oakhurst drive

sometimes there's really no place like home. and, trust me, my apartment's not that great. but, really, sometimes all you want to do after work is go home and change into your p.j.'s at the embarassing early hour of 7:30pm. and you're really looking forward to watching bad television and using the groceries you bought over the weekend to make your own dinner. maybe it's just me though. maybe that's what happens when you've lived out of an overnight bag for the past 3 and a half years. but i'm not complaining. i love john's house and love hanging out there. what's not to love? it's huge and a mere short walk away from some of my favorite places. but still, sometimes it's nice to head home. read the magazines that have been waiting for me for a week. be surprised by the dvd's of 'parent trap 3' and 'parent trap 4: hawaiian honeymoon'. (note the incredibly intelligent use of the colon in the title of the 4th installment. excellent.) and sometimes, though rarely, it's nice to climb into bed at 9:45pm and fall asleep to the delicious sounds of mark ruffalo in 'you can count on me' on the oxygen network.