These days in L.A. it is very gray and cold. Freezing spring rain. I am longing for the sun and beach and my bike. I paint my nails sparkling clear peach and they glisten against the sand and handle bars. Laying on the beach squinting up at the sky, cerulean against cerulean, I close my eyes and the clouds stay imprinted in the dark. We have an old-school boom box and listen to old CD’s – ‘90’s style. I wear my tortoise sunglasses and eat skittles and think of you.