"I'm so happy here... How do I make myself feel this in America?"

I say this to Stella in my happiest of happy places, besides an empty movie theater or under a tree: the subway. 

Selfie-happy after I found
my lost hat last week.
Not so much re: my scarf

Paul A Young hot chocolate #obsession

We get back to London in time for Thai noodle lunch at Churchill Arms. (Thaiordie!) I make one last run into Central London to try and track down my favorite scarf that I lost on Fast & Furious Day. It's gone forever, so I grab a hot chocolate that I'm obsessed with (Paul A Young on Wardour St, don't miss it!) in consolation. Cashmere scarf tragedy notwithstanding, I feel great. Running around a city in the cold snap air charges me like those emergency room heart paddles. It feels like a great crush. I'm really going to miss London. 

Stella and I meet for Indian food at Dishoom in King's Cross. Family style, small plates, we order many, many, many dishes and do ourselves proud. We've elevated cleaning our plates from childhood compulsion to a skilled art. 

We have to say good-bye before she goes to bed because of her early work pick up. We agree my leaving is a stupid idea and hug. I love my best friend. 

Dishoom dinner. All the dishes wouldn't fi

Arriving at the airport early is becoming my thing, apparently. I've been killing so much time in airports lately, I don't even get bored anymore. A lentil and spinach pie, two pints of cider, and a tipsy candy raid of the airport store later, and my flight is ready to board. 

This bag is big enough to cover
both my knees.

My flight is relatively painless. I watch a few movies (ten minutes of American Women before I realize I want to watch it with my mom, 15 minutes of Passengers before I realize life is too short to watch a boring, insulting, misogynistic nightmare, The Girl on the Train, Why Him?, and the first half of Free Fire), misgauge my Ambien sleep window (hence all the movies), and finally drift off. 

I was going to do a list of things I've learned, like I sometimes do after a trip, but I've been pretty thorough in my writing. I did forget to mention the time I used the toilet in Harrod's and was so sweaty I blotted my face with toilet paper. When I exited the stall to wash my hands, my face was covered in a layer of toilet paper and I looked like a mummy. When you quickly try to roll toilet paper off your sticky face, it all ends up in your hair. What I learned: take your time when rolling wet TP off your face. 

Arriving in LA is bittersweet. It's not entirely home, but then when I fly to Austin in a few days that also isn't entirely home. Honestly, the last three weeks in Stella's flat, with my own space and my own schedule has felt like the closest thing to home that I've felt in months. It's no big deal, it's just the way life is playing out right now. 

Sometimes you have to admit, it's a beautiful world

One of the books I read in London was "Go Set a Watchman" by Harper Lee. It was a fascinating book to read right now, both with regard to the concept of home and what's happening in America. Basically, Jean Louise (Scout) is now in her mid 20s and returns home after living in New York to discover the home she understood doesn't exist anymore, not in her family, in her love, or in her town. 

This book takes place pre-Civil Rights, and the nationalism it portrays could be in any news story on any given day in the last year. Like Scout, every concept I had of home, be it personal, the country I thought I knew, my place in my family, has completely changed within the past year. The changes were traumatic because all growth is traumatic; but, if we don’t grow, we die.

Ready to cuddle with this mob

The book and my trip contextualized my state of mind. I logically and reasonably know through articles, therapy, logic, etc. that the last year (years? Decade?? Ugh, ok, all of life...) has been growing pain after growing pain however, I finally found my cathartic understanding through art and travel. In this moment, I’ve never felt more necessary as an artist and more thrilled to be a traveler. And that's nice.

Especially ready to hold this sour puss

I don’t know what comes next. This trip has been my finish line for the last five months, so I’m having a bit of the post-Christmas bummers. In a couple days, I’ll go back to Austin and curl up with our herd of cats and keep growing my voice and finding new experiences. 

Until my next trip... Thai or die! 

"AAAaaaaahhh!!!!!!!"

