Someone once quipped: "Everyone talks about the weather but no one ever does anything about it." It's supposed to rain most of this week. Las Vegas is so dry that these brief respites brighten my otherwise pallid demeanor. I grow homesick for January in Santa Cruz, where it rains almost every day for an entire month. I didn’t feel soaked or miserable or cold; I felt a part of nature and the world. Here I feel more like a toy train, riding on top of an artificial track at the whim of some social misfit.