Driving is a novelty for me anymore, since New York City is a public transpo kind of town. Kristina 
allowed me to escort her around Los Angeles in her trusty Toyota as we scoured most every conceivable neighborhood. We walked miles each day as well, but for major triptychs, it was wheels all the way.She lives in Studio City, which requires navigating the winding mountainous roads of Laurel Canyon, while we also motored into the oh-so-steep roads of the Hollywood Hills. Man, was it a blast
to drive up and down, and around and around, mustering speeds as fast as possible...On Sunday, we dared to take on the infamous Mulholland Drive, off of Laurel Canyon. I can honestly say it scared the living bejesus out of me. We drove about a mile before our mutual ill of ease with heights had us waving the white flag and gently—so gently—returning to the main roads. Horrifying (and no pics of Mulholland, believe me). *
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