just listen

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I never realized before that freeways come to an end; they just flow back into real streets like nothing ever happened, like you were never going 80 at 4 AM next to a 16-wheeler, thinking about your ex. The glow of movies on big screens? This entire city is basking in that glow. That glow can carry you home over and under passes and through seemingly endless ritzy and rickety neighborhoods. The hills — Silver Lake, Hollywood, whatever all those other ones are — they wink at you. They glitter and glint and make you feel like you’re in on the joke; that you’re living in a feature film.

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Nicole’s been sick since January. I’ve been sick 4 or 5 times since moving here.  So, we’re finally on antibiotics and on our way to recovering. Probably should not have gone out last night, but it was Christian’s birthday and I made red velvet cupcakes. And I scored 300 in skee ball, beating all the bearded fools left and right.

Today: rest. And cleaning. And more rest.

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In the depths of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.  Camus

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Insane couple days.  Papa A rolled into our housewarming party Saturday night, which needless to say, stressed the shit outta me. Finally experienced Peter Luger’s (so-so and cash only, friends). Said goodbye to him yesterday. New Museum leap year shindig last night and then too much whisky.  It was really needed.

A million other things to comment on –

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