Hello All! We apologize to our frequent readers for leaving you hanging for so long. Many have wondered what happened once we crossed the border, how life is treating us having returned from our trip, and (the million dollar question) – how much longer will the blog go on? We will answer all these questions in the following blogs, and never fear, the blog will go on! (for a little longer)…

We are aiming to detail our travels through the US all the way from LA to South Carolina, up to Cape Cod in Massachusetts and back home to NYC. Blog worthy adventures did follow us, even once back in the good ol’ US of A. Beth and I are working on a master Top 5 list in all sorts of travel categories to tie up our adventures, including our top 5 best meals, top 5 worst bathroom experiences, top 5 cities, and top 5 bloggers for all you avid comment-leavers. We are trying to nail down the top 5 best quotes, but that has proven to be exceedingly difficult. Stay tuned…

And now for the LA adventure…

As you can see from the above picture, Katie delivered us back safe and sound to Pasadena, Lauren’s hometown, and we reunited with Lauren’s family. And more of Lauren’s family. And friends of the Barker family. And so on and so forth. It was an action packed, 5-day whirlwind.

After we dropped off our bags (finally!!!) at my Uncle Ross’s house, we headed over to a BBQ welcome back dinner that was so graciously hosted by Chuck, a good family friend who went to grade school with my father. We were greeted by a cheese plate, guacamole, and most importantly, margaritas. Beth did her best to refuse, having had her fill of Tequila the previous evening in Tijuana, but she quickly learned there was no saying no to Chuck.

Not long after, Uncle Larry arrived with his boyfriend, Ari. Uncle Larry worked with my dad for many years in his law firm and has been known to me as “Uncle Larry” since I was probably 3 feet tall. A neighbor dropped by, along with an old friend of my mother’s and the BBQ kicked into high-gear, particularly after Chuck came around with a big pitcher of freshly made margaritas topping off everyone’s glass and asking, “Ok, is everybody lit?!?”

After devouring the hors d’voures, we moved into the kitchen to fill our plates with delicious BBQ salmon, veggies, and salads. Beth and I continued to marvel at the fact that we were home, in the US, where we could flush toilet paper and drink the tap water. But when we were sitting down to a candle-lit salmon dinner outside, complete with linen napkins, plate warmers, and a choice of red or white, we looked at each other and laughed. It was great to be home.

We talked and laughed and drank, and in the end, decided we had to do this again. Uncle Larry invited us all over to his place for a BBQ later on in the week so we could continue the fun. After filling ourselves with desert, we headed off to Uncle Ross’s.

When we arrived, we headed straight for the kitchen for a delectable treat: ice water. We sat down in the living room with Uncle Ross and Aunt Linda and chatted for a few hours. They were leaving the following morning on a two-week trip, but they stayed up with us until 1am chatting about our adventures. It was a nice first night home, since our last night in Pasadena the previous September had been spent in much the same way - sitting with them until late into the night, but this time getting good travel tips and going over Beth’s law school applications with my Uncle (a genius word-smither), and my aunt (a lawyer).

After my cousin Derek showed us a few clips from his new website, we finally turned in and crashed within seconds of hitting the pillow.

The following morning, my mother came over to visit. Uncle Ross took me through a big tour of the house and the yard, since I would be house sitting and taking care of the watering while I was there. He mentioned that there were a bunch of flowers I could plant if I felt so inclined. I was thrilled. I couldn’t think of a more calming or appropriate project – putting down roots.

After a few hours, they piled into the car to leave for their 2-week trip up the coast, and we took off to go swimming at a neighbor’s house. On the way, I stopped at an old favorite, Lucky Boy, to grab some chili cheese fries. Smothered with chili, and dripping with cheese, these fries are a classic. Beth and Katie both agreed that they were disgusting – a heart attack in a box – but they couldn’t stop eating them.

We took a dip in our neighbor’s pool, slowly digesting our fries, and then went back to my Uncle’s to change and get ready for the next food fest – a BBQ at my cousin’s house in Agoura Hills. While Beth had already met and spent a good amount of time with my mother’s side of the family, the “Italian side,” Katie had never met them, and was looking forward to finally having the chance.

