We finally made it home. After hours of memorizing that airport back and forth, the people walking, the babies crying, the passengers demanding some kind of accommodation, I finally got home and eventually made it to my room.

I crashed as usual and didn’t open my eyes until late in the afternoon.

For a moment I wondered where I was, then voila, I’m home.

And although I enjoy writing, I decided I was too tired to even open my laptop. So I took a break from social life, no Facebook or twitter, just the ocean, truly enjoying people watching and people being high on happiness.

Here by the ocean, I have enough time to recharge and to think about my future options.

My friend whom I’m staying with told me that her parents will be visiting for Christmas and so I knew that was coming. I will have to move out and pronto.

She wants to paint my room and fix some things around the house before they get here.

I was reading a book the other day “The Millionaire Fastlane” I know right! That book is the antithesis of what my lifestyle is well, maybe not completely.

Anyway, the author uses a technique to decide whether he should make a decision or not, you know those tough ones. In my case I feel stuck, I can’t afford LA, so should I move to Durham and help my friend out with his carpet cleaning business?

That is the question.

The idea is to make a table and assign a numerical value to each category that you consider important to you. The choice with the highest score is the right one.

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So like I mentioned last time, I went to see “In Search of the Israeli Cuisine”. Besides the fact that I was late by a few minutes -which caused me not to be able to find my friends inside the theater, everything was fine. I’m late often but this time I had a valid excuse -have you ever tried to find parking in LA? Well, that was me yesterday.

The good thing is that because I was late I got to shake hands with the director. Yes, that’s one of the advantages of going and see an independent film, the makers themselves are often there, promoting their own piece of art.

Photo credit: Florentinefilms.com

Photo credit: Florentinefilms.com


A side note about that picture above. I could have had my picture taken with the filmmaker but I’m very bad with phones and I also forgot. So here he is straight from his website.

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The plane is severely delayed.

Some people are angry and screaming at the gate agents, some are demanding compensation. Me? I just want to go home. It feels I‘ve been traveling for the past six months, the word exhausting can’t even begin to describe how I feel, mostly because I’m so numb due to experiencing ETS (excessive traveling syndrome).

But it’s always better to write, it distracts me from reality, the reality that chances are I will have to spend the night here or at least a few more hours. It’s already past 9pm and home is five and half hours away. That’s just flying time by the way.

A little humor goes a long way

Source: Cheezeburger.com

Source: Cheezeburger.com


Anyway, I’m looking around. I usually love airports -no right now but I usually do- and all I can think of is the airport in Tel-Aviv.

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I’m at the airport in Raleigh, flight doesn’t leave until a few hours which is good because for the first time since I started this blog I’m not blogging at midnight.

I slept well last night, in fact, I fell asleep with the laptop open and the light of the screen lighting my face, awww I think it made me look like an angel, lol.

Anyway, going back home and staying home for a while, I’m already planning what I need to do. First, I’m going to hit In-N-Out Burger, I’m a girl with priorities. Sadnly they’re only in the West but boy, aren’t they the best burgers ever.

Then I want to hang out near Venice, nothing fancy and changes are I’ll probably go by myself, but I need that me time so bad and just to be near the ocean is going to be so nice.  

I’m thinking I should even leave my phone at home, so I’m not glue to Facebook and such. I don’t need to see pictures of the wedding or of Peter’s party. I hate pictures so I’m never in them, smart I know.

I got hungry and airport food is horrible so I’ll stick to a sandwich and some water. I’m really thoughtful today. In all seriousness, planning my life ahead is daunting. First I’m staying at my friends, that’s fine and all but at some point I will have to move out right?

And because I’ve always believe in freedom from the system I don’t have a steady career of anything like that.

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That party was amazing, the perfect size for me, not huge and intimate enough to get to know his new friends, a group of about eight people including me and his mom.

I hang out and spent most of the time learning about his friends. These are business people! I’m not really surprised because Peter has been involved in the family business for quite a few years now so naturally his circle of friends would have similar interests.

It was also motivating to know that people are making it on their own and finding freedom from their regular jobs. Peter says his offer stands still, I think he really wants me here in Durham. I tell him I still need to have a pillow talk, and mostly I just want to go home to LA.

I still have not recovered completely from that wedding, I’m jet-lagged and I feel I’m still digesting all that food.

The weather outside the porch is nice, cool 60 degrees here in the city and no humidity, that’s one of my concerns, the humidity in the East Coast can be brutal, I know because I lived in Florida for a few years. It really drags you down. But we continue to chat between beers.

The party’s almost over and I have not eaten much, I just don’t feel like it. I’m also flying back to LA tomorrow. Once I get there I’m going to retrieve to my room for a few days to recover from all this going to places. I love traveling but this is a bit too much, even for me. I need some much deserve alone time.

There still Danya (one of Peter’s friends) and Anna still hanging out and enjoying themselves, it’s past 10 now and I’m ready for bed. I’m making an effort to stay up but I really can’t anymore.

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Hey y’all, I’m in the South! I’m writing this from Durham in the midst of hurricane Matthew. Good thing Peter’s place is about four hours from the coast but man have I seen devastation here.

I can’t help but think of the people in Florida and Haiti, just horrible. I once went through a category 3 hurricane while I was living in Florida.et me just say this: Never. Again. And Matthew was a 4, no thank you.

I was just talking to my friends back in LA about here and the destructive powers of nature. That’s why if I see something bad heading my way, I pay my respects and move out of the way immediately. I ain’t playing with that, nosir.

