Please Come to Boston

What a strange feeling to wake up in my old room this morning - for a moment there, I was 12 years old again. Ever since I lost the taste for coffee after I had my tonsils removed when I was 40, I don't crave the morning wake up liquid any more. In fact, I never drink it anymore (although, I will force myself to recapture the joy of it in Italy). All of this throughly confused my mother as to what to give me in the morning.

My dad joined us at the the table and there the three of us sat like nothing had changed. It was surreal, comical and strangely comforting all at the same time. We cleaned up and headed to my Aunt Lil's for a quick visit. Lil is my grandmother's sister and anyone who's read my blogs knows how much I adored my father's mother. Aunt Lil is my connection to a past that often comforts me. She is 93, lives by herself and is quite the Italian spitfire still. She doesn't move as fast as she once did, but there she sits holding court in her kitchen, scratching the lottery tickets I brought her. She informed that she was too old and tired to cook, but of course, that was lie. There on the stove was my favorite breakfast of potatoes and eggs. Alas, my aunt only won $10 on the over 15 scratch tickets. The state lottery has quite the racket going.

Sufficiently stuffed, I headed into Boston to pay a quick visit to the NBC affiliate, WHDH. On the Orange Line, I couldn't help but notice how hardened the women look here. Maybe it's surviving the horrid winters, but for sure they could beat the shit out of an LA girl any day.

Meeting up with my brother for a quick hello and to borrow his digital camera as mine has decided to bite the dust after I don't know how many years, I stopped into the local NBC affiliate to say hello. I got a quick tour of the studio and then decided to walk back to the South End. I've forgotten how wonderful a walking city Boston is - I didn't think twice about getting on the train and instead, enjoyed the stroll through the Boston Common and Public Garden. I stopped to look at the swan boats - a fun and silly ride that my mom used to take us to when we were small. The water seemed fathoms deep back then, so it's with amusement that I can look at it and realize the water would barely reach my waist today.

Tonight, my friend Josh and I are out on the town after dinner with my cousin Donna. There will be no train until tomorrow when I return to Medford. Maybe I should bring some mace - these Boston women scare me.

Welcome to Medford

Babies love me. I don't know why and I've long since stopped questioning, but I find it rather amusing that things I don't know what to do with - babies, puppies, kittens - all seem to gravitate towards me. There I was, playing with the small little creature in the seat opposite me. She, or he, was thrilled at my attention and I must admit, it was rather amusing for about five minutes. Baby after baby came down the one aisle of the plane, stopped at my seat, looked up at me and decided I was someone they wanted to know. I found this rather disconcerting, but I played along.

As coast-to-coast flights go, this one was pretty smooth. One or two air bumps, but overall, it was one of my better times in the air. I looked around at all the children on their ipods and ipads and wondered when I got so old. Landing at Logan Airport felt strangely relaxing - the prodigal son come home.

Getting to Alamo rentals was easy enough and I got a free upgrade - which, I might add was a good thing as the last compact car had New Jersey plates and the last thing I wanted was to drive a car from New Jersey. I'm in Boston, I want Massachusetts plates, please. Now, keep in mind that I drive a 1997 Honda Civic, so stepping into the 2011 Ford Focus, I was clueless on all the new gadgets that come with cars. It took me a while to get comfortable, but soon I was on the road, driving past the sign beckoning me to visit the 50-foot tall Madonna (no, not THAT Madonna) on the hillside. I remember visiting that crazy piece of religious stone when I was a kid - let's just say, it's an experience. The memory made me laugh as it got me in just the right mood for the many statues and other religious artifacts that my mom and I will visit in Italy.

Really? Who can eat two of these in one sitting?

No matter how long I have been away, the road to Medford remains easy and familiar. There was my father, the little big man, Alfred, waiting in the driveway to help me with my bags. Inside, at the top of the stairs - my mom, all giddy with excitement to have the prince of the family home again at last. And that's when I smelled the aroma of the world's best stuffed artichokes. Huge and overflowing with breadcrumbs, there were far too many for me and my high school friend Dana to eat. (Alas, my friend Anthony is under the weather - but there's plenty of leftovers should he get hungry.) The last time Dana was in my parents' house was in 1983, the day after our senior prom. Despite Rosemarie's pleas for us to eat two artichokes a piece, each of us had one and shared another.

We look exactly the same as we did in 1983.

"Just imagine," I said to Dana. "In high school, she made us eat two a piece AND made us chicken cutlets and mashed potatoes to go along with it."

It was a great way to usher in my first night back in the old house. Dana drove off in her little pink scooter - quite an amusing sight - and now my mom and I will settle in and watch some NBC fall pilots. Yes, working at the network does carry some privileges.

Click the picture for more eating shots

Arrivederci Los Angeles

I could not sleep a wink last night and was wide awake this morning at 4:30 am. In the grand scheme of things, it's only thirty minutes earlier than I normally wake up to go to the gym. Packed and ready, I set out for LAX with my roommate Andrew behind the wheel. Double checking everything is an understatement from me and it was hard to ignore the huge note I wrote on the front door reminding myself to not only bring the biscottis I had made earlier in the week, but also to not forget the lunch I packed. Virgin America may have some snazzy planes, but they still don't feed you.

