So five years ago on my 22nd birthday, it came as a shocker to them and my whole family, as well as friends, that I wanted to leave Ohio behind. I no longer wanted to study hard to become a nurse. I realized it was no longer my calling. I realized staying in Ohio and working at a county hospital wasn't my dream anymore and it didn't sit right in my heart. I had been way more ambitious than that and to my parent's chagrin had always dreamt of being a star or seeing my name in lights. I wanted people to recognize me and to know I was worth more than just a measly salary. I was willing to just pack up my bags and hop on a plane. I wanted to go to LA. I knew the opportunities there were endless, plus I'd never been west of the Mississippi River. Yes, us Midwestern-types are not the best at traveling. Anyways, I did just that…sorta.

With some well-wishes and not so well-wishes, I ended up cruising out of Lancaster in an old pick-up truck that my father was willing to part with. It had been decided by my parents that I forgo a flight and have my own way of getting around from the get go. So I had to drive thousands of miles and endless hours, while relying on my GPS system. I swear that thing gave me errors and malfunctioned like crazy, but in the end it did lead me to LA. The best thing the automated voice had said was, "Arrived at destination!". I finally felt relieved and more than ready for my new adventure. I was ready for the new life that awaited me.

The very first thing I noticed when I made it to LA was the streets were lined with palm trees. Big, beautiful green palm trees. They made the atmosphere so tropical and sexy feeling. Nothing like Ohio, that's for sure. The sidewalks also had beautiful people walking along them. No one had jeans or long-sleeve shirts on. Everyone, and I mean everyone, was dressed like it was spring or summer. In actuality it had been November. The girls were small, little things with big boobs and the men like hot models. Suddenly, I knew that I really didn't fit in at first glance. I would have to change myself. Not that I wanted to change and not that my parents would want to lose the baby girl they raised, but I knew being plain Jane from Ohio wasn't going to cut it anymore. I just hoped that I wouldn't lose myself altogether.

The very first night I spent in LA took place in the pick-up truck. I had come to the city with just enough money to find an apartment, but no real plans. So when the sun rose the next morning, I picked up an LA Times newspaper and I looked at the classified section. There in bold print was an ad for a roommate. Plus the price was something I could afford. As long as I could get along with the girl who'd put the ad out, I knew I could have a place to call my very first LA home.

I ended up hitting it off with Mel, (aka Melissa, but she HATES it when you call her that), right away and found out she was also from the Midwest. She told me about her life in a small town just out of Chicago and I knew we were perfectly matched. So she let me put down a payment for a month of rent immediately! I moved in all that I had and slept in a nice, warm spare bed on what was only my second night in the city of glitz and glam. I knew I was fortunate and hoped that things remained just as lucky. So far not too shabby……

Mel and I have been best friends for five years now. We no longer live in the same apartment, but we live close enough that we can drop in on each other. She's like the sister I don't have back home in Ohio. I really don't know if I could've lasted this long away from Lancaster and in a foreign place without her. We've had ups and downs, but always managed to pull through.

I'm 27 now, going onto 28 in a few months, and Mel just turned 30. I tease her about being old now, but she just laughs it off. Laughter is the best medicine. I like to think so at least. So in the five years I've been a new woman, I've had a variety of changes and experiences.

I changed the way I dressed. I could no longer hide my body away and wear frumpy old granny clothes. I added highlights to my hair because no one in LA keeps their natural color. Shoe-wise it's all about flip flops now, seeing as there are over three hundred days of pure sunshine in the Los Angeles area. I started going for manicures and pedicures. I shave and wax more often too. I also went from just basic concealer and very little eye shadow on my face to knowing how to add more makeup to bring all the boys to my yard. At least hoping it would bring more boys to the yard.

Speaking of boys, I've been engaged twice. Neither made it to the altar though. Sigh. One was out of my own stupidity for believing I'd found a genuine man in Hollywood. People just shouldn't date actors. That's my free advice. I found him in bed with his male co-star a month before the wedding. I still cringe at the mental image in my head from that sordid memory. I guess his acting skills were so top-notch that he fooled me. Not once had I thought he was gay, but Los Angeles is the home of illusions. The other engagement was one I'd rather not speak of. It was more of a prank than a genuine intention. It was a good thing it ended before it began or else I'd probably be a divorcee.

So two botched engagements behind me, no boyfriend at the moment, and just still kicking it back. Los Angeles is the best place to party the night away. I go to nightclubs when I'm in the mood and I shake my ass to the hot beats of the Dee-jays. I tend to get free drinks from various men, but rarely phone numbers. If I do get a phone number, I don't call back. I know for a fact that most of the men here aren't worth my time. As much as I am not the same girl from Ohio, I certainly am not an all out LA girl with no brains. I am a smart, strong individual, at least I hope so, and I need a man with real substance. A man who doesn't want every dime a dozen blonde bimbo. A man who knows there is one special woman out there for him and isn't afraid to commit. I want to feel treasured by the next man I date because Los Angeles may be full of "stars", but I am a whole constellation.

As for the many stars in Hollywood, I've met quite a few in the past years. Bumped into Ryan Gosling at Subway, Paris Hilton at a day spa, Britney Spears at Starbucks, and JC Chasez at a bookstore, to name some encounters.

The latter was my favorite and best encounter. I had found the former *NSYNCer in an aisle looking for a new novel to read at Barnes & Noble. The book I wanted happened to be in the same aisle and I had to squeeze past him to get to it. Somehow with his cool demeanor, he struck up a conversation with me and in the end asked me to go to lunch at Mel's Drive In with him. Lunch went off without a hitch and we formed a friendly connection. A connection that blossomed in the following weeks and grew into a best friends type of relationship. He got me and I got him. He was one of the few people in Hollywood that hadn't let celebrity get to his head and tried to remain humble. I had to respect that, especially coming from a similar background.

Yet…our friendship faded away and I lost my best male friend. Two years ago, JC went in one direction and I seemed to go in the other. I was busy trying to find a new job and deciding if I should even remain in LA, while JC was trying to revive his music career and caught a case of Los Angelitis. He stopped calling and inviting me to hang out, so I decided to not put in the effort either. I had met fake people before and if JC wasn't willing to be real anymore, I didn't need him.

So far I haven't needed him.

I, Skyler Raine Covington, have survived five years, almost six, in LA, two broken engagements, endless nights of clubbing, conversations with some of the fakest people on the planet, bad auditions, crappy jobs, and faded friendships. Most importantly, I've been an independent and wise woman. I've not relied on any man in quite awhile and my last date was months ago. So why would I possibly need to reconnect with JC Chasez?