September 3, 2012

What I did on my summer vacation.

My friend and I ordered dessert the other night. We were celebrating. The waiter placed 6 full-size doughnuts on the table surrounded by sauces and fruits. We are two people. SIX DOUGHNUTS. That’s when I knew: I am back in the United States.

I’m back.

I have spent the last three months in Europe enjoying every moment, drinking every wine, walking every winding street, talking to every stranger.
I learned a lot. I danced a lot. I ate a lot. I said ‘yes’ a lot. I got lost a lot. I smoked a lot. I smiled a lot. I tanned a lot. I thought a lot. I didn’t think a lot. I wrote a lot.

I wrote about my feelings. And my experiences. And the people I met. And I didn’t share those writings with anyone! I decided those writings are for me. They’re not doughnuts! They’re just for me.

I will share what I learned:

I learned that things change.

(My dad lived here in the sixties)

I learned that traveling is always good for a makeover.

(before)

(after)

That cousins are the siblings I never had.


That moms will take risks if you start selling them on the idea days before.


That it’s actually fun to do stuff tourists do.

(like this)

(or this)


That I’m in love with Madrid.

That I’m scared of Spanish butchers.


(Seriously. That chick is scary.)


That there are probably millions of ‘Robertos’ in Spain and Italy alone.


That gazpacho is a treat we should savor more often.


That trying things is really imperative to knowing whether or not you like them.


That free will does exist once you stop caring what other people think.


That everyone should go visit Auschwitz and eat more candy (at the same time or not).


That there’s no better feeling than knowing you’re doing whatever the fuck you want.


That there’s no such thing as ‘tired’ if you’re having fun.


That shoes explode after three months in the heat of a car.


That I will travel alone once a year until I die.



That I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up and I don’t care.



That my new mantra is ‘Fuck it.’



That there’s no place like home:

(Venice Beach, Labor Day 2012, where we found a stuffed tiger and a boombox that played 90s music)

Fuck it.

{ 13 comments }

Emma September 4, 2012 at 2:30 am

So cool. x

Madgew September 4, 2012 at 7:08 am

Welcome home. Glad your adventure was so wonderful. Hope to read all the stories you care to share.

Nathan September 4, 2012 at 10:42 am

I was wondering if that was Emma… Rad. Good for you and congratulations!

James Brown September 4, 2012 at 10:43 am

Welcome back to a whole new world. I’ll be down teaching in LA in a month or so…look forward to seeing that smile in person. James

Rahul September 4, 2012 at 10:46 am

We also had doughnuts for desert this weekend. We are the same, but different, but the same, but different. Etc.

Was that butcher girl in The Exorcist? Oh, sorry. The Exorcist was a film made in the 70s about a girl who was possessed by demons. Pop culture reference.

You remind me of Lisa Simpson.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XdMDWsvuS9s

Brett September 4, 2012 at 10:48 am

love this

Rob September 4, 2012 at 11:01 am

You are now my coolest friend. Yay me.

Simone September 4, 2012 at 12:46 pm

beautiful wisdom.

Flo Vitale Abel September 4, 2012 at 12:53 pm

you rock, woman!! I find myself living vicariously through you! Your “summer Vacation” is/was my life long dream! I can NOT wait to see more pictures and read more!!! <3

BrigidMakiri September 6, 2012 at 9:20 pm

Love it, love you — totally the absolute best to travel is alone and open

Love,

Brigid

Kristelle September 7, 2012 at 11:14 am

can i be you when I grow up?

Adria September 8, 2012 at 1:38 pm

YES! YES YES! AMAZING. So well put.

(and yes, let’s go to the beach again soon)

ibbydibby October 9, 2012 at 8:06 pm

i fucking love you. and i’m glad your trip was amazing. i had mini donuts last week. it’s like we’re hanging out in person somehow. some day. welcome back.

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