Hi Lug Nuts!
I'll write soon, I promise. ToDAY HAS been a major t.c.o.b. day after the best weekend in recent memory. i'm doing laundry, which means walking out into the dry Hollywood afternoon to the back of the apartment courtyard. there are bottle-brush trees everywhere back there. at night skunks are back there too so you have to look out. and scary opossums. boo!
another perfect beach day, but i already went yesterday.
if i lived at the beach i could go all the time. fuck.
if beverly hills had allowed a freeway through it, i could live at the beach and still go to shows in hollywood all the time.
last night i went to bed at 2 a.m. and i could hear the hollywood freeway as if it were the ocean outside my window. when i really think about it i realize that i live one block from the freeway. and then i feel sick in my tummy. it ain't right to live that close to the freeway. no wonder my place is always dirty.
it's the freeway's fault.
and all those cds and magazines everywhere, and the dirty dishes? that's the freeway's fault.
and my zits, and my sucky boyfriends?
the nightmares and the war?
those might be the opossums' fault.
more later,
love,
Kate
I'll write soon, I promise. ToDAY HAS been a major t.c.o.b. day after the best weekend in recent memory. i'm doing laundry, which means walking out into the dry Hollywood afternoon to the back of the apartment courtyard. there are bottle-brush trees everywhere back there. at night skunks are back there too so you have to look out. and scary opossums. boo!
another perfect beach day, but i already went yesterday.
if i lived at the beach i could go all the time. fuck.
if beverly hills had allowed a freeway through it, i could live at the beach and still go to shows in hollywood all the time.
last night i went to bed at 2 a.m. and i could hear the hollywood freeway as if it were the ocean outside my window. when i really think about it i realize that i live one block from the freeway. and then i feel sick in my tummy. it ain't right to live that close to the freeway. no wonder my place is always dirty.
it's the freeway's fault.
and all those cds and magazines everywhere, and the dirty dishes? that's the freeway's fault.
and my zits, and my sucky boyfriends?
the nightmares and the war?
those might be the opossums' fault.
more later,
love,
Kate
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