Roommates

(photo via songbirds)

I spent most of today wandering around IKEA with Eli. We seemed to forget that we were riding the metro home so we kept throwing things into the cart. Wine glasses! Salad utensils! Pillows! A brand new down comforter! A full-length mirror!

Oh yes we did.

We bought all of that (and MORE) and managed not to break/lose anything on the metro. But the walk from IKEA to the metro stop was a slow one, because Eli was sore from this morning's run.

Amateur.

On the metro, we sat across each other to protect our Swedish goods. We spent the entire ride complaining of hunger and catching yawns from one another.

....

I remember thinking during my flight to Madrid, what if we don't get along? What if she's weird? I was so tired and nervous when I arrived at Barajas that rainy afternoon, scanning the faces at the gate, looking for someone -- who exactly, I didn't know. I was wearing my blue coat and a scarf, just like I said I would. A girl stared at me long and hard. I thought it was her, until she looked away. Sorry, wrong stranger.

And then I saw a piece of paper with my name on it and the dark-haired girl holding it looked at me and I just knew. I waved and smiled. So did she.

As brain dead as I was, I noticed how surprised she looked. I asked her why a couple of nights later, when we'd stay up until 2 a.m. sharing our life stories with nothing but the light from a reading lamp to illuminate our faces.

She said she was expecting someone entirely different.

"What do you mean, different?"

"You know, like those girls from LA. Paris Hilton, dog-carrying types."

"Ah."

Transit theory

(photo via Like Neely O'Hara)

I've been up for the past two hours because I couldn't sleep. My alarm just went off which was really surreal. I just stared at it and laughed.

Ever since I arrived in Madrid, I've been keeping a list of all the things I miss about LA. I never thought I'd miss it, but there's a rapidly growing list that proves otherwise.

I miss the clicking of my sister's heels in the hallway, usually followed by a knock at my door. My mother's laugh. My father's furrowed brow that appears only when he's wearing his glasses. Burgers from In 'N' Out. The Sunday LAT. Monday night television. My bed, the same one I've slept in since I was six years old. Wearing only one layer of clothing. DVR-ing "Say Yes to the Dress" and "What Not to Wear." Eating Chinese take-out with Jen on the couch, while watching said shows. Being behind the wheel of my car and driving down the 5 with the windows down, zooming past LA's landscape of palm trees and power lines. KCRW's Morning Becomes Eclectic. I miss that California light, the best light there is. My yellow room filled with books and the creaking of floorboards under my bare feet. I really miss waking up in that room.



Lucas told me the other day his theory about foreigners and traveling. He said that once you live somewhere else, you'll never quite be home again. I asked him to explain this rather grim theory of his. He used me as an example. "When you're here, you're constantly talking about how it is back home. But when you go back home, you'll talk about how life is in Spain. You'll always be in transit."

I wonder if Lucas has seen "Garden State."

Adios, Los Angeles

If you're reading this, I'm probably thousands of feet above LA, en route to Madrid via Toronto. I'll let you know if there is any hand-holding.

See you on the other side of the Atlantic!

p.s. I really hope nothing happens to my luggage because my carry-on suitcase is filled entirely with shoes.


(photo via Like Neely O'Hara)

The hardest part

It's my last night in LA and I'm having trouble saying goodbye. My co-workers saw me off with a potluck on Friday and as much as I told myself to keep it together, I kept doing this whenever someone hugged me or so much as looked in my direction:



It was my first job and it was a great one. I never felt like an employee, but more like a college kid who was adopted by a fun (and at times, wacky) family. I'm going to miss talking with my boss about anything and his coffee mug filled with chocolate. I learned so much from my co-workers and I think it will be hard to find another workplace that is just as creative and nurturing. I was lucky.

....

I've been so busy packing and making sure I don't forget anything that I haven't had time to sit down and breathe. These last days have been a blur.

Nancy and Karol came over last night with a journal (which I'm not allowed to read until I'm in seat 24A) filled with goodbyes and remember whens, or so I was told. (I haven't peeked, you guys!)

Climbing over suitcases, with my hair up in a messy bun and wearing mismatching pajamas, I looked exactly like someone who's moving to another country in less than 48 hours. They didn't care. They just wanted to see me for five minutes.

....

We're finally a complete family again and I'm leaving. Gathered at the dinner table, I scan their faces, with my heart in my throat. I'm afraid of what I'll miss while I'm gone.

We practice Skyping from different rooms and make funny faces. I think, this will make it better. It will be fine.

But then it's time to hang up and I'm not so sure.



(photo via Melecwi)