved in a place where alternative aesthetics are valued, but *you still need to be pretty to get anyone within them.* everyone keeps insisting that normal and ugly people can have hookups and adventures, but they don’t happen to me and nobody seems to be able to tell me how to make it happen. everything everyone has said? be funny, be charming, be interesting, feign confidence, flirt, look as pretty as possible, go in groups, go alone, try harder, don’t try at all, join clubs, talk to them first? done that. it didn’t work. not in the clubs, not in the crappy bars, not before, during or after conversation. none of the guys have ever been what i would consider “unattainable”– i’m not so stupid to think a 4 could get a 9. but when everyone says if there’s a kind of life you want to live just go live it, and i’ve tried and tried and failed over and over, i must be missing something. if i change my actions and get the same results, what else can the problem be but me?

            i just don’t know what to do anymore.

    • hjkljgyhuiokjbyui says:

      fuck your assertion that being adventurous is defined by if a boy wants to fuck you. and double fuck your assertion that what makes you “you” doesnt matter if there is someone else in the room that’s prettier then you. that’s a quitters mentality and you’d think being a ct commentor you could recognise that on your own.

      get your head in the game. laying around whining that you didnt win the genetic lottery isnt going to solve shit other than give you a cheap chemical rush as you needlessly torture yourself. go read the archives, google some basic 101 level feminist “you don’t need need a man to be a person” shit for a refresher and if this self loathing shit if chronic go get some CTB. oh and burn any fashion magazines you have in the house.

      you’re probably going to do none of these things which is a shame since your almost 30 and rewiring ones brain gets hard after hitting around 25. you are past the point of finding easy answers from pop songs or comment sections. act accordingly.

      • adventureless says:

        i’ve been reading since 2009 so i don’t really need to go back through the archives, thanks. i never said a damn thing about “needing a man to be a person” and i don’t need to prove my feminist credentials to you. i haven’t bought a fashion magazine in over 15 years, and i’m already seeing a therapist.

        i hope you feel real proud of attempting to smack some old-school CT sense into me, but the difference between her and you is that she actually offered advice of substance with her swearing. Coke knows perfectly well that being pretty opens doors that being interesting does not. my comments were never about “finding easy answers from pop songs,” but rather about the fact that i can’t seem to find the lockpick or window or battering ram that’s going to help me get past those doors despite years of trying. but please, continue to explain to me why i’m a “quitter” for recognizing that men care about appearances and no amount of confidence can ever force someone to want to fuck me if he isn’t interested.

        • Chloe says:

          In my experience, there is truth in what you write, Adventureless. However, also in my experience, that was more truthful to my perspective when I was a teenager, not in my late twenties (I’m the same age as you). What kind of adventures are you looking for? I know financial limitations tend to be the main barrier for me in attempting them. What kind of relationships are you looking for – purely romantic or platonic or both? I tend to look at the people I come into contact with more now on a wider spectrum of attributes as opposed to solely if they’re attractive to me. But, that’s more due to realising that those who’ve spent their entire lives being told they’re beautiful are in most cases insufferably insecure and require constant external validation to be able to function and begin to panic if they haven’t received a compliment in a short space of time.

          I spent a majority of my youth being told I was “good looking” by family members when they tried to lift my spirits and the odd person I wasn’t related to said it also. However, it was actually exercising with weights that helped me feel better about my external appearance, particularly when I noticed my clothes fitting better and I began to dress to suit the shape I have now. I don’t use a lot of cosmetics either – cheap aqueous cream as a moisturiser, clearasil face wash daily and a tea tree oil/witch hazel face scrub every few days. I also whiten my teeth with an old electric toothbrush and a teaspoon of ground turmeric and a few drops of tap water mixed into a paste in a bowl, then rinse and an in-between brush and floss and regular toothpaste after helped brighten my smile considerably after a week or two (I did it twice a week, it looks horrific during but better after. I also stopped drinking anything with caffeine as it contributed to the staining of my teeth). I’m not going to suggest there is any quick fix to solving how you feel about yourself and you’re braver than I am for going to therapy. The idea of exposing myself to a complete stranger with eye contact truly terrifies me.

