the trip (maya guest post)
So it’s been a while since I’ve “posted.”
Don’t you love putting things in quotes? My mom laughed when I first did it, so I started doing it more! But then she warned me that doing something funny too often isn’t really so funny anymore. She also said that sometimes my quotes don’t make any sense.
My mom excels at making anything remotely fun no longer fun.
My mom and I at Haagen-Dazs. She let me eat as much ice cream as I wanted. I had about 12 mini-scoops and felt sick after. Just like she said I would.
Anyway, it’s been a while since I’ve posted because as you may know, we were on “holiday.”
We started out in NYC so we could find a place to live. My mom pretended our opinion mattered but all three of us knew she’d already identified where we were going to live ages ago. And we all knew we were going to live there no matter what. So really, the trip was just a mere formality.
But at least she was in a good mood and took me to Central Park and Dylan’s Candy Bar. So I guess I can’t complain about controlling tendencies.
I was a “Trump” kid for a few nights in NY. It was lots of fun but I was confused why they gave me business cards. And my mom and I were “offended” by the “There is so much to buy” coloring page (Shallow much Mr. Trump?). The kid’s menu looked delicious but my mom says she’s allergic to kid’s menus so there were no chicken fingers for me.
After “we” finalized “our” decision of where to live, we flew to London, which was even more awesome than New York.
This because I got to see my grandparents and they rock. But also, after my mom’s laptop was stolen, she had a few days of free time to do cool things like play Uno
I was far more impressed with Legoland than the very skinny lady, but I guess to each her own, right?
I think this was at the Science Museum. Or maybe Legoland? Everything is such a blur. Maybe because I’m jet-lagged and I’m being forced to go to summer camp?
We’re all back in L.A. now, and my mom is moving at 100 miles an hour again.
She wasted no time putting me in summer camp, which is where I am this entire week, despite being jet-lagged. Some people don’t think it’s unreasonable to put their 8-year-old in camp one day after a trans-Atlantic crossing.
But if nothing else, at least my mom and I will always have “London.”
My dad was being a bit “thrifty” when he said we couldn’t go into the Wax Museum but at least he let me take this very neat picture.
She’s cringing right now. I can feel it.
an understatement
I am an idiot.
I am an idiot because last week I left my laptop somewhere between Heathrow and Paddington Station. At which point someone else so kindly adopted it.
Love London parks…all of them.
To say that I beat myself up as I searched every inch of Heathrow is an understatement.
To say that I was disappointed to have to go back to L.A. early so I could locate my backup drive and get back to work is also an understatement.
To say that I was bitter when Ali and Maya threw me a little wave goodbye and then stayed on another week to enjoy Marks and Spencer, fabulous Indian food, Harrods, and Legoland (Truth: I’m actually happy I missed that little excursion), is the biggest understatement of all.
Love the food in London: Caprese at Zoom, Salmon at Sofra, Salmon Salad at Prezzo, Salad at Le Pain Quotidien.
Naturally, I took my bitterness out on Ali.
“I’m not sure what upsets me more – the fact that you get to stay in London, or the fact that I can’t seem to come up with a reason to blame you for my laptop being stolen.”
Love Haagen-Dazs in London…didn’t love Maya’s sugar rush after the fondue though.
Ali: “Well actually, it is my fault your laptop got stolen – because I suggested we take the Heathrow Express. If we’d just taken the London Underground everything would have probably been okay.”
Love the River Thames…can you tell I love London?
And this? This is why I can overlook the fact that my husband tells me I have fat thighs.
london town
Experts say that after being married for a while you start adopting your significant other’s bad habits. Well, after 13 years of marriage I can now confirm this is accurate.
Example: I’ve recently adopted my husband’s love of procrastination.
Dinner at the delicious La Porte Des Indes in London.
I currently need to…
- Pack up our condo,
- Find a reliable / reputable mover (if such a thing exists),
- Shop for new / smaller furniture that will fit in our much smaller NYC apartment,
- Enroll Maya in a new school, and
- Find a new job.
Other meals in London: Dinner at Strada, Lunch at Fortnum & Mason, Lunch at Sofra (one of my favorites!), Tea at the Royal Academy of Art
But when my husband (who apparently has nothing moving-related to worry about) said, “NYC is only a 6 hour flight from London, do you want to go?”
The only sensible answer – the only possible answer – was, “Yes, of course I want to go.”
At the park when I dragged Ali out for a walk…not sure why he isn’t adapting my good habits?
So I’ve decided that for now, instead of stressing out about everything, I’m going to have a scone and pretend all is just great.
But next week? When I get home? Next week is going to be scary.
While I'm not going to win Mother/Wife of the Year Award anytime soon, I haven't killed anyone yet or shot myself in the head. And that, my friends, is how I calculate success these days. 
FANCY THAT FANCY THIS 