Spent the day traveling. Woke yesterday, Saturday, quite ill. Threw up a lot (it was fun), then lay in bed clutching stomach, sweating, dozing, and watching Mad Men. Whoever casts that show is a genius. Watched the whole second season yesterday, fell asleep at 2:30, woke at 5:30 Sunday morning (today) in 17 degree New York, went outside into the freezing fucking air, got into a cab, went to JFK (full of stomach-calming pills), boarded a plane, flew for six hours, and emerged into 60 degree weather in Los Angeles, where I'll be taking an extended vacation. (I'm still a New Yorker, don't worry.) Since I don't have a job, why not spend the winter out here before I have to get another one? Went straight to the house where I'm renting a room (my roommate is the talented director of Dockweiler, which I wrote about before; strange how things come together), which has a jawdropping view from a deck which, as Nick pointed out, is a little unstable (it has a big hole in it) and hangs over a roughly three-story drop directly onto cacti.
The deck is, however, stable enough for me to go out and read books on it in the afternoons, which I'll be doing a lot. Productivity TK.
Went from there to the Superbowl party of a college classmate, saw old friends etc, then went to eat Israeli food with Russell, now back and about to read some Tony O'Neill. It feels fucking supernatural that I was in 17 degree weather this morning and the sky was slate blue here.
Also, I don't have a car and I have to buy one immediately.