What is with LAX in the mornings? It's mind boggling to see the line of cars and the amount of people all going to destinations unknown. Right from the moment you check in, Virgin gives you the full Kylie Minogue experience. It's music, great lighting and smiles all around. Alas, though, it seems I am on the flight that was reserved for babies and families with children under the age of four.

Currently, the baby in seat 6B is sleeping soundly against his mother's bosom, but the baby in the back has decided that he should scream as loud as his lungs will allow. In front of me on the jetway was the family of five - five - how do people have five children all under the age of six - how is that humanly possible? These bionic breeders decided  they could walk no slower than the two year old. I smiled, remembering that this is the start of my long awaited vacation and to keep my mind firmly planted on what waits at my destination.

For now, I have books, movies and my computer to keep me company. We are currently over the state of Nevada and it's time to settle in for the remaining portion of my flight. The baby in the back has ceased its cries for the moment, but there's nothing stopping it from waking up and then again, nothing stopping me from  "accidentally" spilling my drink on its mother on my way to the restroom.

Bags Don't Fly Free

Alas, even though I'm a virgin once again tomorrow, I still have to pay for my bag on my flight to Boston. I've checked in online, printed my boarding card and now I'm making sure I have everything I need before I leave the office today. I was so excited last night that I hardly slept and tonight will be even worse. It always feels like Christmas to me before my vacations and this year is no different. With my mom being somewhat experienced now in international travel, she shouldn't be as nervous as she was when we left for Paris last spring. I'll still need to see exactly what she's packing though, and do some filtering of her luggage contents.

I'm perfectly presentable as I did a whole weekend of beauty treatments. I can't go back to Massachusetts looking unkempt and non - L.A. - that just wouldn't do it at all. I do know that after two weeks with my mother, my accent is going to be in full force upon my return. I suppose that's not a bad thing, it'll be paht of my chahm for weeks to follow.

More Old Friends Ahead

It is finally the week I'm leaving for Boston and then the start of Travels with my Mom, Part Two will be in full swing. I'm a zombie in the office today - looking over our plans, making sure everything is in place before my flight on Wednesday morning to Boston.

In addition to be another great trip to Europe with Rosemarie, the Boston leg of my vacation is going to be full of more old friends. In addition to Anthony, my high school partner-in-crime (well, really not crime - the worst thing the two of us did was skip Psychology), our friend Dana is also joining us for dinner at my parents' house. My mom hasn't seen Dana since we all graduated, so it's going to be a fun feast of food and laughs.  As if that wasn't enough, my best girlfriend of my younger days, Dawn is going to be in Gloucester with her family. Dawn and I worked the headhunter scene when recruiting firms were all the rage. For years we cold called and promised high paying jobs to secretaries, nurses and receptionists while we scrapped by on commission. She remains the one girl I would have taken home to meet my mother - but then again, if I had, I probably would have wanted to wear her wedding dress, which was one of the most gorgeous gowns I have ever seen. At her wedding ceremony, I begged her if I could  wear it and I think I shocked every proper southern bridesmaid in her party.

Work is not high on my list for the next two days but, I fear, I will at least have to make a somewhat concerted effort to stay engaged. Somewhat being the operative word.

The Countdown Is Reaching A Fever Pitch

The June gloom has lifted from the skies of Los Angeles and my anticipation for the start of my vacation has reached a new pitch. I've warned my co-workers that I will be pretty useless most of next Monday and Tuesday, so if they need something of importance they should get me this week while I am still somewhat concentrating on work.

My mother is headed out this weekend to buy the aforementioned artichokes and I can already taste their steamed and stuffed leaves. It's going to be made even more special because my high school partner in crime, Anthony will be joining us for dinner. I've lost count on how much food my mom has cooked the two of us and over 25 years later, she's pulling out all the stops again.

I best get running on the treadmill again and eat nothing but salad greens until I get to Boston. One thing's for sure - I'm not stepping foot on a scale for weeks after my return.  

Uffizi Made Easy

Today, so my  mom and I don't have to stand in line, I bought our tickets to the Uffizi Gallery. Since we arrive in Florence on Monday afternoon - July 4th - I thought we'd have our own little American Independence celebration that night, explore the city on Tuesday and spend Wednesday wandering the halls of the famous museum. Last year, tickets to the Louvre were the one thing I did not pre-purchase and we waited for some time to get to the counter. Although my mom did have fun talking with a little old lady behind her in line who then mysteriously disappeared from sight. It was very mysterious and spooky.

I love the art in the Uffizi. When I first went in 1999, I spent hours marveling at the works on display. The funny thing is that I never go to museums here - but in Europe, I could spend endless amounts of time in them. The gallery has an audio tour - but you can bet I'll still be able to hear my mother as she attempts to talk to me during the afternoon.