          You write, “no amount of confidence can force someone to want to fuck me if he isn’t interested.” Does it matter if some guys aren’t interested in you? No. It doesn’t and the reason why it doesn’t is because the real question is why are you interested in the guy? Are you going for the type of guy who looks like he should be on an Abercrombie advertisement? Are you pursuing relationships where you perceive you’ll be rejected before even starting? Because a lot of that emotion, that’s projection. You’re essentially projecting all your fears and anxieties from past experiences onto the current interaction and that might be what’s stopping you from being successful, too. All the person you’re interacting with (before deciding to stick around because they’re interesting, funny, smart, have a differing POV that you want to learn more about) is basing their judgment on is the same thing you are, a snap 2 second thing. They’re in the same boat as you. No one knows what anyone else is thinking. And the guys who look like they’re on the Abercrombie advertisement are just guys who are a mixture of arrogance, conceit, insecurity and fit conventional beauty standards. Their ego’s are generally as big as their inflated muscles, too. Although, one did help me buy a lovely blouse once.

          I guess what I’m trying to say in a really long-winded way is have you tried altering your perspective? Have you tried meeting new people in different surroundings to where you might usually, volunteering or a group activity like an interactive class/team sport, for example? (Essentially, a different place where your interest is concentrated on the activity at hand not on how you look or about impressing anyone). If your appearance is truly bothering you (I haven’t read all your past post, forgive me), then I guess the only other thing I can say is try some of the tips I suggested (exercising, etc.) or consider saving up for aesthetician procedures/surgery to rectify what you dislike. I’m not going to blow smoke up your ass and say, I’m sure there’s some people somewhere who are attracted to what you currently have to offer but the fact is if they live on Timbuktu that’s not any help to you unless you live there, too. Someone could be Charlize Theron but if she’s insufferable to be around, it doesn’t matter how attractive she is. No one would want to be around her, either. Whereas if someone’s not conventionally attractive but is interested in people and the world around them, is a joy to be around, everything else (hair, make up, clothes) is just window dressing.

          Lastly, this image might be of some use, too I bought the book but this sums it up nicely.

          • adventureless says:

            This is substance, so thank you for the effort put into the comment. I appreciate it.

            In this particular discussion, I am not looking for someone for long term romantic anything (and never the Abercrombie type, btw). The OP talked about getting to fuck a hot drummer and hang out backstage at Coachella. That’s the kinds of adventures I’m talking about, and that’s what Coke means when she says stay wild.

            I am not attractive enough to be wild. Makeup has never worked, losing weight never worked, throwing “glitter on my hunchback” -as someone above suggested- never worked. I’m obviously not pretty enough to catch someone’s eye. No one has ever even tried to buy me a drink. The best I’ve ever been is the grenade. And every time I attempt to approach someone myself, I get shot down. That’s not because they don’t like intelligent women, or funny women, or women with great personalities. It’s looks, plain and simple. It’s just how it is.

            As I’ve told my therapist, the only time being unattractive bothers me is when I’m trying to get male attention. Otherwise I couldn’t give a fuck. But that seems to be the most important thing for these kinds of adventures. If I’m going to go out dancing and be completely ignored and/or rejected by the men around me, what’s the point? I could just dance at home in my bedroom then and accomplish the exact same thing (and save money while I’m at it).

            It seems more and more like my only option is to just stop wanting what I want, because if it hasn’t happened by now it’s probably never going to.

  18. Xen says:

    Just started crying reading these. Coquette, you’ve given us all so much – more than anything, a feeling that we are not alone and so many of our experience and struggles are universal. This blog is a beautiful gift to the world and I am immensely grateful you selflessly led us all.

  19. Alien Visited Coachella says:

    “I went to Coachella this year and drank 1.5 litres of lemonade in half an hour. The sand was nice but it got a bit dusty. I sat down with a 1 gram joint and a microdose of LSD. After I’d swallowed and smoked it all, I lay down and observed the palm trees and the silhouettes they made in the sky.

    There was some music playing in the distance and it was too far away to tell what it was. I got out my turbo-sandsurf board and switched on the engine with a flick of the remote embedded in the microchip in my arm. I got on it easily and fast-floated two hundred metres to the south. The music got more vivid. I could hear every note of every instrument, clearly now. I adjusted my audio frequency range to hit a sweet 45 degree cross-haired angle and recorded the next song that came on. The music was kinda mixed up with all kinds of instruments; it sounded very windy. I swept the dust off me and took out my binoculars. They could see in high resolution at distances of up to half a kilometre. Out about a blurry 350 metres away lay a big white tent with shadowy figures in the hues of red, orange and turquoise waving around. To my naked eye, at least.

