I could use me some of The Smiths right about now. I don't know what I was thinking when I moved out here without the essentials. In an obnoxiously, mercilessly sunny Los Angeles, it's good to be able to evoke a cool, grey, rainy London.

Once, when I was around 17 or so, I had to go on a two hour drive with my parents to visit some relative. Being 17 and unwilling to talk to my parents, I sat in the back seat with a walkman and sang aloud, not quietly, to 'Louder Than Bombs' the whole drive through. At one point, my dad looked back over his shoulder and seemed to be smiling and nodding at me.

"Cool," I thought. "Dad is digging The Smiths."

In retrospect, it was probably a smile that wasn't saying "Well sung, lad," but more likely "We are all going to be happier when I stop you from singing by driving into some oncoming traffic."

Those poor, poor people.

Moving on:

I met a girl named Tessa yesterday. We decided to go grab some coffee at a local cafe. It was two or so hours of good conversation.

She's cute. Around my age. Skinny little thing, dresses well, shoulder length brown hair, with tons of freckles, which is endearing in a way.

She's from the Midwest, too (Indiana), and left someone special behind to come out here and break her way into the production side of the business. She's Catholic. And church-going, apparently.

We'll see each other again, but the larger question lingers: Will we watch porn together?

Those Catholics are a crapshoot.

Jonny and I went to see 'Secretary' last night. This movie answers humanity's timeless question "Is it hot to watch Maggie Gyllenhall get spanked?" with a resounding "Why, yes. Yes it is."

The amazing part is how funny it was. I was afraid it was going to be a misstep of 'Crash'-like proportions, but playing the domination/submission thing for laughs kept this movie from becoming a victim of its own material.

Later, take out from Tito's Tacos was consumed, along with a gigantic freshly baked Dutch apple crumb pie. And ice cream.

Heroically gargantuan portions of food = Bill.

We topped that off with a bit of Simpsons DVD season two commentary, and some SNL. All in all, a good day.

Now I get to contrast that day with today, the bulk of which I will spend in eastern California, visiting some cousins only one of which I have met before. I met that cousin my second week here, where she took me around to all of Los Angeles' more cheesy tourist attractions, and then out to lunch at Canter's.

The best part of that lunch was when the bill came, and my cousin, this older, well-established in her job, taking the freshly arrived penniless kid from Chicago out for a sandwich woman, looked at the bill and said to me "Your share is ten dollars."

My reply: "Oh."

My relatives: All class.