Category: USA

  • DAY 1: Burgers and asphalt

    America, here I come. I’m about to pummel across your highways and deserted roads. I’m going to count every grain of amber waves. And devour your spacious skies. With Scionito, my trusted Toyota Scion Xa, I will bust through your fruited plains and scale your purple majesties of mountains. I want to see all that you are. And fall in love with you again. You are my country. And we should enjoy each other. So, I will tread lightly through your variety of states. From Los Angeles to Chicago in seven days. Alone again. Free. Just me, the highway and Julieta Venegas (Not really her. Just her songs.). Haven’t driven in 8 months, but I’m ready to put my pedal to some floor mat.


    DAY 1:
    9am Finally get out of bed after four snoozes.

    10am Wash down mixed feelings of going home with a cappuccino and bagel (does not live up to recent French croissants).

    10:45am Write down directions from LA to Chicago on one tiny post-it.

    11:30am Pick a $60 parking ticket off my car window. Curse Los Angeles.

    11:55am Check blind spots as Catalina holds up her digits around the car. See them despite the wide load I’ve stuffed in the back.

    12pm Hit the 10E like lightning.

    1pm Famished after the hour drive. Stop for lunch.


    1:15pm Devour two In-n-Out cheeseburgers without meat. And a coke. Last Coke of my life. Swear. Man, this is a good lunch. I love big straws. Lordy, I love this meal.

    2:45pm Stomach is pissed. Fuck! I hate In-n-Out.

    3:00pm Thirty-eight miles to Palm Springs!

    3:38pm Stop to pee. LOVE not having to ask someone else to stop for a pee break. Wonder if I will ever be able to be in anyone’s company again or if I have just spent the year training myself to be alone forever.

    5:03pm Pee again!

    6:34pm Pee again. Just because I can.

    6:36pm Starting to think the cacti are waving at me. Wave back.


    9pm Use a coupon at the Holiday Inn in Casa Grande, AZ. Oh Yeah. Coupons! Can sense my mom smiling in her sleep all the way in Chicago. She can feel coupon usage. Especially at Kohl’s.

    9:15pm Compare Holiday Inn for $59 to $6 room in India. Not thaaaat much different. Everything just looks a little fresher, whiter, cleaner. The beds are more jump-worthy. Not 53 more dollars worthy.

    12:00am Fall asleep enjoying my journey. Remind myself to think of every day as a journey. If I don’t, it will all be over soon.

  • Let’s try it again, America


    Why hello, USA.
    It’s so comforting to set eyes on you again after this long time apart. I admit I was fed up with your normalcy and celebrity-obsession when I left (I mean, just the fact that Heidi & Spencer are famous pissed me off). But now my fresh eyes see so differently. You’re like an ex boyfriend I haven’t seen in a while, and as the butterflies fill me up, I remember only the good; Heidi & Spencer who?

    My dear, lovely ex-country, I find so much comfort in our familiarity. No guessing. I don’t have to wonder if I’m saying something correctly or accidentally insulting you. To be where I came from makes me feel cozy wherever I stand. I love that I can sit on a bench and be invisible to everyone around me. I don’t look like a tourist here even though I feel like one. I’m home. But the comfort of familiarity is always friends with the comfort of predictability. And THAT sends me leaping into a fit of non-commitment. Yes, USA, you are my ex. This is all too familiar. And, since I’ve never been able to mend my ways with any ex, I might have to leave you again.

    But not just yet. For now I will use you for all your relief and luxury before I ditch you again for some other, more exotic country. For now I will take this time to enjoy all those things I didn’t realize I was missing. Things I’d forgotten. Things I never really noticed before but are blinding me now. These, USA, are your idiosyncrasies:

    Supermarket Sticks – USA! What is with the obsession to get that stick between your groceries and mine? The cashier isn’t going to make our grapes mingle. But even if she does, it’s going to be okay. You don’t have to glare at me because I didn’t put the stick behind my soy milk.


    Inside temperature. It’s a beautiful day. The breeze is swinging the leaves, and you can still sit comfortably under a tree in just a tank top. Yet, when you walk inside, nipples cringe and people build snowmen in the corner. In supermarkets, office buildings, libraries, it’s below 40. What gives, America? I haven’t been cold in 9 months and now I can’t even buy a few bananas without getting frostbite.

    Diversity. Yes, I heard that Republicans have become racists since I’ve been gone. But man, America, we are lucky. I teared up the other day as I drank from a water fountain next to a black man. He told me I was a crazy white woman. But I couldn’t stop. So many other countries are faaaar behind us when it comes to accepting other people. I’ve missed diversity since Australia. I feel so free to be riding an LA bus with a rainbow of skin colors. Yes, America! This is what you’re all about.

    Dollars. What is this green shit? It’s so boring, so monochromatic. Who designed this? Every other country gets pink or blue or yellow money adorned with handsome faces of recent rulers. We don’t even understand our money with its pyramids and random floating eyeballs. And all the guys on dollars are wearing wigs. Lame.

