After a year in LA with no rain, it’s dizzying to be in a place where actual moisture comes down out of the sky. And it’s not bums on rooftops spitting on you.
I’ll admit it – when it first started raining, I went outside and did a Julie Andrews, “Hills are alive with the sound of music” twirl of joy in the rain.
A week and 1/2 later, I’m over it. A little bit. Although if I could stick a good thunderstorm in my carry-on and take it back to LA with me, I certainly would.