Stories on the run

LOS ANGELES — It’s 9 p.m., but it feels so much later. Part of it is that it gets dark earlier in Southern California, due to the fact that it is farther south than Pullman. Part of it also is that I got up at 6:30 a.m. today. Long day.

I just got back from drinks and dinner with the L.A. contingency — my Aunt Patty, Uncle Jeff, godfather Lorne and his wife, Miriam. We went to Ciudad for dinner, a Latin-fusion restaurant right across the street from my hotel. It was delicious — I had Andalucia Strip Steak, which was essentially chunks of steak (medium rare, of course) along with some awesome veggies and potatoes. It was great to see my relatives and catch up.

I forgot to mention in my last post that the SuperShuttle driver was a small, red-haired gentleman with a Russian accent. One thing I have noticed so far here is the cultural diversity. Tons of Asians, Latinos/Chicanos/Hispanics, blacks and Eastern Europeans. It’s a nice change from the overwhelming whiteness of Pullman and Spokane I’ve lived around for years.