Heinemacher Herr

Waking up for day two in LA, I found I had an itch to clean which would not be ignored. After a quick trip to the 99-cent store for supplies (upon which I’m pretty sure I walked by a hirsute Joseph Gordon-Levitt, I sunk my hands into Max’s living room, spending the better part of a day moving furniture, stacking up laundry, garbage, and disorganized possessions in piles, vacuuming, rolling up rugs, sweeping, wiping surfaces with a pine sol, and putting all the furniture back where I found it. In the end I found I was able to place his guest mattress out of the way of foot traffic, which before had been impossible.

After being duly impressed by my handiwork and having another lasagna dinner, Max took me to see a movie premier which we missed, and to a big Mexican bar downtown. After a couple drinks, we headed home and chanced to stop by an open mic mere blocks from Max’s apartment on the way, which culminated in a very lively hip-hop show which I found highly amusing.

Sweet home, Los Angeles

The Indio Greyhound station is a weird scene. Between the homeless man yelling semi-intelligible profanities at the girl behind the ticket counter and the gangsters with face tattoos eyeing you apprehensively, it makes for a rather unnerving place to wait nearly three hours for a bus. Add to that the San Bernardino rush hour traffic and wait for my ride from the abominable Los Angeles Greyhound station and you can perhaps understand my feeling a relief at finally drifting off to sleep at Max’s apartment.

The next day, between naps, I found the time to buy groceries and prepare a twelve servings’ worth of lasagna noodles and filling. When Max came home from work, we cooked up a batch for dinner and then walked to get gelato at a place on nearby Sunset Boulevard where I’m certain I spotted Jena Malone!