a full 24 hours in l.a., and we've accomplished nothing. it looks like typhoon nuri took a detour through our apartment, leaving cat hair, dusty old boxes, library books, and sandy, glorious beach clothes in its wake. i discovered today that this 6-day-pack-up-after-returning-from-nam plan was totally ridiculous as knox and i cannot be trusted to get anything of significance done - we got down to work at 3, only to lie down "for a sec" at 4 and wake up again at 6, when he left to do the laundry and i tackled our closet. my chore was a simple one - make a goodwill pile of my old clothes. this naturally required trying on a whole slew of "potential paris" outfits and vintage pieces that i don't wear but will not throw out because they are vintage (and thus rad!)... it took waaaay too long. knox returned from the laundromat to find me staring out the window and slightly frazzled, dressed only in my bra, a high-waisted gloria vanderbilt jean skirt, and one boot. our room was covered in my clothes (most of which, i've disovered, must go!), but he took it in stride. he just smiled at me (in that "i-love-you-but-you're-nuts" way), hung the laundry out back, then lit the fire for our steaks. how did i land such a man??
so, as day 1 of the packing fun winds to its unsuccessful close and i slip into a food, wine, and jetlag stupor, i leave you with this gem: knox, leaning in from the kitchen (where he is doing the dishes - how did i get so lucky?!?) asks: "would you rather hang out with jack black, ben stiller, or robert downey jr.?" and not missing a beat, i reply, "robert downey jr., not cuz he's hot (though he is) but because he is a loose card."
knox: "wild card? loose cannon? i don't get it, big dan" (he quotes from "oh brother"). what's classic here is that as he corrects my infelicity of expression, he realizes he's failed to rezip his fly from his last potty break. natch.
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