And before that...

Let it be known: Ann Jaeger and Ryan Nelson packed ALL of my shit into a stank-ass U-Haul that i rented (with no tape deck and some kinda busted-ass gas pedal), drove it across our great nation in five days, and helped me unpack it in my new place, and do you know what they asked for in return? Not a damn thing. Can you fucking believe? Here's the even better part: i gave them $800 for gas and incidentals when they left and was all, "just keep what's left over" thinking i was all magnanimous, and the gas alone was about $800. Oh and by the way: Fuck U-Haul.

And thank you kindly Ann Jaeger and Ryan Nelson, thank you forever and superdeep.

Oh and speaking of massive amounts of dollars blowing away like so many autumn leaves, a comedy of errors led to Ann and Ryan missing their flight home sunday morning, which cost a cool $600. It was the best. So fucking stupid too, do you wanna know what happened? We're getting ready for bed saturday night, and ryan asks what time we're waking up, thinking i was going to set an alarm. So i told him 5, thinking he was going to set an alarm (i thought i saw him fiddling with something, but it turns out that something was his fingers, on which he was counting the number of hours of sleep he would be getting.) So neither of us sets an alarm and both of us go to sleep secure and happy in the knowledge that we will be getting up at 5 the next day.

It gets better. At 4:30, i woke up (hollyweird is fucking NOISY, i'll tell you what) and i was all, "hmm... i probably shouldn't even go back to sleep, i'll just make myself more tired. Yeah, i'll stay up." And so, mind made up to stay awake, i naturally went right back to sleep. Then i woke up at 6:30. It took a good ten minutes for me and ryan to work out the fact that no alarm had been set.

2 hours sleep? Sleep that i had already talked myself out of at 4:30? That'll be $600. Thanks, come again.

Anyway: my apartment is super cool but i need trash bags. I mean what good is an apartment without trash bags? A nice neighbor helped us with the couch for no good reason, and it turns out he used to live in philly and has been to space 1026, and we talked about comics and musics, which was nice. But it started to really sink in last night that i really live really close to that sc*ent*l*gy building, and as terrific of a view it makes, it's also just about as scary as fuck. I shouldn't even be writing about them in my diary, they're going to find me. Ok from now on when i say "they who do chicken right," you'll know what i mean. Capisce?

Also LA car insurance is going to put me in the poor house, where i will starve and die with flat, lifeless hair. Remember that reckless driving ticket? Guess who's wishing she said "Fuck AOL, i'm staying in court today and fighting for my right to drive fast" that fateful court date? Here's a hint: When she's not busy lustfully licking her car insurance bill, She thinks it's really entertaining to blow lots and lots of dollars on unnecessary, unsatisfying sleep. ESPECIALLY dollars she doesn't have.