I am back in Los Angeles, in a very pink room, which I think I am going to paint sky blue.  Being in this pink room is a vast improvement over the situation of two nights ago, wherin I was sleeping in the kitchen.  Yes, it’s true, I am that kind of lady.  Speaking of which, “That Kind of Lady” is probably going to be the title of my autobiographical, twelve-dollar trade paperback novel/book of letters.

Hey, so we went to see a movie at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery, and it was super!  Seeing a movie in the cemetery, I mean.  The movie, not so hot.  It was this terrible thing with Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie, and the entire audience got a bad case of the giggles when Donald came on screen with his curly mop and rather distinguished moustache, and things just went downhill from there when Donald took off his pants. And then he was murdered by a troll!  There, I’ve spoiled the ending, now you don’t have to go see it.

And I went to the doctor today regarding my mysterious mystery ailment of the past few weeks, even though I’m feeling better, because whenever I’m sick I just assume I have syphillis or plague and I like verifying that that is not the case.  The doctor did not disappoint.  She diagnosed me with “some weird virus that has gone away.”  So that’s reassuring.

One of the worst things about the internet is how it has enabled me to become an irrational hypochodriac.  Like, last week I had a rash.  The Mayo Clinic website provided me with a fascinating list of conditions and ailments that cause rashes, syphilis being among them, so I immediately decided that, clearly, this was what was wrong with me.  Nevermind that my rash did not in any way resemble a syphilis rash, which is normally found on the palms of the hands and soles of the feet, whereas mine was ON MY LEGS – I immediately assume that not even the worst-case scenario, but the stupidest-case scenario, must be true.  So, that’s how I spent my last week at home in Canada:  worrying about syphilis, an disease that I could not possibly have actually caught.  But all was not for naught, for now, I am a self-educated expert on the disease.  Did you know that there are four phases?

1.  You get a giant, gross, painless sore at the site of infection.

2.  You get a rash and flu-like symptoms.

3.  You go into a latent phase where there are no symptoms.

4.  You become Friedrich Nietzshe.

Anyhow, that’s all.  I didn’t see nearly everyone I meant to see while I was home, due to my non-syphilitic “weird virus”, and also because I did too much traveling and got tired so next year you all have to come to see me.  This post was incoherent and I miss my mom and dad.  But what can you do?

I want a Tim Hortons ham and cheese tea biscuit.

OH WAIT!  I almost forgot about my big news.  My big news is that I have decided on a new tactic regarding boys.  My new tactic is:  celibacy.  It’s going really well so far.