I wasted most of my last day in L.A. recovering from the drunken night. By the time the haze of the hangover had lifted, we were hanging out with Victoria, whose stories are always entirely unbelievable, yet always 100 per cent true.
After food and drinks at two different places, we wind up at Birds, where I got to meet Jeremy, the man who started my whole "commission a work" project by writing this to me: "If I pay you a dollar, will you write about how great I am?"
Well, I thought Jeremy was great before, but after he drove all the way from pretty much San Diego, just to hang out with us for a few hours, his greatness increased considerably (I have a picture, Slax, of the two of us together - just to make you jealous, I'll post it when I get a chance).
Last to arrive on the scene was The Redhead - a Seattle compatriot who was coincidentally spending time in the area. She contributed to the spirit of the occasion by creating a mandala out of sweetener.
Somehow, the lot of us avoided getting arrested and I even got five hours of sleep before heading to the airport.
I'm flat out exhausted. My friend's death and all the heartache and all the travel have caught up with me. So, physically, I'm beat but my spirits have been lifted by meeting up with so many friends (thank you). And now I'm writing this in my journal while sitting next to the only empty seat on my flight home.
Maybe my luck has turned.
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