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I am still recovering from an awesomely exhausting weekend with Jess in Los Angeles, where we wandered around downtown and eventually spent most of an afternoon camped out at Artisan House, drinking literary-named cocktails and talking to the bartender about bookstores, drank more cocktails while straining to see the Hollywood sign through the haze from the rooftop bar at the stylish but surprisingly underwhelming Hotel Wilshire, had dinner at Bar Marmont (my favorite place in LA) and drinks at the Sunset Marquis and went to a birthday party for someone we don’t know at El Charrito in Silver Lake, strolled along Melrose getting sunburned, and lounged on a picnic blanket at Hollywood Forever Cemetery watching Hitchcock’s Strangers on a Train, which I had never seen before and found creatively inspiring and exciting. Plus Mark Haskell Smith took me to Cornerstone Research Collective, where I picked up three of the best strains I have ever sampled, by far, and to a delicious lunch at CaCao Mexicatessen.

I had a great time visiting with Jess and LA friends and meeting cool, interesting new people with cool, interesting jobs. But, as an introvert who rarely drinks, I came home feeling extremely depleted, not to mention hoarse from so many intense conversations in noisy bars.