As the summer ends, I find myself seeking out the heat.  There’s something so familiar and nostalgic about September heat in California.  It’s not humid and sticky like Savannah, or oppressive like Laughlin.  It’s a dry, blazing heat in the afternoon that cools off in the evening.  It’s  beaches and driving with the windows down and midnight bonfires.  It’s Bon Jovi and Tim McGraw and stolen kisses.

Summer is a time for vacations, and I’m reminded of some of the best times with family and friends.  In 2003 (the year I met Marco), my best friend Amy and I took a road trip from LA to Savannah.  We set out in my Ford Taurus with only three known goals: 1. visit Roswell, NM; 2. get to New Orleans in time for our hotel reservation; 3. make it to Savannah to stay with my aunt and uncle.  I recommend a trip…