Firstly, to all you people in New York (all parts of it) who helped make our trip back "home" a success: you rule. You booze it up like no other. Your karaoke version of "If I had a million dollars" is better than the original. You bake the most delicious berry crumble. You are the best person to be stranded in a shop with during a downpour. You are a guitar hero. Your mint julep mix is to die for. You grill a mean piece of tongue. You are one hell of an orator. Thank you for the books and jewelry and recipes. I hope your cat feels better, that your disks stay put, and your bathroom gets fixed. I hope you're able to make it work this time

After an uneventful trip, I am now "home". Last night at 4am AssRay, Chita and I awoke to the sounds of firemen trying to breakdown a steel door and the shouts of neighbors. For the second time in a month, an apartment in the next building was burning. And while many emotions could have been appropriate--fear, anger, annoyance, curiosity, panic--there was one that reigned: comfort. Laying in the best bed in the world (sorry folks, there is no argument here), with AssRay singing "November Rain," still stuck in his head from Sunday night's karaoke extravaganza, and Chita abandoning her post at the foot for a more secure one underneath, I was just so happy to be "home".

I've been asked a lot whether I prefer France or the US, Paris or New York, or if I would rather live somewhere else. I can never give a definitive answer. But I know that as long as I have AssRay, Chita, and our bed, I will be at "home" anywhere.