The more I stay in California, the more I miss New York.
But don't get me wrong, it goes visa versa when I back home
We woke up today early to send Mark off at the airport, the day slipped along with hot chocolate, dressing Lucky up as various ethnic stereotypes at the Coffee Bean, hours of 30 Rock, furniture building and furniture moving, stepping on astro turf and barely missing poop, blind Bischons, one feverish nap where my mind was so busy worrying, ending the day with a comic book store, veery veery goood Thai food and stale champagne.
California has pockets of excellent days
Did I mention I watched Frost/Nixon, The Reader and various other Oscar buzz movies in the comfort of our living room while peasants have to watch them now in the theaters?
lucky duck.
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