Little bit of Rebecca Kean's LA and Life Now

Update: I did indeed move out of the house of recovering addicts. And I did this less than a week after the previous post. Once they drank all my milk, I ski-daddled.

I am now living in room inside a woman's house. My housemate is a very clean, very nice person who works for cancer-research. I rent a room inside her house for $750 a month including utilities. This is pretty good for LA.

I am far more central to LA now than I was before, though I do miss the smell of flowers. Sometimes when I'm working I can smell the ocean, but it's more of a weak stench.

Things of the past week:

I saw a white SUV with a pocket of bullet holes in its side non-chalantly left turn in front of me while I was driving to work. ("It's the Fratelli's!!!!")

I met a man who genuinely, "Yes dear'd" his wife. "Honey, did you ----?" And he, in a monotone, slightly nasal, and attempting to be patient tone, responded, "Yes, dear." And then he made a face at me that clearly said, "She's nuts, but what can I do, I married her." And then the wife, once she's finished doting over her 30-year-old daughter, faces me and makes the face. The, smile and squinch your eyes closed for a moment as if to say, "I know you probably think I'm a little silly, and I am slightly embarrassed about it, but I do it out of love, and for the most part I'm oblivious," face. They were cute.

In other news, my work days have been sprinkled with flirtation. 

A woman told I have a, "Shapely body for a, what's your name?"

"Rebecca."

"A shapely-body for a Rebecca! Hoo-wee!" She wore all black and lots of sequins, and her voice had a natural gravel to it, and she knew how to shake it.

Her friend clarified, "For a white girl. I tell it like it is. You shapely for a white girl!"

Then, before they left, the first woman kind of patted me on the side of my hip, the top most part of my thigh and said, "You are solid!"

Later that night, a man told informed me, excuse the language,
"You have sexy-ass lips! I'm sorry, to just say it like that, but-"

And I laughed, of course, and turned to help his aunt finish her recording. He later told me his name was "DaMon" with the emphasis over the "mawn," and asked for my number. When I told him no, he asked, "Why you do me like that, girl?"