It’s Saturday and I’m sitting at a desk by a heater and a window in Los Angeles. It’s getting light outside and I can hear people coughing upstairs. I am unpacked. I flew most of the day yesterday. I nearly had three seats together until a woman from row 32 came up and sat in the aisle seat. She was anxious to be in an aisle seat. I felt bitterly toward her for a minute, but she offered me her fashion magazine, and I decided to forgive her. I watched several movies and took lots of photos out the window. I tried a new kind of cheese last night before dinner. It’s spanish and I forget the name, the outside of it is orange, like muenster. There is a lot of orange in the guest room here, it’s a pretty color. Which reminds me of the Charles De Gaulle airport in Paris, which I love. They have big leather recliners for even regular people to lounge around in, and their bathrooms are immaculate. The stall doors are frosted, and the toilet seats are bright, spotless orange.