We arrived, hugged our hellos, and immediately dove into some delicious sangria and a bean dip that my cousin Diana had made. We took a tour of the backyard, which now included a small vineyard that had been set up since the last time I had been there. We tasted some of the grapes that had recently been harvested for a white wine.

We chatted with my cousin Suzanne, an ER doctor, and became increasingly concerned that we had ameoba’s growing in our stomachs after her horror stories and warnings. She said we needed 3 different stool tests on 3 different days, just to make sure. Sometimes, the cilia from the ameoba’s didn’t break off and show up in the poop, so you had to try 3 times to be extra sure. We promised to get tested as soon as we could, and Beth named her amoeba Ernesto (or Ernie for short).

While we were eating our ribs, Katie had to leave to catch her flight back to Sacramento. We sadly said goodbye, but felt uplifted that we’d all see each other again soon when we headed back to Wisconsin, Katie and my alma mater, for the homecoming game in October.

After eating cake for one of my cousin’s upcoming birthdays, and getting serenaded by my cousin Diana’s piano playing and her boyfriend’s son’s singing, we drove home and hit the hay.

The next day, we got up and Beth went running while I began the planting process. I hadn’t planted anything since I was little, and was excited to start. I laid out all the flowers and started digging - right after I ate a fresh tomato breakfast that I harvesting all from the plants. Beth came back and relaxed in front of the million channels of cable.

Beth and I were still basking in the glory of coming home –sleeping in a house, seeing friends and family, the freedom of driving a car… We were expecting a difficult return, since everyone had warned us about the depression that follows after having been on a trip like ours. But so far, so good. We kept counting our lucky stars that we had made it back safely, and relieved that we were planting and watching TV instead of plotting our next city and buying the next bus ticket.

My mother treated Beth, my sister, and me to lunch down the street at a sandwich place called Julianne’s, a San Marino favorite. We then changed and headed out to Covina to meet up with Tiff “Anon” Gross (See Into the Great Western Hemishphere and Discovering Cheese, Tango, and Espanol) and my friend Karen. We were taking a much-anticipated trip to Raging Waters, an enormous water park that had half price tickets after 4pm. Raging Waters is one of my favorite things about Southern California.

We caught up while we waited in line and rode almost every slide we could, including Drop-Out, a 7-story straight drop. As their website says: “Dropout is a thrilling, seven-story drop/slide, and is one of the tallest vertical drops in the country. It hurls riders down in just four seconds, at speeds reaching nearly 40 miles an hour.” Beth was terrified, but we managed to convince her to do it. (Beth: I just kept telling myself, it’ll be over in four seconds, it will be over in four seconds…”) We finished the day by going on my favorite ride, the Speed Slides, 6 times. At 7pm, it’s chilly so you’ve got the place to yourself. The line for the Speed Slides usually takes 45 minutes to get through, but we rode it 6 times in 20 minutes.

That night, we headed back to Covina to Tiff’s seemingly empty house. Her mother was supposed to be there, but, her brother had said when Tiff called, she had gone out for a walk. After waiting for a while, Tiff grew nervous, and we began driving around the neighborhood looking for her. We did several loops, and then Tiff started calling her brothers again. She decided to snoop around the house, and ended up scaring her mother half to death when she banged on the bathroom window. She had been bathing her two young nieces.

Karen, Beth, and I took off for Pasadena and headed to the Hamburger Hamlet, an old staple. My mom joined us and Beth finally had the famous potato skins I had raved to her about.

The next day we met Tiff with my mom and sister at the Cheesecake factory for lunch. Another perk of coming home had been our ability to speak English and the unbelievable customer service we’d get anywhere we’d go. You don’t really find customer service like American customer service anywhere else. But the cheesecake factory was an exception to our good service streak.

We had been craving salads, since we hadn’t been able to eat fresh veggies since Buenos Aires, and I was looking forward to Cheesecake’s famous avocado egg roles. We ordered them, and repeated the order again as our waiter was leaving for added emphasis. Our salads came, but no appetizer. He said he’d forgotten to put it in, and we said we’d still want them. Ten minutes later, we asked again, and he said, “oh, I thought you didn’t want them, afterall.” So much for that American gold standard.

