Mean Girls

I have a boyfriend. I am not saying this to brag or to encourage questions about the lad. I am just stating a fact. We have a lot in common. We both like movies and books and talking about movies and books. We both enjoy a political debate and we both think that we are funnier than the other. But, he likes football and I (to put it mildly) do not. I like opera and he does not. We get along just fine without becoming each other. He likes his space and I like mine.

But, a strange thing happens to a woman when she gets a boyfriend. She changes. For some of us it is a short-term change that holds no real lasting effects. For others, it is a drastic change that seeps into every other part of her life. I like to think I belong to the former category. I mean, lets face it ladies, we all go through it. We meet a boy and want to be with him all the time. And we do…for about a month or so. For that month we shun all other life forms and responsibility because we “have met someone”. We see them every chance we get and think of them when they are not there. It is sweet, that first month. For most of us this feeling tapers off and we begin to reintegrate into society. For other women, they simply disappear. They are referred to henceforth as his name and her name: What are Brad and Alice doing tonight? Did you hear from Brad and Alice? They lose identity and become…the girlfriend.

These are the lost girls; the girls that used to be our friends until they “found someone”. This is about that best friend you used to have, the one you shared everything with until she met HIM. This is about the girl who used to be fun, but you never see her any more. You probably hate her right now but try not to. It is not her fault. This girl doesn’t even see what she is doing. At one point she probably made fun of another friend for becoming everything her boyfriend was. Ah yes. It is sometimes hardest to see what is in the mirror.

Remember that movie “Runaway Bride” with Julia Roberts? Yes, I know it was pretty bad, but that is beside the point. There is a scene in that film where Julia is at a diner and is asked what kind of eggs she likes. A simple enough question, right? Well, she can’t answer. It turns out that all of her life she has liked her eggs the way her boyfriend of the moment likes his eggs. Brad likes them scrambled? I like ‘em scrambled. Brad likes tofu salad? Me too! Brad hates Sushi? I hate Sushi. Brad is a Christian? I am too! Brad wants to move to Zimbabwe? I think that’s a great idea! It is sad to see a woman want affection so badly she can’t even remember her own likes and dislikes.

Most of us have gone through a lot of trouble in becoming the woman that we are today. I know I have been through many ups and downs, ins and outs, twists and turns in order to be the badass babe you see today. I went through phases and looked for myself all over the globe. I dated all sorts of men and even married one. I have changed a lot in the past 34 years. So, why is it that if we spend years trying to find ourselves, why do we get lost in our men?

And it is not like there is a shortage of men out there. The male of the species can be found just about everywhere. I saw some today at the grocery store, in line for the Metro and walking a dog. Seriously, men are everywhere. And, if there are so many men, then why is it that women will change themselves and abandon their girlfriends just to keep one? I mean a woman will change her appearance, her clothes, and her friends if she thinks it will keep a man. Oh, she won’t do this in a conscience way, but she will do it. And once that is done all she has succeeded in doing is alienating her friends and demeaning herself.

And ladies, lets think about it. Do men go through this? Hell no! There are countless songs, movies and books written about the pure and simple fact that men don’t change. They stay true to their friends and all of their annoying habits no matter how hard we try to break them of it. Do men leave their guy friends when they get a girl? Nope. Men stay true to themselves. They have a saying…Bros before hos. And all that means is you need your friends – the ones that were with you when you were single – and you always will. Women just don’t seem to understand that.

So ladies never cancel plans with your friends in order to do something with your man. Never say, “let me see what Brad is doing” before making plans with your friends. You need to stand firm. If you start canceling plans, you'll quickly find that there's never a good time to hang out with your own friends. If you still have any.

Oh, and I thought I’d tell you – I like my eggs scrambled, in the style of Huevos Rancheros or Cadbury. And I have no clue how my boyfriend likes them.

LA LA LAnd.

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 cusine. Please take note of the peas. Yes. The peas. The peas that are on a plate with an omlette 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 mono-sylabic 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. My mom Jenn and I went to my old favorite El Portal and grubbed on burritos and margaritas. It was nice.

Shortly after this I got strep throat.

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 turists 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.