Am in California, alive and not covered in my own puke. All the animals survived their first plane trip and seem to be enjoying our super fancy corporate apartment.
I'm still having trouble accepting the fact that I live in California. Don't get me wrong, I am excited to be here, but it doesn't seem real, like California isn't a place normal people live. Somehow in my mind it's a place that only fabulously wealthy, beautiful people live and everyone else can visit, but not stay. After 10 days in California the pretty police come around and throw your plain ass out into Nevada.