Not long after lunch, we got ready to go over to Uncle Larry and Ari’s for BBQ Round II. We met their new dog, Neko, an Egyptian Pharaoh Hound, one of the oldest breeds in the world. He was a very friendly and happy dog, who was a bit of a handful. Uncle Larry called him Baby Demon Spawn.

Chuck arrived just as Larry was pouring pomegranate martinis, and we all headed out to his backyard. It was a beautiful yard with shaded walkways, a brick patio, and a koi pond. All his plants are native to Southern California, and he was recently featured in the paper for his eco-friendly efforts.

We had three delicious, Armenian appetizer dips that Ari had made. Some of the ingredients were straight from Lebenon - his mother had made, packaged, and shipped from home. Over chicken shish-kebabs, I got to hear stories about my dad and his old law firm, a real treat for me. We finished with cheesecake and a choice of rose petal or cherry jam for topping. The cherry preserve was made from cherries only found in Lebenon.

After dinner, we all piled into the bedroom to watch Ari’s latest fashion show. We heard stories about how long it took to prepare for the show and how successful it was while we watched the models come down the runway in a range of flowing gowns. We walked across the street to his studio to see his beautiful creations in person. Beth even got to try on one of his hats.

On our last day, we had lunch scheduled with an old friend of the family, Matti. She lived out in LA, so on the way to her house, my mother took us on a long tour of the area, including my parent’s first house in Bel-Air where I was born. They had bought it for cheap in the early 70’s, and boy, had the “neighborhood” changed.

Beth had heard a lot about our friend, Matti, an upbeat, hilarious New Yorker turned Californian who always had us in stitches. Within minutes of meeting her, Beth said, “wow.” She was everything Beth had expected from our stories.

Mattie treated us to a delicious lunch at an upscale chain called Houston’s. Our waitress was a very bubbly blond who seemed overly enthusiastic about her job. Every time she came to the table, she came with a huge smile and a booming voice, as though she was auditioning for a part. We took a picture of the group, and had her join us for the shot, since she was such a memorable character.

We raced back to Pasadena where I finally finished gardening and Beth and I ran around cleaning up and throwing out perishable items. We showered and changed and raced off to meet our old family friends, the McIntoshes for drinks at the Crocodile Café. Susie had been a regular reader of our blog, and had started leaving comments in the last month. She asked us questions about out travels, referencing specific stories and cities. Beth and I were amazed by her breadth of knowledge and incredible memory. She seemed to remember more than we did.

I hadn’t seen her husband Bruce for many years, and I hadn’t seen college-bound Scot since he was waist-high. My sister Kerry had gone to school with Ashley at BU, so I had seen her more recently, but it was fun to catch up with the whole family.

After dinner, Beth and I took off to meet up with two of my high school friends, Dana and Hannah. Dana had recently gotten married to a boy we had gone to grade school with, and I got to hear all about married life and ogle at her gorgeous ring. The three of us talked at length about news we had heard about our high school class, and Dana and I even discussed old grade school friends. Poor Beth couldn’t contribute much to the conversation, but said she was “used to it.”

Dana drove us home and we finished packing. Beth wasn’t feeling too well, and had to rest while I finished cleaning up the house. All that food had caught up with us. I always had trouble coming home in the past after being abroad, and I was expecting some tummy trouble. I felt a little unwell, but drank some water and went to bed. We had a 4:30am pickup for the airport shuttle.

When the alarm went off, my stomach was doing summersaults. I got dressed, slowly breathing in and out, trying to remain calm. But it was no use. I had to make a run for the bathroom.

Beth started to come in and then ran away gagging. I had spent many an hour rubbing her back or, oh say, carrying her bag of vomit to the back of the bus to throw it out (see It’s Not All Fun and Games), but her weak stomach couldn’t reciprocate. (Beth: I can’t help it, I have sympathetic gag reflex.) I came out and wondered aloud if I could make the trip to the airport, or if I should reschedule my flight to Atlanta for later on. But the Supershuttle arrived and we decided to make a run for it. Sadly, we had to grab out the old retired sack of vomit bags, just in case.

We made it to the airport without incident, and by the time we got there I was feeling much better. We braced ourselves for the American TSA, but were shocked to hear one of them telling the crowd, “Come on guys, there are more lines, move over there, guys!” Ah, homeland “security.” We boarded our flight, and took off for South Carolina.