Thursday, March 24

70 DEGREES AND SUNNY . . .

Highlights and lowlights from five and a half days in Tarzana, California (and yes, it was named for "Tarzan," written by Edgar Rice Burroughs, who lived in the area in the early 1900s) ...

... eating two bags of blue Terra Chips on the flight over to Long Beach. I love JetBlue.

... listening to two teenage girls on the plane giggle at the thought of having Chris Martin of Coldplay as their father: "That would be soooo cool. He's sooooo cute," and thinking to myself, "Ew, why would you ever think your own father was sooooo cute?"

... checking out Ha's sleek new Honda Odyssey minivan, which doesn't quite look like a minivan because it's a dark metallic gunmetal grey and shaped like the lead car of a Japanese bullet train, and has seventeen cupholders (six of which have yet to be discovered by the family).

... adoring nearly-three-year-old Abby, who reminds me so much of myself as a little girl running around with pigtails and big bangs covering my eyes, and yammering nonstop about every important detail of every minute of every day, and shouting loudly at the top of her lungs when no one is listening to her.

... being heavily drooled upon by newly-one-year-old Sonic, who very closely resembles a cute cartoon hedgehog and who eats as ravenously as a wild boar and who graciously and slowly spits out food in which she is no longer interested.

... listening to Dr.Y tell the story about how for ten minutes, he put his nose to the house's gas valve and sniffed heavily, inhaling gas fumes, because Ha didn't believe there was actually gas leaking into the house, then standing up and saying, "I think there is a gas leak because one, I can smell it even if you can't, and two, I have a severe headache right now."

... being instructed by Abby to watch her poo on the potty because she was bored sitting there by herself and wanted someone to have a conversation with.

... admiring the wide-planked wood-paneled ceiling and the curving walls in the living room, the sloping beamed ceiling in the family room, the granite countertops in the kitchen, and the plantation window shutters in the guest bedroom of their new 1950s-style home. It's "The Brady Bunch" all over again.

... driving Dr.Y's itty-bitty ancient Honda Civic (yes, the same vehicle with the leaky oil, the cranky gaskets, the driver's side window that doesn't close unless you push it up with your hand, and the faulty brakes) along Highway 101 into downtown L.A. to have dinner with my relatives, and realizing that every single car on the freeway is taller than the one I'm driving.

... going to Century Sports Club & Day Spa with Ha, getting naked and sweating. Eh, check out the website before you jump to any conclusions ...

... hanging with the family as they purchased a new Audi A4, then hitting Saladang Song for some of the best non-home-cooked Thai I've ever had.

... In-n-Out Burger. 'Nuff said.

... watching the underdog hit, "Napoleon Dynamite", on Saturday, then quoting the movie and imitating its lame-o underdog protagonist every minute of every day for the next four and a half days. GOSH.

... strolling through Descanso Gardens on a balmy Sunday afternoon, admiring the freshly blooming camellias and tulips, and watching Abby's cheesy grins as she squatted amongst the blooms for photo ops.

... debating with Dr.Y, while watching a Discovery Channel documentary on North Korea's nuclear threat, the issue of whether Kim Jong-Il is a nutcase or a rational military and political actor. I still think I'm right: I vote nutcase.

... eating two scoops of Double Rainbow chocolate ice cream every day, even though I don't like chocolate or ice cream. But Double Rainbow is soooo good. I have to find it here on the East Coast and share it with all of you.

... taking a leisurely walk through the neighborhood with the kids, breathing in the warm spring air and anticipating the warm weather and accompanying shenanigans in New York to come.

... planning a longer -- perhaps month-long -- trip in the fall (when I'm most likely going to be out of a job and in denial of that fact) to be punctuated by road trips to see JWu in Oakland, wineries in Napa Valley, the coast in Santa Barbara, the ritsy-titsy in Palm Springs and the zoo in San Diego.

... repeatedly glancing at a seatmate on the return flight -- a 30-ish looking Korean-American man -- who is watching the Cartoon Network for the entire length of the five-hour trip back to the East Coast (lengthened to seven hours by bad weather and the ensuing holding patterns) with his mouth hanging open and giggling intermittently at the antics of Porky Pig. Sigh.

... emerging from the nauseating holding pattern to see my bag be the first one on the conveyor belt (exceedingly good) and feel slushy yet icy snow hit my cheeks (exceedingly bad). Talk about surreal ...

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