The entrance of the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels. I appreciated that the angel wasn't of the golden curly hair, rosy cheeked variety.
And I thought my childhood was tough. At least my parents didn't literally make me sing for my supper. Or wear stupid hats.
My attempt at an artsy photo of the moon from the window of the plane. Yeah, I'm Ansel Adams.
Now I am off to try on all the pants in my closet to see if any fit. If they don't I will have to wear jeans every day while I am in New York, and I am sure there will be pointing and laughing from the locals. That will probably happen anyway, since I am sure they can smell people from west of the Mississippi.
I will try to blog more before I head off, if I can think of anything that doesn't make Ryan cringe. So, maybe not.
I will try to blog more before I head off, if I can think of anything that doesn't make Ryan cringe. So, maybe not.
1 comments:
My mom lives in NYC and she wears jeans - on casual Friday - so - yeah don't worry - they will all just think you didn't get the memo.
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