There is a French bistrot that I like in Melrose Avenue, between West Hollywood and Beverly Hills. I know, it's French, I know... but there are a few things (not many) that French do decently - cheese and wine as an example. In this case, I love their organic mint lemonade. Plus the little birds that come to look for food (they usually go first to the Italian restaurants nearby and if they can't find anything there as a second best they go for the French).
After the lemonade I walk and visit showrooms in Beverly Hills and sometimes I see myself in the window (sometimes even twice) and then I ask myself: what am I doing here?
Then a sign on the street reminds me that there are dreams to follow and this makes me feel better.
In the evening the Lakers play and win. Eeverybody is delighted by Kobe Briant and everybody in LA is happy to have the catalan Pau Gasol in the team. His arrival gave the team a boost and took it to a new level. Now they will play for the title.
After the game the sun goes down on Santa Monica Boulevard. Tomorrow I will be somewhere else and someone else will look at the sunset from this same window.
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