    Unknown substances. I innocently made an oatmeal at Cata’s house and spit it out onto her carpet. That taste… Fake sugar. Diet stuff. Not found in Asia. I think the chemical companies probably said, “Hey Asians, want to ingest these gross synthetic powders instead of sugar so your bodies will look skinnier ?” And the Asians kicked those chemical company people in the mouths. This stuff is nasty.

    The astounding variety of capitalism. Do we really need to choose between 20 different toothpaste brands? I mean, really? It makes life so hard. Do I want the whitening with fluoride or do I want the whitening with crystals or will the whitening take off my enamel so I’ll stick to just breath-freshening or maybe that will hurt the environment so I’m going with a natural baking soda paste. Geez. It’s just toothpaste. In Laos, it was either Nivea face cream or Nivea face cream. And Laotians are surviving! With lovely faces, I might add.

    Wow… They’re everywhere. “If you’ve ben injured in an accident, CALL NOW!” Haven’t seen a lawyer ad in a while. And now they’re inescapable. How I’ve missed you, Larry H. Parker.


    Technology. It’s sort of gross. On my NY layover, I could tell I was in an American airport strictly due to the head positioning of the fellow layover-ers. I would say that 80 percent of people were texting or typing on some device. And the others were talking to people on the other end. I think we should all just ta– hang on, getting a call…

    Restaurant service. My first trip to an American restaurant was of course to Swingers, an American diner, for some tofu chilaquiles! YES. The food was exceptional, but I thought the waitress was stalking us.
    “No, I don’t need more tea…. Nope, do not need anything else…. Nope, I’m good on the napkins, but thanks lady. Nope… LEAVE US ALONE.”
    If you want the bill in a Vietnamese cafe, you might have to walk back to the bathroom or chicken coop to find someone who remembers what you ordered. Come to think of it…. Most people who don’t speak English know the restaurant word for ‘bill’ and the word for “Bill Clinton.” I wonder if they think Bill Clinton is named after the tab of things you’ve eaten.

    Lawn ornaments. I’m almost positive America can claim this one all on its own. Nobody else could possibly have a fascination with plastic animals in the yard. I have to stay, fake geese are pretty fucking amazing.

  • They are so right.

    I decided to take a solo journey up the west coast of California as a little practice trip– to see how I’d get along traveling alone.
    Not only did I discover that I get along tremendously with myself, I also learned that the US itself is home to many tourism gems, giving me second thoughts about my journey to other countries.

    This bank, for example, really exists. And real people are actually customers of this bank. Some joker got stoned and decided to name his bank Rabobank. And people are accepting it! The simple vowel switcheroo provided comfort for people looking to store their life’s savings. Might as well name a car “Hyt this with Baat” or an apartment complex “Rayped in the Allee.”

    You can watch the gullible customers patronize this bank at the Pismo Beach branch from 9-5 on weekdays and 9-1 on weekends.

    I also stopped at an amazing rest stop on Interstate 5, home to a combo Pizza Hut and Taco Bell. Fortunately, it also sold fried chicken at the cashier next to the lighters. And there was a pay shower just on the other side of the arcade! A one-eyed man tried to pick me up by the Doritos.

    Many of my family members and friends have said, “Laurenne, what are you thinking? I just don’t get why you want to leave the country.” Now I see that they are right. I am nuts to want to see what it’s like in Asia.
    But, I think I may check it out just in case there exists an even better rest stop or bank in Tokyo.

    Here is the tentative itinerary:
    Australia Dec 28 – Jan 31
    Papua New Guinea to Feb 10
    Tokyo to Feb 17
    From Hanoi to Kuala Lumpur by land Feb 18 – April 30
    New Delhi and all around India until June 20
    Then we’ll see what happens.

  • YippppEEEEEEEEE!

    I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t embarrassed to come from the land of the free, which I always saw as the land of the presumptuous and entitled.

    I’ve never had faith in politics or the American people. Perhaps it is because I grew up watching more SNL satires of politicians than actual politicians. Or perhaps it’s due to the fact that, just as I was old enough to know what was going on in the world, the world began to focus more on Clinton’s affairs than on his state of affairs.

    I’m not quite sure at what exact point I grew so jaded and apathetic, but it happened. And it got worse. And after we “re-elected” Bush, I became Canadian. I’d never been to Canada but I had no problem telling people I’d met while abroad that I came from the land of the Maple leaf. I’d rather claim the nationality of a country to which I had never been than admit to my Wonderbread roots.

    But last night changed everything. Everything! Obama makes me happy. And proud. And hopeful. And energized. For the first time in my life, I am excited about the future of my country. Obama is the antithesis of everything I’ve always thought politics to be. And we elected him. 63,493,372 people agreed that America should be different. 63,493,372 people agreed! And banded together. And put the right man in charge. I’ve seen strangers all day sharing looks that say, “We did it. We see eye to eye.”

    My normally cynical eyes were streaming tears during Obama’s speech last night. I cried because I felt relieved. And because I felt hope, not just for America, but for the entire world. And because our country has finally made race inconsequential. And because I am part of something huge. I am no longer the liberal minority voting for a losing candidate. I am part of something ENORMOUS, a clan that believes in the same future for our country.

    Finally, I trust that Americans share my beliefs and my hope for something better. Finally, I believe in my country. Finally, I am proud to be an American. Fuck Canada.