the woman in the glossy scarlet jaguar looked like life was an inconvenience to her. she cut me off on the 405 right before the 101, and annoyed as i was, i still felt almost sorry for her. her face was lifeless, and i was glowing -- maybe not on the outside, since i did just tumble out of bed, but definitely on the inside. i don't know what it is or maybe i do and i'm just not telling you, but lately my steps have bounce, my laughter has light, my mind races with a million ideas pouring out.

six months in LA, and i still haven't been to bergamot station ("it's so close to you," says ricky, so appalled at his sister's sluggishness) or taken the blue bus to the getty. i haven't seen a band play at the house of blues or seen a disney movie at el capitan. there are a lot of things i haven't done and still want to do. but i can, and i will.

my sense of urgency is in the right place now. i'm not wasting anymore time.