This photo is from my May trip to California for Toni's birthday. We're in a Japanese steak house (Toni loves them). Forget the name, tried something other than Kobe this time, a sports bar version of Kobe (we were in the basketball finals after all). Food was good, the usual goofy chef who tosses bits of shrimp in the air for diners to catch in their mouths (not fond of that, plus I'm always thinking that it will go into a pocket, the shirt will end up in the dry cleaning pile at the bottom of the closet, two weeks later there will be this smell . . .). He sets a little volcano on fire to everyone's oohs and ahhhs (like we haven't seen it a hundred times before). The usual but there is something comforting in these predictable little rituals. We had green tea ice cream and took photos – (Ty took this one). Earlier the three of us had our hair done together, and then went in search of flip flops – on sale at Old Navy (the soft plain rubber ones that we like). Bought some stuff but no flip flops – too many, paralyzed by an overdose of choice.