Wanted: 1 Ark

Darin and I are watching the Jackson Five cartoon show from the early 70s. Soon he will be taking off with Harry to go see Hamlet in West L.A. The three of us tried to see it yesterday, but we got there, got in line, waited a while, and then left as soon as it was sold out. Only in L.A.: a 4-hour art movie sold out. So we came back to Burbank.

Today, however, I am staying at home while they go off to see the movie (I confess: I know how it turns out). I have writing to do and I have to do it, even though my honey is in town and I'd rather spend all of my time, day and night, with him. I have to write. I have to remember that writing is a priority, not a sideline.

Yesterday, we went to Paty's Coffee House on Riverside for breakfast -- great French toast! Then we went over to the Boys, spent two hours driving to and fro West L.A., then hung out at the house for a while. I left Darin and Al playing Master of Orion II and went home to try to write. It took some time to get into it. I decided to write what I know, about a woman having trouble writing. I got started; I have to finish today.

One of the amazing things about the continual rain here is how completely unprepared Los Angeles is for it. The sewers are completely full because everybody just dumps stuff in them. The Los Angeles River, scarily enough, has water in it. (Lots of parents took their kids to see this marvel yesterday.) The ground is totally saturated; it can't take any more, and it's not like there's that much ground surface here anyhow, because it's all been paved over.

And the streets aren't evenly paved: they're more like semicircles, which create puddles -- not puddles so much as trenches, or rivers -- that go for blocks. Drive through one of those and you create a tidal wave that drenches everything on the sidewalk and twenty feet beyond.

No wonder everyone drives a four-wheel drive vehicle here.

Is there some sports event on today? Good thing I'll be working.