Finally. The day of my old friend Lily's wedding arrived. I jetted off to California as if it were something I did on a regular basis. I tried to play it cool, but I was glued to the window watching the praries, the desert, and the Rockies pass by.
There are some places I've visited that look like a screenplay called for a stereotypical scene in whatever place... Paris, Istanbul, or Edinburgh. California, like other places I've been, was like a movie set of its stereotype.
Palm-lined streets, surfers, tofu everywhere, the gorgeous beaches, yoga shops, juice bars, terra cotta roofing tiles, sunshine, yankees playing football, grosses of nighttime fully-lit but wholly abandoned baseball diamonds, and trains of enormous SUVs.
And the lush plant life made me crazy. There was an olive tree in the backyard, and there were birds of paradise and climbing flowers on walls.
Here are some pictures from California.
Here are my classmates from Mac. I'm the giant one with the impossibly red face, far left, then Jenn, Lily, Hisako, and Nanette.
This is lame, I know, but I was so impressed with my breakfast. It was at a Hawaiian place that had a patio at Huntington Beach. The red nest on which my stir fried veg and tofu torillas rested was, I think, spun beetroot. It was amazing. I've had naughty dreams about it since.