Rose Parade

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Sunday, June 18, 2006

Life in the 318 - End of the weekend edition

I slept in both days. It felt good. Hmmm, still tired, go back to sleep. What a concept. Fuck the office life. But damn, this weekend went fast. I mean, they all do, but this one for some reason faster than usual. I think it was the sleeping in thing. Damned if I do, damned if I don't. It's hot so I stayed in. I kept the air conditioner on whenever and however long I felt like and needed it. DWP bill be damned. I downloaded some music then updated my ipod. I cleaned out my walk-in closet so that I can actually walk in it, as opposed to clambering over shit in it. Everything is so cramped here. I did four loads of laundry. Benefits of apartment rental over home ownership? I can do multiple loads at once and that's without leaving the 3rd floor. The parents sent me birthday cards and checks. Some of which is going to this. So long, cheap-ass boombox from Rite Aid! Well, after I finish getting my cds onto the ipod, which will take some time. But I made a dent this weekend, so it's just a matter of time. The rest is going into the little Corolla, which I am now obsessed with fixing up. It's gonna get all sorts of stuff, like new belts and hoses and fluid and various and sundry repairs, because it just needs to run and honestly, I gotta say that when I make the effort, the little cheapie cleans up good. It's really a cute little blue thing when I clean it up, which I have been loathe to do for the past few years. It's easy to blow off the car when you're staying local, even in L.A., and especially in Hollywood (the town, not the industry). Dad also sent pictures. One showed my Mom still smoking. Not good. But the rest showed her happy and (yes, Dad) relaxed. And seeing her blue and white stuff all over the house (front patio, kitchen and God knows where else) lit me up like a Christmas tree. And she's out collecting shells and just generally having a good time. About damn time. I'm glad. Liz hit the inaugural local bloggers performance of Subject Line Here and pronounced it "superfun" and suggested that I not miss it again. Will do. She also mentioned that we're overdue for lunch and attributed it to her having had a brutal pay period. Ah, the life of someone who plunged into debt to get educated. I wish someone had explained to me that even middle class white girls are eligible for financial aid in the form of student loans before I hit my late 30's. Not to discount Liz's financial struggles, which I genuinely sympathize with, but I would have happily racked up that kind of debt earlier in life in return for the experience and education that debt bought. And now I will try not to wonder how much, if any, different things would be now. Because it could very well push me over an edge of some sort. Better not to think about it. Back to my weekend: the frat house in 418 was a bit thumpier than than I would prefer, but nothing like that Sunday night a few months back when they kept me awake with their track running, Animal House, 80's drug imbibing party that had me seriously considering ratting them out to management. Whoever the guy was who was sitting out on the balcony that night, fucked up beyond all shit, seemed to have retired until yesterday. But this is Hollywood - if the neighbors are making a little (non-stop, just enough to be obnoxious but not enough to call the cops) noise, then I guess I should consider myself lucky, at least until I can get the fuck out of this town. I'm convinced that one of the reasons I'm paying below market rate for my apartment is because I don't complain about this kind of stuff. Even though I'd be perfectly entitled to. And yet I don't. Until then, just another way too short weekend in the 318.


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