...and bunches of fun. That's what last week comprised of (KC's visit) until I got my teeth yanked out. I would have liked to have updated sooner, but the pain was simply too unbearable and my energy was at an all-time low. But, now that I'm finally recuperating, I have some potentially amusing stories to tell.
It was entirely scrumptious having KC here, and we did EVERYTHING we could have possibly done. It's kind of amazing how we fit most of LA into such a short time. We did things that even I've never done, like going to the Hollywood Wax Museum or infiltrating the ghetto to explore the Watts Towers. They really were incredible, and I hope I have another guest so that I can go back and take a tour. Read KC's blog to find out everything else we did, if you care enough, (and look at all the pictures), or just assume that we did it because I'm not kidding when I say we did everything. I just got a lovely card and cookies in the mail and it brought back all the fun we had in our busy schedule taking over LA.
One of the things we did was go to LACMA where we saw this painting, along with many others:

By Gustav Klimt, it just sold for 135 million dollars, the most that any painting has ever been sold for. Before this, the most was a Picasso that was sold for a meager 104 mill. That's kind of a lot of money.
I wanted to buy this shirt and wear around all the crazy vegetarians at Reed, but it was sold out:


Maybe they'll get more. We can only hope.
I, myself, decided to swear off painting from now on. In my sick daze, I took it upon myself to paint something- and I ended up with a painting of Alex and myself, or something that slightly resembled us, and for some reason I gave it to him. I should have just hidden it and saved myself the embarrassment. He doesn't like it and he won't even take it home. I think I'm going to burn it and get rid of my failed attempt at being artistic.
I clogged the toilet for the first time in years. If I were three, I'd be proud.
Something crazy happened today. And I don't feel like writing it all down, but let's just say there was fighting and 911 calling involved, along with a stolen car and a trip to the joint. Of course, it wasn't me getting locked up. But I sure helped that fucker get there.
Ava was watching this really shitty show today about people trying to be models and I recognized this girl who I used to play basketball with in middle/high school as one of the contestants. Her mom is a model too and neither of them are very pretty. I don't even get it- she's a complete tomboy. But I guess models aren't usually pretty in real life. Most of them just look dead. Well anyway, it made me happy watching the show because they called her fat and she breaks down like the drama queen she is and starts crying and making a scene- it was funny. If you watch it, her name is Lauren Wasser and she's the really blonde one. I'm ok with her crying because she was such a ball-hog, very conceited- you know the type. Basically Kobe as a girl in high school. And she called me a lesbian a few times and it's stuck with me ever since. Bitch. So why did I just look her up on myspace and add her as my friend?
Ava wrote a poem for school that I kind of like. It's not worded as eloquently as it could be, but I like the idea. Here is her "extended metaphor"
life is a toenail
when it gets too long, you cut it off
perfectly polished with
raspberry red
but underneath there is dirt, poverty
on the surface all is well
how wonderful life is
but deep below, beneath the skin
the underworkings of life
blood pumping, workers laboring
you don't think about a toenail much
but you always know it's there
if the nail breaks off or the skin tears
the nail becomes damaged
but it always grows back