Myra Lee

2009-02-22 - 7:40 p.m.

Impatiently watching the Oscars in the hopes that Mickey Rourke wins. I'm sure Sean Penn was great, and I did tear up during the Milk screenwriter's speech, but I just really loved The Wrestler. In my youth, I couldn't remember the difference between Mickey Rooney and Mickey Rourke, but now I know the difference.

Peter Gabriel's a prick, right?

As for being an attorney: whoa. What have I done? I'm loving certain parts, but whoa. I'm working harder than I imagined was possible.

We've been perusing houses for sale, and it's exhausting. The leading favorites are:

1. The Compound: Three weird houses on a half acre of property in an unsavory portion of Echo Park. Two of the three houses are Sears catalog mail-order houses. They're sort of like those log cabin pre-fab houses presently advertised on late-night infomercials, but without central air or other modern conveniences. But they're lovely! Historically, the property has been used an artists' commune, and that's sort of the use we have in mind. On a hillside, overlooking a freeway, pine trees everywhere.

2. The Peter Pan House: A seriously quaint, classic house in the Silverlake Hills. Feels like a B&B. Has dark creaky floors and wonky old windows. Big, terraced backyard that seems well-suited to hosting garden parties in a different century. Children who grow up in this house will have no choice but to believe in fairies.


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