Hey sis, it’s me.
It’s a chilly, gray morning in Bridgeport. Come to think of it, most mornings in Bridgeport are chilly and gray. And everything here is so... tall.
Above is a picture of my new workplace. It’s the Plumbob Pictures backlot. Get it, Plumb Bob?
Although when I got there this morning I was referred to as “the kid with the fruit name.”
“He came in this morning,” director Alan Stanley said, “I don’t know who he is, name is Peach, Pear –“
“It’s Plumb,” I told him. “Like the name of the studio.”
“Oh,” he said, giving me a small sideways grin.
When I’m not in class or studying, I’m checking out Bridgeport’s um, vibrant, nightlife. I have to admit the nightlife was the town’s main appeal for me. That and the fact that nobody knows who I am here. Yet.
I crashed Lilly-Bo’s house party last night. I have no idea who she is, only that she has a hip bachelorette pad.
It doesn’t help that the women here are… well, well-endowed. Like the blond in the pink dress. Kind of looks like a Barbie doll.
I even have my own paparazzi guy following me around. It’s actually kind of creepy.
Here I am studying my acting book with a view from my penthouse apartment. Well, gotta go,
Love, Bassy
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