Home. It is a word that brings to mind any number of cliches and famous phrases – take your pick: You can never go home. Home is where the heart is. Home is where you hang your hat. There is no place like home. Home sweet home…The list goes on and on and on. Well, for the first time in over a year I went there. Home. I guess. We expat’s here in Prague have a tough time reconciling where “Home” really is. I mean, I live here so that is HOME. But, I am FROM there – so that might be home. Whatever. The point is I left Prague to go to America for my birthday and here is what happened.

First stop London. I spent a day and a half with Byron in London before jetting off to California. We saw a The History Boys, and The Nutcracker Both were amazing. We went to a few museums and cruised around jolly old London town. I was fortunate enough to get to stay in Notting Hill in a five story Town House…for free. It’s nice to have friends. I even got the chance to dine on some of London’s finest cuisine. Please take note of the peas. Yes. The peas. The peas that are on a plate with an omelet and french fries. PEAS.

I arrived in California after a film filled 10 hour flight from London. It was about 75 degrees and the sun was out. I had kind of forgotten what that looked and felt like. It was weird to be back. All the signs were in English and I didn’t have to speak in monosyllabic phrases in order to get my point across. I went through total reverse culture shock. What was really strange was how time seemed to have stood still while I was away. It looked to me as if nothing had changed. Maybe it hadn’t.

The first thing on my agenda was to get some good Mexican food cooked by real Mexican people. Europe is bitchen and all, but they don’t know anything about cooking south of the border. 

Then I got strep throat, and I spent some quiet afternoons with my old friend Oprah or chilling at the movie theater and Target. I lunched with Jenn and the baby, went to Vroman’s and all and all, found stuff to do. It was nice.

The King family and my mom and I went to the second happiest place on earth. That’s right my dears, we went to Disneyland. And we went full throttle. If you know me at all you know I am a Disney fanatic. I have seen (and at one point owned) almost every Disney cartoon. And I have no kids. I know all the cool secret shit to do at Disneyland, you know the crazy stuff that the designers of the rides throw in for fun. Like on the Jungle Cruise…at the end of the ride if you listen really close, you can hear one of the head hunters yell “Disco Sucks”. There is a small basketball court on top of the Matterhorn. Oh yeah. I know stuff. I know all of the hidden Mickey’s. But what had eludid me for years was the mysterious Club 33. A secret club with in Disneyland that has a select amount of members. It eluded me until now.

Now, the name “Club 33” is called that because…? Well that is up for debate. They had to give an address if they wanted to sell liquor so since Club 33 was the only establishment within the park to sell wine and spirits, an address was required. 33 Rue Royale Street (commonly listed as 33 Royal Street ) was thusly established. BOOOORING. There is also talk that only 33 investors remained after Walt died. Others say it was Walt’s enlightened philosophy. (You know all the hubbub about the number 33 right?) I don’t know which is true. I just know the only picture I took in there was of the toilet.

It was nice and very American. There was more food than even the most hungry of tourists could stuff in their faces. The wait staff was pleasant, and the restrooms were very clean, as you can see.

After that we did the park. We rode everything and had much fun. Except the Nemo ride. Sorry Taylor, but that ride sucks. Remember the super fun submarine ride kids? Well, it’s back with some Nemo stuff thrown in. Yep, FANCY!

My good old LA pals Jenn and Angela had the kind idea to throw a little shin-dig so that I could see all my homies at once. Angela and Aaron opened up their home to my rag tag group of friends and a lovely time was had by all. I talked about Prague, my boyfriend, my travels and well…me. That was tough. I really wanted to know about everyone else! I hadn’t seen some of them for a year or so. Anyway, it was cool. I should just thank the number 33 that I have people interested in my tales.

We then made a sojourn to the local white trash bar 100 to 1 and watched bar fights while singing karaoke. That was pretty bitchen to. Sorry, but I didn’t take a picture of the toilet.

All in all it was a nice trip. I got to spend some time with my mom, visit my brother’s eatery and see my friends. Who could ask for more? I realized that my little life has gone in a different direction than my friends and that’s ok. I feel more grounded traveling and meeting new people than I ever did working for some bullshit American Company. I am living life on my own terms and I don’t really answer to anyone. That’s nice. That’s me. Jane Austen said, “If adventures will not befall a young lady in her own village, she must seek them abroad.” Amen Jane. When I boarded the plane that would take me back to Prague I was ready. I felt ready to go home.


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