I slept insanely well in Santa Monica. A combination of the super luxe beds at the Viceroy - massive and downy and heavenly - and crazy long days where I didn't stop thinking for like 16 hours straight. I'd get into bed and fall asleep instantly, dream only a little and wake up loath to get out of my little bunny nest.
In LA not so much. Maybe it's the energy or I'm a spoiled princess with a pea underneath my fifteen mattresses. But my dreams are feverish. I go in and out of sleep and can't tell what I dreamed and what really happened. For instance, at least twice I've dreamed of things happening in the room I'm in right now. Then my friend texted me and I dreamed it was him for a full 10 minutes before I actually looked at my phone.
My days are different in LA too. My dad runs errands all day long. That's all he does is go and see people, I have to force him to stop and take me to lunch and not answer his telephone. But this time I am too spent on Southern Cali to go along for the ride. So I'm spending an inordinate amount of time in this very hotel room watching cable and playing Nintendo and trying not to get into any trouble with these rowdy ass LA boys I see everywhere I turn.
When dad is done with after-lunch errands, he picks me up again before the next set. We went out for Mexican food last night and watched the last half of the LA/SA game. Funnest of all was teaching him to play Brain Age on my DS. His brain measures out at like a million years old mostly cause he can't quite grasp the idea of a touch screen. Hee.
Today we're picking up a DS for him on our way to brunch. Old as he is, I will guide him gently by his player's elbow into the twenty-first century, where we will emerge victorious and digitally empowered. I can deliver him hugs and kisses and spreadsheets without catching a plane to give them all to him every single time. We'll rule the world, then.
Happy Labor Day Weekend. I hear I'm missing Carnival, which would make me cry if my old man wasn't such a hoot.
Love,
Love
P.S.: for some reason I woke up singing "Roses" by Outkast this morning. First thing. Stuck in my head for the last hour or so, it will be my soundtrack of the day. LA begs this soundtrack. LA makes these girls. LA loves these hos. Believe me, I seen it.
No comments:
Post a Comment