Of Apartments and Moving.

Today, at 8:00am, I rolled off the floor and headed out to look at a new apartment. It has everything; a fantastic, friendly landlord (who says, "Paint everything, put up whatever decorations you want - if you get it, you can make it fabulous"), a perfect location (in-between a park and an Art Museum, and kiddie-cornered to a 24 hour grocery), and AC/Heat All Utilites Included. It's a great, cheap price, and I was the first applicant. If all goes well, it's mine on Wednesday. And then I get a Job. I really love Los Angeles. Amsterdam was certainly a remarkable experience, but once you're away, it's hard to keep the tethers intact. The atmosphere, the memories slip out of your brain like oiled satin in your fingers. In fact, driving my car up Fairfax feels like ... I never went anywhere. It's disconcerting and a little bit sad. But only for a bit. Then I tour the comic book stores and smile at cute girls and think, "Amsterwhat?" Ha. See, I put a what at the end of Amsterdam to make for a little word play.

Wow. I'm tired.