1. FROM THE VALLEY: Take the 134 East to the 5 South. Exit at WOODLAWN. Go through the next 3 lights (careful! bump crossing TIVOLI DRIVE) and turn LEFT at MONTROSE CRESCENT. Ours is 2nd from the end on the right at the top of the hill. Lavender paint (bluish at night), cedar tree: # 4266.

2. FROM DOWNTOWN: North on the 405, take 10 East to 5 North. Exit DOS PASSOS, circle the roundabout thing; RIGHT at MONTROSE CRESCENT. We’re 2nd from the end on the right at the top of the hill. Cedar tree: # 4266.

3. FROM THE YEAR 1618: Go to the top of the tallest hill from which you can’t quite see the ocean. Wait four centuries then for paving equipment and cedar tree. Sorry about the eighties, those neighbors are gone. Dress warm.

4. FROM A DREAM WHERE YOU’RE AN ANT ON A CHESSBOARD: Cling to the rook of spades as it glides madly around the board eschewing conventional rules of play. Fall off because your grandmother’s cat has powerful blasting eye-rays. Dimly realize there is no rook of spades and Pooncie died in 1983. Wake up as our friend Debbi who’s bringing the hummus.

5. FROM PLATO’S CAVE: Come to understand despite the vividness and seeming totality of your experience that there is something outside the cave and that one of it is our house at 4266 Montrose, Silverlake.

6. FROM THE FIERY DEPTHS OF HELL: Make a deal with the devil where you get out for 24 hours if you can beat him at some game but not a classic like chess that he’s had years to practice or a new one that he might be playing right now like Left 4 Dead 2. Try Mario Kart for Nintendo DS Lite. While he’s impotently cursing take Hell’s Portal to 1311 DOS PASSOS, head up hill, look for the cars. You’ve had a rough time, don’t bring a dish.

7. FROM I DON’T KNOW WHERE I AM OR WHAT I’M DOING: It’s hard for you at the moment. You need to take time for yourself and regroup. You’re better off without him, come on you know that. Look at how he treated you on that camping trip. You can do this, Barbara. You’re a good person. Just take one step at a time. Exit at WOODLAWN, follow route 1.

8. FROM GÖDEL’S INCOMPLETENESS THEOREM: Construct a true sentence that says of itself that you are not not-at 4266 MONTROSE CRESCENT, drinks at 7:30.

9. FROM I DIDN’T ASK TO COME TO YOUR MOTHER’S READING: I don’t ask to go to your stupid things either but I go to them. Like what things? Like that fundraiser your dipshit brother had in Santa Monica last summer. “Art Opening,” whatever. Well, hello, you’re unhappy, what a surprise, the universe has once again failed to align itself to Corinne. Why don’t you step back from this self-pitying bullcrap, take a good look at yourself, exit at WOODLAWN, and follow the roundabout to 4266 MONTROSE? Stow the ‘tude; bring an inexpensive red.

10. FROM UNPLUGGING A LOVED ONE: This isn’t Pop. The Pop we loved has already gone. But you know what? He’s still here, in our memories of him. He’s here in the way Mom smiles. He’s here in his wood carvings and his paintings and all those letters he wrote us when we were in college. But he won’t be here at 4266 MONTROSE, following route 2, above, 8:00-ish. Could you possibly bring those flowers?

11. FROM BEVERLY HILLS: Set GPS to 4266 Montrose, Silverlake. Bring that Montrachet again? Open it to breathe any time after TIVOLI DR. Mwa.