I found a Christmas tree-like branch of bougainvillea outside of this apartment building by Union Station while walking to Phillipe's. Its blossoms were Los Angeles smog sunset colored.
Hot pinks and oranges, when translucent, always seem to smell like exhaust to me. I think it's because I always imagine that bougainvillea, with its papery texture, is like a sponge; I always imagine the sky as a sponge too, soaking up all the cars in L.A.'s breath and that's how they get to be the same color.
I held them in front of one to demonstrate but I feel like I also got really into posing as a super miserable twelve or thirteen year old girl. (Fun fact: that dress and those tights were purchased by my mother for me-and trust me, I wore them-nine or ten years ago, when I really was a miserable twelve or thirteen year old girl.)
Also, there was the dumbest car chase on Eyewitness News this evening. Some fool in a tow truck that had gotten into an altercation with the cops, and was driving around Hollywood and Los Feliz not breaking any traffic laws and every once in a while, the pinche chopper would zoom out and show squad cars in triangle formation following said fool at a distance. The best part was when the picture started to datamosh and there were rainbow stripes across the screen and I was cussing under my breath for not bringing my camera. Steve Barraza and I watched it as we drank coffee and all these viejos in Dodger gear were yelling at the lady behind the T.V. over the candy counter to put up the volume. Eventually I got car sick and it wasn't even like I was doing nothing, I was just sitting at this table in the middle of Phillipe's, drinking coffee, watching this really, really slow car chase.