You Can Pry My Almond Milk From My Dead Hands



I am an almond-milk drinker.

I am twenty something years old.

I am an LA girl.

I live in Silverlake.

Actually, Echo Park.

Somewhere between Hollywood and Downtown. I don’t know. I’m not from here.

There’s never any parking on my street but the rent’s a lot cheaper than downtown. I have a roommate I met on Craigslist. She makes videos on YouTube. It’s not so bad. I made my own kombucha once with a culture I bought on the Internet. I’m a millennial.

The first thing I do in the morning is pour myself a cup of cold-brewed coffee from the $8 bottle I get from Whole Foods. I mix it with almond milk. It’s better that way.

I’d probably be able to afford a nicer place if I didn’t spend all my money on expensive coffee, almond milk, and trendy workouts. I eat gluten-free and vegan products, but I don’t have any kind of food intolerance.

But I like the idea that almond milk is a dairy alternative. Because I like the word alternative.

I go to Starbucks and talk to the barista who already knows my order.

Her name is Shea.

She’s an aspiring actress. She takes improv classes and wrote a web series last summer. You can see her show for free on Thursday nights. She’s also a bartender.

Every morning, I drink almond milk, even though I know it’s nothing more than a handful of nuts suspended in tap water, and that it takes a gallon of water to grow a single almond. But real milk feels too corporate. I’d rather spend my money on cleverly packaged nut-water than the bio-waste cow-juice by-product of the Industrial Food Complex. I don’t know. I read that on a blog once.

I have to work as a personal assistant, and do some nannying on the side. I don’t like kids.

Sometimes I talk to my roommate’s psychic.

My best friend was in an Audi commercial once. Sometimes, when we are bored, we smoke weed and talk about going on a juice cleanse. I read her my OKCupid messages out loud and then we watch Netflix and drink wine. I give her some of my Xanax. She has a girlfriend. They met at The Abbey.

A bottle of regular milk from Whole Foods costs $4. Open bottles can be returned for a refund, if they’re glass.

Yoga mats can get slippery if one is not careful.

My best friend from the Audi commercial says that it’s a scandal how many people still drink real milk.

Here is what I can do:


Spend an entire day watching television.

Take an Ambien and sleep-buy a bunch of things I don’t need.

Consume mass amounts of dairy alternative products.

Oh my Lord but my life is fulfilling.

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