Dammit, Jean.

A piece of my heart is in Los Angeles

so long as the people I love still live in that gigantic concrete headache.

Before the move-in, mom, Hannah and I went to Disneyland and got to see Cars Land. It was a HOOT! I got sick at Pizza Port, but whatever, it’s delicious. And I realized that I’m old now because I can only ride Tower of Terror once before getting motion sick. It used to take 15 times (Hannah and I once literally rode Tower of Terror 15 times in one day).

The move-in was relatively painless. I became a human pack mule for a while, but there was only one flight of stairs to haul stuff up. We were able to finish all the cleaning and assembling and organizing before we all started to hate each other, and once the work was over her room looked absolutely adorable. Mission success.

Best of all, I got to see an unbelievable amount of people, which was a pleasant surprise. I thought I’d get maybe two or three hang-outs, considering I couldn’t get myself anywhere, but what transpired instead was an orgy of friendship and beers in Santa Monica, followed by a lovely evening with Mike and Eric during which absolutely was rearranged or stabbed, nope, nothin’.

All this trip was missing was an extra day to see Jo, but oh well. She’ll be in the correct half of California soon enough.

Next up is a few days in Mendocino with the Gay-dy Bunch and our hippy friends, and then a week in Colonial Williamsburg with mom because she thought it’d be fun.

After that, Le Sac better prepare itself because we’ll have a looot of ridiculousness to catch up on.