I had a pretty odd and funny week after I put Skye on the plane back to Atlanta.
I turned to booking.com and found an affordable place down in Redondo. I thought I knew which place it was, but I was wrong.
I thought it was just a block from the beach. It was three, not bad. But it was much, much further south than I thought.
In the end I happened upon a perfect sunset accompanied by a uekelele, followed with a wonderful Thai meal in the restaurant joined to the hotel.
But the next day, was the traffic.
That was not the last straw.
Monday I ended up working, out of the same warehouse facility our storage is located, which was a double edge sword. On one hand, I didn't need to make an extra trip to continue organizing our stuff. On the other hand, I was already completely burnt out on dealing with all our stuff.
To cut down on the drive time, I booked a hotel in Hollywood, right on the Strip, Hollywood La Brea Motel
I knew it wouldn't be anything like the Roosevelt, but....
It was funky, but like I said I wasn't expecting that much, however....
I get to my room and it's not been cleaned. OK, I can deal with that. There was something I wanted to pick up from Hollywood Toy and after that I could head on over to the Frolic Room. It had been ages since I had been there.
So off I went, down Hollywood Blvd, always an interesting stroll, especially in summer.
It was a good trip and I had a nice comfortable buzz. I would get back to room and check out some TV and ....
I couldn't find the remote.
Fine, I would just get up and do without, no problem.
I power on the TV and horribly graphic adult film is on, and loud.
I go to switch channels but the controls are busted out. I grab a pen and try to poke around the broken faceplate, meanwhile the action and sound on the screen continues. I manage to turn the sound down, but have no luck on the changing channels.
I turn it off and return to searching for the remote. To no avail. I do some other stuff and then turn the TV on again. Maybe there's something else on. There was but same genre;
I call the front desk. They had the remote. I needed to give an $8 deposit and go pick it up.
After watching some forgettable TV and bits of movies that I'd seen many times before, I finally fell asleep, only to be woken up in the early morning hours by loud voices. Ladies of the night finishing their shifts from the sound of it.
Fortunately, a couple of my friends had gotten back to me. I had "booked" couches to crash on for the remainder of the week.
Couch Surfing...Chasing Mavericks
House sitting comes with certain responsibilities, as does hitting your buddies up for a place to crash. It usually consists of "catching up", which I'm all for, but it can and does take a toll, particularly when you go to a different pal's house every other night.
I got to see what La Crescenta-Montrose's night life was like after taking in more meats than I'd had in the last several weeks at a wonderful Brazilian steakhouse.
I heard jazz while chilling on a blanket at LACMA and then talked and talked till just a few hours shy of sunrise.
And then was treated to an incredible home-made meal with plenty of vino and stories of trips abroad.
I think I did a pretty good job as a guest, only to be rivaled by my wonderful hosts and hostesses.