About a month ago I moved 1,382 miles west to Venice, California. I live in a three-bedroom, two-bath apartment not two miles from the beach. I live with two women — an architect, who has me listed as "Ann Roommate" in her cell phone, and an aspiring director. When I moved in, the architect had a dog named Trouble, but he fell ill and was put to sleep a week ago. Occasionally I find his hairs in my room.
Those who know me or at least think they know me, might be surprised that I watched a basketball game at a sports bar tonight — and enjoyed it. My colleague introduced me to Sports Harbour, which seems to have a MySpace page but not a website. Gnawing on chicken wings and potato skins and sipping on Heffeweizen while watching the Lakers kick the Celtics' ass was not a bad way to spend a Thursday evening. On a side note, where do you think the celery and chicken wing pairing originates?
Signing off,
Ann Roommate
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