Look. i'm in LA! Surprisingly like minnesota, right? well you know what they say about LA -- the st. paul of the west coast. i wore a long-sleeve ankle length tube of b.o. inducing Qiana nylon/poly knit from the 70s in a print that spoke strongly of a tragic skin condition, wedged in the middle seat between two arm rest aggressors for 3-1/2 hours, stood in a 57-person line at the rental care agency behind a chinese couple who spoke no english and rented a big american-style suv til i got the keys to my chevy aveo or similar (check here if you'd like us to whiz by and wave after you're stalled on the 405) that i did not realize was manual until one transmission later. bing bang, i say la cieNAga and sepulVEDa in quick succession (to the delight of locals as they have not yet had their slurry of xanax and coffee) and a few near-death moments later i'm at the goodwill on beverly
scaring chatting up nice people wearing shades of blue (her pants are actually navy even if they look black) and super stealth leopard slippers. i got some bright yellow heels and a rash here! success!