It's almost time to head home from the "home" I've had for a month. I've always loved my place in Seattle and as convenient and [mostly] comfortable as this little Midtown pad has been, I love my place in Seattle even more now than I did before. Here, I'm three blocks from Times Square; at home I'm eight blocks from Queen Anne Avenue, which is more my speed. Here, my living room faces 10th Avenue which is so noisy during the day, that if I'm on the phone, I have to take the call in the back bedroom and shut the door; at home my living room faces - well, a driveway, but that makes it quiet, blissfully quiet. This place is a third floor walk-up through a dark and dank hallway (although it's nice enough when you actually enter the apartment); at home I get to my front door either through my own garage or by walking down a flower-lined path from a quiet, tree-lined street. These are observations not complaints - my Midtown pied-à-terrehas been great -- it has been comfortable for guests, the appliances and furniture are new, the fact that there is a washer and dryer is a luxury I didn't expect to find, the shower is hot, and the two HD flatscreen TVs have been perfect, but there's no place like home, and home is Queen Anne.