I’m in a very sleepy about-to-get-on-an-airplane-post-Vegas haze. I am not looking forward to sitting on an airplane for many, many hours and landing in a frozen tundra when all I have on is a hoodie and yoga pants. (Yes, I am flying in a hoodie and yoga pants. Don’t judge.)…
(…no really. I’m asking. Because I have no idea what happens in Vegas.) I assume that Las Vegas smells like sex and money and desperation and there are lots of Rain Men running about counting cars and all of the cars have naked Senor Chang’s in their trunks and, obviously,…
I am a comparer by nature. I don’t really feel badly about it. It’s sort of like how I have green eyes and chubby thighs…it’s just part of who I am. So, naturally, I am always comparing the differences between living in Atlanta and living in Toronto. Our year in…
