By Meet Karina
We've been slurping lots of soup this Spring while the temperatures hover well below my chilly bones preference of 72 degrees. I hate to complain about 52 degrees, but, honestly. I'm shivering like a kitten in a Steve Martin movie
. This is L.A. not New Hampshire. Where is my sunshine and technicolor blue sky?
Hiding its good humor behind wrinkled duvets of fuzzy gray clouds, that's where.

Hiding its good humor behind wrinkled duvets of fuzzy gray clouds, that's where.