{Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Pancakes} I live in this really magical place called Los Angeles, California. It’s a place where you have to pay, like, $2 for parking to go to the mall. Even if you don’t buy anything. It’s a place where people sitting next to you at coffee shops are writing movies on their laptops. And then those movies get made, you see them in the theater, and it’s weird and wild. It’s a place where palm tress aren’t native to the state, yet they fit in perfectly. And it’s a place where you see Janice Dickason at the movie theater, dressed like she’s going to the Met Ball, with a man who’s six inches shorter and looks like he might own the state of California. Very normal. Los Angeles is a place of make believe. So, when it’s the first day of fall and 90 degrees outside, it forces you to pretend it’s brisk out, or else you’ll get mad. Because all anybody wants to do on the first day of fall–myself included–is break out their new boots, scarves, hold hands with the boy they like and jump in a big pile of autumn leaves. Am I right, …

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