I planted poppies where I park my car.

I've never had much luck growing things from seed, but there is a sunny dry patch of dirt behind my building where I park the car. I need something nice to look at when I go out there, so I decided to till the soil and spread millions of California Poppy seeds earlier this afternoon. But there is so much to be sad about in the US today, I feel a little disrespetful by even suggesting flowers might grow while so many people are suffering. Even though poppies can tolerate the drought of my building's parking lot, I don't know if these seeds stand a chance.

I just returned to Los Angeles from a trip back east today. Because the pizza dough in Los Angeles is so horrible, I ate as much PA and NY pizza as possible, and had quite a few bagels, so that made me happy. I almost went to "The Pizza Capital of the World" called Revello's in Old Forge, but had to settle for Sabatini's which is further down the line (spoken like a true Scrantonian) in Exeter. I was in Pennsylvania for the funeral of my grandfather. Except to meet some friends for lunch at Zen Palate in Midtown Manhattan before my flight home, and to have sex with my very famous TV actor fuck buddy, I pretty much avoided New York. Los Angeles might be my home now.

My summer has been filled with death. That's why I worry about the future of these poppy seeds. Maybe I should have smoked them instead of planting them.