After
all that turmoil in my family in '97-98, Lizzie and I packed up our apartment
in San Clemente, and as we drove up the 405, I joked, “You know what people
do when their families fall apart? They run away to Hollywood. So we're going to run away to Hollywood.”
She
went “Yay.” She was eight? Nine?
I wonder if she remembers that.
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