One of those weeks. First off, this morning, in 100+ temperatures, I began riding my bike to work an hour earlier than I meant to. How did this happen?

Well, I think it can all be traced back to last night, Amanda wanted me to put a plant-hook in the ceiling above the television in our bedroom, she recently bought a low hanging plant from Target... or maybe it was the dollar store, now I'm not sure, but it's besides the point. So, I did this around midnight - and the cat must have been counting down the minutes... anxiously waiting for us to turn the lights off and climb into bed.

At some point in the middle of the night, the cat, who has been recently been renamed 'choco-love', began jumping off the tv, into the air, attempting to paw one of the plant-stems hanging down from the basket.

Now keep in mind there is only about a two and a half foot gap between the top of the tv and the lowest part of the plant... the cat must have been inches away from his target when fully upright. So, he made the attempt, leaping into the air at the unsuspecting plant - and then, most likely, completely missing the television on the way back down - because he surely would have knocked off either the potted plant, the candle, or the alarm clock - but he became trapped behind the tv and our entertainment stand, which is pushed at a forty-five degree angle into the corner of our bedroom.

He couldn't squeeze out the sides, so he tried to "climb-up" the only thing available... the cord of the alarm clock... pulling the clock off the tv and onto his head.

So - then he just sat there and meowed until Amanda got up and helped pull him out. But we can't usually get the clock out without extending the tripod legs and using it as a "hook" to fish out the cord. It's complicated. And something she didn't feel like doing at five in the morning.

So when we woke up at 11 o'clock, I thought it was closer to 12, don't ask why, I just did. So after Amanda took off to babysit, I jumped in the shower... managing somehow to only pay attention to the minute hand... I hurried out of the bathroom, got dressed, didn't look at the clock on the tv because it was buried due to the cat's miss-adventures, ran downstairs to unlock my bike and began pedaling to work, which generally takes about 25 minutes. It's dessert-like hot outside. I wasn't really suppose to work today. I'm not excited about going.

Half way there, stopped at a red-light on the corner of Hollywood Way and Clark, I pull out my cellphone to check if I'm making goodtime in the heat. That's when I do a double take... the clock reads 12:42... I only have ten minutes left until I'll coast into the parking lot, and I don't have to be there until two. So I decided to just get off my bike and walk it across the street to a shady spot under a large tree - and called Amanda to report how retarded I was. Damn you, choco-love, damn you.

Enough about the negative, lets look at the bright side. Yesterday I spent the afternoon hanging out with Justin, we decided to drive out to visit Jack Lemmon's gravestone. Jack Lemmon happens to be Justin's all-time favorite actor... and although he always wanted to, he never got an opportunity to see Lemmon in person before he passed away. So this was the next best thing. Aside from stop-and-go traffic on the 110 and getting turned around downtown 'Westwood', the road-trip went very well. We showed up just minutes after sunset... and found Lemmon's grave in the back... it's hands down the most beautiful cemetery I've ever seen. Not spooky at night on any level what-so-ever.



On the way out we noticed Walter Matthau, Marilyn Monroe, Rodney Dangerfield, the young-blond-girl from poltergeist...