The Die Hard 4 poster looks funny here. They’ve superimposed English slogans on it.

The mountains have been replaced by something equally as massive and much more foreboding: here, we call it the “freeway.”

I’ve forgotten how to spell.

“Grand” is not spelled with an “e” at the end when it describes the word “adventure.” “Adventure” is not a feminine word in English. We do not have genders in English. But gosh, the words look naked when I write “grand adventure.”

Southern California is lacking in wide open spaces. And green.

The burrito niche could never be replaced by kebabs.

Our huge juicy strawberries got nuthin’ on the tiny sweet alpine strawberries hiding in the fields.

After nearly suffering from a heart attack at the sight of the “cheese” section in Ralph’s supermarket, I found “made in the usa” camembert in the “artsy” cheese island just behind me. Okay, so it wasn’t spectacular, but all is not lost. This weekend I found Roquefort (I told you, Pierre!) and raw milk comté at Trader Joe’s…. the wine, however, is going to be another issue.

“You mean, his baby’s mama had a baby?”

It’s great to be home.