Anyway, back to Peter. It’s nice to see him and his family. His mom was always nice even when she was going through divorce. I think she decided to move out here to forget about the bad stuff that happened in LA, good for her but bad for my friendship with Peter, he moved out here shortly after she did, mostly to keep her company and help her out a bit.

People usually ask me, are you guys dating?

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That wedding took two days. A day of celebration and a day to recover from all the celebration. I think I gained a few pounds just from the wedding alone, I ate things I can’t pronounce and a lot of them. I had fun although I made a few cultural mistakes, like sitting where the men were sitting, I was just trying to sit so I could eat but didn’t notice anything weird until all eyes were on me, lol.


I’m back home in Los Angeles now but not for long. I leave for the East Coast in mere three days, my best friend lives in Durham, he’s turning 30 and throwing a big party for everyone who feels sorry for his old age, haha. I haven’t seen him in a while and plane tickets were on sale. I know, excuses.

I have to admit it feels so good to be back home, by home I mean the US, I love traveling but boy I wouldn’t trade some home comforts, like familiar food and languages and old friends, yes. I want to hang out with Peter and the whole Irish clan. Irish people rock, they really know how to have fun, just like Italians do.

Anyway, back to LA. LA is in interesting place, people either love it or hate it. I don’t care what people say about Cali. Yes, traffic is tough big time but the city has so much to offer, diversity for one which is how I thrive.

Besides I love having unassuming entrepreneurial friends (like Peter, he’s actually from LA but moved to Durham a few years ago to help in the family business).

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I finally meet with Gabe, at the corner of what looks like an old tea house. I know Gabe from my days in Florida. Good guy, always wanted to get married and have a family. He dated briefly in the States but when it came time to get serious he started dating Jewish. So he’s here, just for the wedding, after all this is done, he’ll be back in Florida and start a life together with his new bride.

His family owns a lot of businesses here, they have a pharmacy and a grocery store and probably much more. Anyway, it’s nice to see him. He brought his dad with him, we talk briefly and off we go. I’m terrified of making a cultural mistake and so I barely talk or share anything. Streets are hilly here so it’s a challenge to walk around town.

At some point we get to his house and meet all of his family. He introduces me as the friend from the US, I guess it stuck because for the next two days I became “the friend from the US”. That’s fine with me.

Most of them speak only Hebrew and some English. One of the girls ask me if I want to go to the beauty salon to have my hair done and I say yes. We walk there. I love walking to places and we walk everywhere here. There are cars but this location seems to have everything nearby. The beauty place is full of ladies who are going to the wedding too so there’s a long wait, good thing I decided to come here early/ It’s 5pm and finally my turn.

I have two girls working on my hair and makeup. I have no idea what they’re doing as they speak no English but I surrender and let them have fun. The results? Different. I like the look, they made my eyes look like Melania Trump’s eyes, they look a little squinty, it’s all makeup baby and it looks cool!

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I open my eyes and what do I see? I see a yellow wall covered with old wallpaper. The yellow is fading at the top and the wallpaper suffers from curled up corners, it’s like the paper trying to escape and era that doesn’t exist anymore.

I haven’t seen wallpaper in a very long time and certainly not like this one, so jewish, so 60s or maybe 40s. I keep forgetting where I am. Where am I again? That’s right, Jerusalem! I remember this and bolt out of bed.

I’m looking out the window, and I start a session of people watching. Women dressed in unicolor long skirts, usually of dark color. Most of them or maybe all of them wear a headscarf. Women go back and forth, busy, I guess they’re going somewhere.

Men are also going somewhere. Their wardrobe is a mix between traditional and more modern but undoubtedly all locals have sideburns, they’re long and curly and I wonder what that means but I’m too engage in the current picture to google anything.

There’s a lot of pedestrians, maybe because I’m used to the States where we depend on cars so much but these people are either walking or taking public transportation. It feels a little bit like New York.

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Jerusalem Next Day Dome of the Rock

Jerusalem (Next Day) Dome of the Rock

So like I said here, I like to travel, I really don’t get the point of staying in one place when the world is such a colorful melting pot.

So I did, this time I ended up in the Middle East, I am not always this spontaneous but a friend of mine was getting married and so yea, I used that as an excuse. I’m shameless like that.

After a long flight from La Guardia to Belgium -that had me stuffing my face with the most unfathomable chocolate Belgian waffles- and from there to Tel Aviv I finally land in Israel.

It took forever BUT I’m finally here and I still cannot believe it.

I land in Tel Aviv and the first thing I notice is how I have become completely illiterate, funny feeling when I look at the airport signs and I don’t know what they say, maybe they say “No speaking English” or “Reading this sign is illegal” but how would I know? I can’t read! I can’t speak either, I mean, I know no Hebrew.

I notice my heart is pumping fast, I thrive in situations like this where I wonder how the heck am I going to find a hotel, which by the way I have no reservations for either.

I look at the clock, the shorter hand points at 12, yes, it’s midnight.

I go through the large sliding glass door that separates the fancy airport lights with the darkness of the streets.

I’m looking in all directions when suddenly, I hear a man yelling, Jerusalem, Jerusalem! Did I hear correctly?

For a second I felt home, just like you hear men yelling outside LAX to get the last batch of passengers in the shuttle.

The man repeats, Jerusalem, Jerusalem leaving in 5!, jeez, I better hurry up.

Sir, I said without thinking about language barriers or anything, how long to Jerusalem?

Twenty minutes, he said.

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