met a girl at the Cheetah who lived above the Country Canyon Store, smack-dab in the heart of Laurel Canyon, and we became instant friends. I would sit and gaze out her huge picture window that overlooked the roof of the store and Kirkwood Avenue (where you turned to go up to Chris Hillman’s house), contemplate my future, and daydream about being someone’s rock and roll wife. Sandy worked at some straight job, so I would spend the night and wake up around noon to a quiet, empty house and pretend I lived there with Donovan (if I was in a mellow mood) or Jim Morrison (if I was feeling brilliant
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