is there something wrong with me?

I can't believe I'm going to admit this, but I was thinking about it on my drive home from school this afternoon. I'm so used to driving back during the peak of rush hour that it was odd to actually think about random things besides how much I want to escape gridlock and that those lala people should get the lead out of their asses and on their feet.

Anyway, I think I like L.A. I can hear Allie gasping. She probably won't speak to me for a week.

What made me come to this conclusion? Well, I think there's something about playing hostess that gives you pride in your space. Touring Allie around for so long was a real boost to that. Plus, I spent two nights this week with a prospective USC Ph.D. student (I sure hope he chooses us!) giving advice on things like bars, routes to take ("Beverly is very fast."), and god knows what else.

We went to Akbar last night. The final word on that one: it's gay. I was the only straight person in there. So I guess my gay-bar cherry was finally popped.