    I put the binoculars to my eyes and saw bizarre twisting faces, looking quite beautiful in the moonlight. It was nearly midnight. I lazily got on my board and glided back so slowly it started wobbling. I was sleepy and relaxed. It suddenly felt rather far from camp, and I was about to nod off. At camp, I opened the top flap on my tent so I could see the stars lying flat on my back. I tucked myself into bed, an old polyfibrous mattress with a cloth around it that was seaming apart. Goodnight, I thought, Coachella is wonderful.”

  20. WrkrB says:

    I’m so grossed out by this blog. I used to like it but the comment section is culty. Coke doesn’t write about anything interesting anymore. Blocking it from my phone. Coquette: I think you need to go out and get your whip back and use it to strike the cheeks of the unaware. Coddling the techno muffin mouths is a waste of your abilities.

    • verySleep says:

      The irony is that I love her for not cowing to shitty expectation; like “cracking a whip.” She’s going to continue doing whatever the fuck she wants and that makes me laugh out loud at this.
      I’ve seen nothing but continued growth and respect for her audience. What’s more is that I honestly feel like she has strengthened her grasp on what changes her words can make.

  21. re: your reply to “On your los angeles”

    take all you need, as if you need my permission. all we can do is the best we can, even if it’s not always what we would have wanted to be able to do. your faithful fans will still be here whenever.

    i was already 60 when i discovered DCT, so i’m looking at your stuff from the other side. (not that i can’t still learn sometimes from you.) i’m wishing i’d have had your advice when i was figuring it out the hard way, as i consider you amazingly centered, right on, and i like to kid myself, “zen dude”. i can’t imagine how many people you’ve helped through their crises, and bless you for it.

  22. Jessica Sen says:

    Today’s my birthday and I had Indian takeout and wine while reading a damn good book. Yay 29. What’s turning 30 like? I’m horrified by that.

  23. Chloe says:

    Jessica, I’ll let you know in about 6 weeks. I’m hoping to be living in a different timezone on another side of the world when that clock strikes midnight, though!

    P.S. Hope everything is going well with you now, and the gym’s helping. Happy belated Birthday!

    P.P.S. The icon next to my post really exemplifies the terror I feel at turning 30, shortly.

  24. KCD says:

    I’m 42 and haven’t yet felt any age-related panic. When you’re 40 you’ll realise the absurdity of your comment (in the nicest possible way :))

    • Chloe says:

      KCD, in the nicest possible way, please don’t patronise someone without knowing why they feel a certain way about their current stage of their life, regardless of how absurd their comment seems to you. Perhaps you’ve had a much easier life without your plans for your life uninterrupted up until age 42? I don’t know your circumstances, because I don’t know you 🙂

      The panic/anxiety/terror I feel is more correlated with pushing 30 and spending the last 5 years of my life after university being a full time carer to my heavily disabled grandmother with sporadic help from family members and realising that I’ve lost out on relationships, friendships, building a career, half a decade’s financial independence, contrasted with friends who I’ve since lost touch with except via glimpses of their fully independent, autonomous lives on social media and realising that my enjoyment of my supposedly ‘carefree youth’ has been eradicated through responsibilities I shouldn’t have had foisted upon me as my grandmother’s children didn’t wish to look after her or look into the reasons why the NHS was so keen to discharge her after she suffered falls in their hospital causing subsequent brain damage and was only discharged home at the time as I had previously moved in with her, when she was fully able to care for herself to ironically, be able to apply for jobs inner city. To then be told, “Oh, you needn’t have given up years of your life because the NHS was actually liable for her care after their medical negligence, but sorry, she waited longer than 36 months to file a claim so even though we are at fault, we can’t financially help you or help her (and we should have told you this before, but that would have been admitting our neglect and we thought she’d be dead within 6 months, not alive 5 years later! Ooopsies! Also, she’s not eligible for our continuing healthcare funding because a nurse unfamiliar with her various medical conditions has decided after assessing your grandmother she’s not a complete vegetable despite suffering brain damage and no you can’t ask for another assessment even though you asked for the assessment to be referred and because of what the nurse wrote, you can’t progress to the next stage of the assessment process.”)

      So, I feel my age-related panic while appearing superficial or glib to most is actually valid as it currently feels like a vast swathe of opportunities have been taken from me (for instance: try being unable to earn any meaningful amount of income because of your caring responsibilities and watching your savings dwindle while attempting to get an interview, let alone a job where the only form of ’employment’ you’ve had is caring for an elderly relative and the only experience you had prior to those circumstances occurring relevant to your chosen field was university work experience and briefly interning after graduating). Hence, using the small sum that was to be my inheritance (gifted to me by my grandmother after caring for her became too much for her and I to manage together and she had to be admitted to hospital because I injured myself through her complex care needs and lack of mobility, in addition to selling my few remaining possessions) to move overseas, thousands of miles away to finally start my life and forcing my grandmother’s children to at last deal with the issue of their mother’s care.

