My corporate housing days are coming to a close. I have to be out by 8/7, which is crap if you ask me. They say that's 60 days, but I swear I moved in on 6/11, so I should get to stay through 8/11 and not have to move out on a Wednesday.

I called the corporate housing people and they called WPP and you know what? They said no problem. They'll give me till 8/12, so that's good. Meantime, I signed a lease on a new apartment in Playa del Rey. If my Spanish doesn't fail me, that means Sunny Beach? Beach of the Sun? Which would make sense given that I am a 2-minute walk to the Pacific Ocean, God Bless America!

Here're my new digs:



That's the back of the complex. I'm in one of the back apartments...by the pool.

Here's that:





If you turn your head to the right when you first enter the pool area, you'll see this:



And if you feel an immediate need to sit for some reason, you can go here:


In the pictures it looks pretty suburban. I hope I can stomach it. It's just another year of "temporary" living in my book.....Definately not home.

I delegated finding me a new place to David, who made things happen in the last possible second. He knows me better than anyone. I like to gripe about it first, but I'm most certainly grateful for his help.

I drove him to the airport on Monday where he would be flying off in first class for his next secret big mission. When we said our quick goodbyes, there was a split second of truly connecting between us -- we were both caught off guard and -- I'm talking a sliver of split second -- we actually saw each other. I wonder if he remembers. I loved it more than anything.