Hey, everybody! I am still in Los Angeles on the most anxiety-ridden vacation ever. First my bag got lost, now my leg hurts so much I can barely walk, and yesterday my rental car was damaged. Jetta vs. armored truck: armored truck wins. And no, I was not driving the armored truck. At least the driver didn’t think I was trying to rob him. No one was injured and my insurance will cover it, but I will NEVER go back to the Santa Monica Pier again. Oh, and did I mention that I missed the Mulholland Drive exit on the 405 and drove all the way to the north side of the Valley before I figured it out?
But then, when I checked into my hotel that evening, thirsty, hungry, and stressed out, I found this waiting on my pillow and on my desk:
I nearly broke down and cried. Something small and simple like finding a nice little gift in my room at the end of a crazy-ass day did wonders to cheer me up. (Though I was cheered up even more by the guy at the Visa customer service center who told me they’d cover any damages my insurance wouldn’t.)
Other than all that hoopla, LA seems to be a rather cool city. I’m going to drive around and tour different neighborhoods today. I would love to get out and walk, but my leg will have nothing of it, so I’m going to stay in my car like all the real Angelinos do!