      • Chris says:

        While she means ‘it’s a day like many others’ in the real scope of things, I agree it’s also fair to say that she feels no panic about you being 30.

        When I turned 30 I just remember thinking that I thought I’d have done a lot more, or at least have had more success, by that point. 35 now, and while I’m well ahead of most in most areas, I still wonder if I’m ever going to make it to where I want to be.

        It’s a great paradox really – Stay Hungry, but Don’t Forget It’s All Just a Bunch of Bullshit

      • it's clear says:

        And you took full responsibility for her even though reading that it doesn’t seem like you wanted to, and you certainly had no obligations to (you didn’t)…why exactly?

        Similar to the young naive girl who could’ve chosen to have an abortion. But didn’t. And is now miserable, and terrified.

    • Jessica Sen says:

      I’m not panicked, I’m horrified. I don’t want to die but now I’m certain it’s unavoidable unless they figure out the biomechanics of immortality soon.

      Thirty years have passed in a surreal vomit of expression all geared towards ends that are continuous moving targets. All that appears to matter is the moment to moment consciousness of consciousness – of wide-eyed disbelief of the mere fact of our existence, while accepting the endless sorrow that accompanies the tragedy, yes, tragedy, of our impending deaths.

      We are all going to die, and you regard this with a state of ambivalence?

      To die is heartwrenching!

      • Chris says:

        “Surreal vomit of expression.” Very well said.

        Let’s look at it another way. Maybe to anticipate dying is heart wrenching, but to actually g is a relief.

      • it's clear says:

        Death is relief. It’s also necessary. Hopefully you have longevity and health. But wishing for immortality is sad imo… learn to accept the unknown. Embrace it.

        • Jessica Sen says:

          “You cannot feel relief (from pain) if you are dead.” -CQ

          Mortality is the only option that makes life valuable, but it doesn’t make it any less sad.

  25. KCD says:

    I’ve been through childhood sexual abuse, cancer, multiple job losses, divorce, empty nest and plenty of other meaty things, so I reckon I’ve done my time. “Absurdity” was the wrong word to use – what I meant is I think (and hope) that at the age of 40 you’ll smile when you look back on any age-related concerns you had at 30, because thirty-something is a such a lovely age bracket. It might not feel that way when you’re having a rough time, but you have beauty, strength and growing wisdom in good measure. Forty-plus is nice, too. And no doubt 40 will look great when we get to 50! 🙂

    Chloe, you’ve been incredibly selfless and you deserve a long period of happiness, the sooner the better. Being a caregiver requires huge sacrifices and it often brings a queasy blend of exhaustion, guilt, loyalty, resentment, love and frustration etc. Good luck in quickly finding an employer who recognises your strengths and potential!

    I hear you Chris. I wonder if it’s the way most people feel, especially if you have a hunger to get ahead.

    Jessica, I thought I might die a few years ago after being told I had a nasty cancer. Now I’m okay, but it was a good experience, as strange as that sounds. I was happy because I felt big, big love for the people around me, and because there was peace for me (and comfort for them) through accepting my reality, choosing how I reacted to it, and appreciating all the good things in my life. If I don’t feel peaceful, it’s usually because I’m looking ahead or behind, rather than living in the now – and I’m only human, so that happens often enough! 🙂 I hope you find your peace.

    • Chloe says:

      Hi KCD,

      I’m sorry for all the things you’ve been through, and for the tone I used in responding to your earlier comment. It wasn’t appropriate of me to project everything going on inside onto an anonymous stranger on the internet because I feel I can’t scream at my relatives as no one really listens to each other when a heated argument happens. At least, not in my family of manipulative narcissists, who after barely being around for 5 years, except to stop in and complain about their lives, decide to say to medical staff this weke and overrule me as her caregiver as they’re her children: “She’s not going in a home while I’m around!” (Despite my grandmother actually wanting to go into a home of her choosing as it’s her paying for it). Which is similar to “She’s got a big family, we’ll rally around,” 5 years ago and… no one did after the initial discharge, because I lived with her. With some luck, I’ll be moved out shortly. You’re actually the first person to recognise any of the ‘work’ I’ve done over that period of time. So, thank you for your kind words and best wishes. Good luck with everything you do in future, too.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *