at the moment i'm trying to move my stuff out of the apartment. still kind of bothered at my roommate, but whatever.

i realized that i must have some cosmic connection with the men who hang out at parking lots. first there my friend louis, the cracked out man who hangs out at the parking lot of the 3 clubs on santa monica and vine. he's cool, apparently he used to be a really good basketball player and was going to go pro, but the drugs got in the way. he's cool, he helped get my passed out friend in my car and then threatened to kick his ass if he gave me any trouble or puked in my car. i always keep an eye out for him, because he is a nice guy who remembers me when i see him.

then yesterday, my car was acting stupid. i pulled into a grocery store parking to go buy water and let it cool down. at this point of the day i was quite out of it, semi-crazed, etc. this guy pulled up next to me on his bike and asked for my name. i gave it. he said i looked familiar, i said i get that often. he asked if i had a sister, i said yes but she's 33. he then asked if i was from northern california, i said i went to school there. then he asked "where are your parents from?" i said, "el salvador"
he then went into this long story on how we should start a company, that would produce comforters, with fabric from ecuador. he would help me sew, and i could market it all on e-bay. and how we would give back to my people in ecuador, "but i'm from el salvador."

i said" sir, it sounds like a great idea, you should really follow it, but right now i have to buy water for my car before it overheats again"

he said" do you want to get into a club for free?"

"no thank you. i'm tired."

"ok then bye"

me: "bye, good luck with everything!"


plus i got the suicidegirls book. it's pretty

time to pack again, and write some letters.