tabula rasa

home again.

Easily lost 15 pounds on the Gluten-Free Vegetarian New Orleans diet. (And sweating out half my body weight every day might have contributed ... or removed, as the case may be. New Orleans giveth, and new orleans taketh away.)

Back in L.A. only to drive around looking at apartments all week in oppressively hot weather in a car with no air conditioning. You'd think after six weeks of suffering the perils of Louisiana: the humidity and the wreckage and the long work days and the horse flies, etc. and so on; I'd be happier to be home but .. in retrospect, it was kind of fun. I saw a statue of Ignatius J. Reilly. I got peed on by a turtle. I bought a chandelier. I took lots of great mannequin pictures. I gambled with someone else's money and won ten bucks. And I met a few people (who in some cases I'll probably never see again) that I'm going to miss very much. In fact, I'm just plain going to miss seeing everyone all the time, because when you're freelance, they just come and go. or actually it's you (well, me) that comes & goes, but I'll always blame someone else if I can get away with it. Either way, I miss everyone ("don't ever tell anyone anything ... ").

And there's nothing like living in a hotel for awhile to make you realize your apartment is filthy and you have too much clutter, or that you've, for example, been very stressed out living in your building for a variety of reasons for years and have avoided spending much time there without even realizing you were doing it ... just hypothetically.

but alas: I get to start over.

Here's the new place, naked, unaware of impending books and cats and clutter.

(there is another room back there, and a humongous walk-in closet)

(this is my favorite thing)

(and this is my other favorite thing)

There you go: stalkers, now you just have to figure out the street.

Oh yeah - the show I just worked on is called 13!
crazy.