...is what Stella and I did when we ran into each other at the elevator, seeing one another for the first time in over two months. Lemme back up--
So in my stupor yesterday I never mentioned anything about my flight, and I actually had some things worth mentioning: it was jam-packed, my overhead light didn't work therefore I couldn't read or do the hours of leftover work I still had (have? ahem.) to do , I sat next to a chatty lady (sigh.), we had to maneuver around some thunderstorms which made me very nervous because I watched every single episode of Lost and frankly I wasn't in the mood to work so hard to survive, and TIME STOPPED.
I swear to God. We took off from LA in the pitch black night. I watched a movie (What to Expect While You're Expecting. Stop judging me.). I ate dinner. I dozed off- the little flight status thing read: 12 hrs remaining. I woke up-11 hrs remaining...
I did this between every 15 - 55 min for about 4 hours before I gave up and watched another movie (Snow White & the Huntsman. Kristen Stewart, eh. I don't buy it.) I kept falling asleep and having to rewind so the 2 hour movie took at least 3. Not to be tedious, but my point in chronicling everything is to show that at least 9 hours had passed since we departed LA and in all that time, there was not a single glimmer of light in the sky. NO SUN AT ALL.
Having to face the pitch black sky out my window every time I opened my eyes forever totally messed with my head, like 30 Days of Night. I got restless and agitated which made me more tired, but I was too agitated to sleep. ("Why didn't you take a sleeping pill?!" asked Stella. "Because I'M AN IDIOT," answered Bianca.) I re-wrapped myself in my blanket and tried Sleep Position #67: body shrunken into a tight ball, pillow jammed under the jawbone, scarf and overshirt balled into a pillow against the window. I shoved my head into the pillow and willed myself asleep... no. I opened my eyes and stared into the black on the other side of my window- and I lost my breath.
I hadn't noticed before, but it wasn't pitch black outside. Instead, there were more stars than I had ever seen. My first thought was, "I wonder if we're in outer space." Out of habit, I reached for my iPhone before my mind caught up. I would never be able to see the stars in the photo, only the black hole that had haunted me since take-off would register. I left the phone alone. Instead I stared out into the crowded sky and attempted to burn the picture, and the peace and spaciousness that came with it, in my mind. I had an emotional moment, just me and the stars, and when I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore, they finally slid closed into a deep and dreamy 2 hour sleep. It felt incredible.
The rest of it flew by: another movie (Five Year Engagement. Harmless.), breakfast, and the first act of Fast Five (LOVE.) before I landed and stumbled through my first day. I accomplished my gym/food/nap plan (GFN?), squealed & hugged Stella, and little else.
Today I started my writing routine. I'm in love with it. After, I wandered the area gradually making my way to my friend's offices in Darlinghurst just up the road from Haymarket where Stella lives. I'm in heaven as I walk the streets, Korean BBQ joint after Korean BBQ joint beckon me inside. I think we're officially in Koreatown, but Chinatown is super nearby. Asian markets seem to equal the number of regular grocery markets, there's tons of Japanese, Thai and Chinese food places in between yogurt shops. Basically, I'm always hungry once I leave the apt.
At my friend's office, we walked onto the rooftop porch to take in the sunset view- a horrific caw rang out and seemed to echo over Sydney. "What the hell was that?" I asked my friend. He pointed out a pretty white cockatoo in a tree not to far away. I couldn't believe such a huge sound could come from such a pretty little thing-
Until it opened its wings into an impressive stretch and lurched out another call. Imagine James Earl Jones' voice coming out of Nicole Kidman- it wasn't exactly like that, but it wasn't exactly not like that either. My friend also told me about the fruit bats that fly through town, and now I'm obsessed. Austin has quaint cute little bats at dusk, and Sydney has these massive flying animals that careen through town looking for fruit and nuts. I'm now determined to find one. In the meanwhile, check this out...

I want, I want, I want...

my new writing den = my happy place

I have an old friend named John West!
So I bought his tuna!