We've done a tiny amount of anything but workk the Standard is an uncomfortably trendy hotel but the view from the roof terrace is cool, especially when they're projecting Tron and Blade Runner onto the side of a tower block, they serve Blue Moon and Racer IPA and the deep fried mozzarella balls are very tasty. Zuccas, on the other hand, looks good but is really disappointing: the eggplant parmesan tasted good but was stone cold in the middle, Chris's calamari looked good but he said it was greasy and my monkfish wasn't cooked all the way through (and call me picky, affogato should be made with plain vanilla ice cream). It was good to catch up everyone, but I'd call it one to avoid. Plus really, three people to turn down the air conditioning?
Out to the airport to pick up a rental and off to Palm Springs (if we're going to write for half the weekend, let's do it somewhere with a view of the mountains). The wonderful James Bond villain headquarters building is covered in scaffolding, which makes it look like a wireframe of itself...
Los Angeles sprawls further than I realised: thanks be for car pool lanes. The mountains slowly creep closer, and there are clusters of billboards promising to deal with the f word (foreclosure). At least we're not trying to get out of LA on a friday evening.
