Humid with a chance of Urine

Arrival, the beginning of a new and the closing of who knows. 7:15 am, my arrival into the concrete jungle that is Los Angles. Surprisingly LAX was empty. A slow morning. An attempt for hustle and bustle lingered but no such thing would happen in my abrupt experience. Transitioned to the baggage carousel to retrieve the five bags that shall make up my material existence here in my new home. 1... 2... 3... 4... where is the 5th? Another creaky metal lap after another. Where is the 5th? Shortly we discovered the Alaska/Horizon Baggage retrieval counter as the first lead to find my 5th. I feel as If I lucked out, upon approachment to the desk of travel frustration, one of the two attendants departed to lead a man I recognized from the cramped seats in front of my own on a mere second journey of bag enlightenment. I quietly fallowed suit to the cerebral celebration of my 5th. Accomplishment of the finest. A quiet thank you and it was time to find the shuttle to 3rd and Grand Avenue, my new residency. The van was spacious but the air felt the same as LAX, warm and draining. I continued to nod off repeatedly. Awakening only to the sound of Armenian radio chatter and the bickering of a mother and her daughters whom shared the 45 minute commute. From there still feels like a blur. I shared the plane ride, van ride, and elevator ride with my father. Three things that represent only the beginning of a sharing relationship. We exchanged few words and he departed to work, I departed to bed. I collapsed on the large king, sleep took over immediately. A lite dose of REM to be rudely awakened to the feeling of sweating the bed. GOD. Has detox already begun. Besides the soaked human print on the bed it was now noon. Half of my first day in my new home spent in a delirious state of apnea. I shredded my clothes to my boxers to attempt to cool/dry off. Knock knock knock... knock knock knock... Who the hell could this be? A city of 9,948,081 million people and some one is attempting to verbally exchange with me? Frantically I throw on my shorts and post up on the Spy hole on the large pine door. Caryl? What a fool I am out of 9,948,081 million people I forget that one of the two people I do know down here might be curious to check in on me. I let her knock one more time still spying through the fish bowl of Sauron. I returned a knock to her and privately enjoyed the smile that overwhelmed me to see the best friend I seldom see share a smile of her own knowing her brother has arrived. The rest of the day shall be processed and posted.