I'm Ready... Is Europe?

Two suitcases, five carry-ons, three girls, two cameras, a patient husband, an overly excited nomadic mama and her five pairs of heels... all set for Europe for a few weeks.

Last year, we planned this trip to try to shake things up a little bit. We didn't count on buying a new home and moving away from the Valley, the trials and joys of learning a new house's quirks, or the unexpected sadness of Max's death. But life has a way of just rolling along and we're just going with it.

At one point, during the toughest part of the last month, Raf said, "This is the most poorly timed trip ever." I sulked - you have to know that I love traveling and that I have poured more than an ounce of excitement into this particular trip, in which I'll finally get to expose my kids to the experience of traveling on planes, trains and automobiles in Europe - and I eventually conceded that he was probably right. But I lied.

In light of sadness and change and uncertainty, the severing of all ties -- including language and customs and culture and home and the trappings of "normal" -- seems like the best thing for us, perhaps the ONLY thing for us to do now.

Raf is used to making "worst case scenario" plans now and he is suddenly unafraid to tell people what needs to happen with our businesses, etc., if we don't come back. Ordinarily, I might be worried about this, but there's a certain lightness to that existential way of thinking. We can perhaps be free to explore and do and be what we want, whatever that may be.

That's my story. Europe, you ready?

A Raging Time in San Dimas

A few weeks ago, my aunt and I planned to take my kids to Disneyland after school let out; because she works there, we can usually get in free, a definite plus (though I would gladly pay for a Disney day).

My kids were looking forward to it and talking about it and counting down the days... until my aunt called and said that she'd had to have an emergency dental surgery and would have to reschedule our outing. After a few tears were shed, I knew I had to come up with a Plan B.

And so I took the girls to Raging Waters in San Dimas, CA, on Wednesday during the first official week of summer. I thought it would be crowded and hot, but I just braced myself and decided to suck it up.

I'm so glad I did; the park wasn't crowded at all and the weather was perfect (in the 80s). Compared to Disneyland's Park Hopper prices, it was also relatively inexpensive to spend a day at Raging Waters: $36.99 for general admission and $22.99 for junior admission (48" and under; I didn't ask whether or not this is offensive to little people, but I'm assuming they mean kids).

There are two picnic areas with cooler storage at Raging Water; however, I found that even the meal we got at the burger joint right inside the park was reasonable for an amusement park, with kids' meals hovering around $7 for a cheeseburger, fries (or apples) and a drink. There were "healthy" options, too, like chicken sandwiches and a caesar salad, and a pizza place and ice cream shops on the lower level.

Perhaps due to the temperate weather, there weren't a lot of people. In fact, most rides had little or no wait. My kids (ages 8 and 9) rode the Vortex and Dark Hole several times while my 5-year-old and I tooled around the lazy river on inner tubes (called the Amazon Adventure) and floated in the Wave Cove. The only wait we had was for Thunder Rapids, which simulates a whitewater rafting journey down a twisty luge-like slide - for about 30 minutes, my kids and I stood in dripping swimsuits in a shady line. Still, that was our only wait all day, so we were fine with it (except that my 8-year-old thought it was way too short of a ride!).

The only drawbacks were the general lack of cleanliness in the bathrooms and changing areas, though I saw people cleaning these areas constantly... I suppose it's just the nature of a wet theme park to have gross bathrooms.

A HUGE plus, though, were the lifeguards. The website touted the park's 250 lifeguards and I had thought, Yeah, right! But there were lifeguard stands EVERYWHERE, probably every 10 yards at most attractions and the guards were very serious about watching guests and blowing their whistles at anyone who was outside the lines or being unruly. As a mom with three kids there, I felt very safe and secure; I knew that not only would my kids be watched (by me or a guard) but that teens wouldn't be allowed to be too rowdy near us. (God, I sound old just writing that, but you mamas know what I mean.)

In all, it was a very fun day and we left right as the park was closing. I know it will be much, much busier as the summer heats up, but if we lived closer I may have paid for season passes (2 for $99, and you could apply the cost of the day's admission, too).

The best part? As we were leaving, I got a text from my aunt saying that it was good we had rescheduled Disneyland... turns out that California Adventure had been closed several times this week due to FULL CAPACITY crowds. Thank you, Raging Waters, for saving the day!

Malibu

So, it can seem pretentious, pampered, provincial, pricey, too A-list, too D-list, take itself too seriously...

But damn, it's pretty.

Rose Bowl Flea Market

The Rose Bowl Flea Market is not only a large congregation of avid scavengers, hoping for a good deal or a collectible find. It is also a damn good time, if you're up for a little dirt, dust and sun.

For instance, my girlfriend KP found this saber and a few other dagger holsters (I mean, really, is there a term for those??). I'm thinking she could just attach one to her belt and voila! Instant glamour.
Her son and I found a frozen lemonade stand and shared a frosty treat. Doesn't look like he's happy to share his lemonade with a weird cougar in a floppy old hat, but I assure you, he was just fine.

This is a photo of our husbands, mine holding a real set of antlers, checking out antique rifles and Swiss Army knives. You know, like every other Sunday.

My finds for the day: a vintage polyester dress (Halston-esque, but only $5), a framed 1970s photo of a mom and two kids dressed as Indians in front of a homemade teepee, a 1960s 8x10 b/w photo of four teen girls on carousel horses, a nicely worn leather Coach purse (for $25!), and of course the antlers, which I'll display in our new house in the rural horse country of Conejo Valley.

Fleas? Heavens, no. Just a whole lotta market and roses among the dirt.

Holi Hai: The Rainbow Collision

So, my friend Anjalika and her husband Anjul are not only extremely good-looking, but they are Indian by culture (though they are as American as me, just with nicer skin and hair). And this year, they threw a Holi Hai party and invited all of us "non-Indians" to join in the fun of throwing colored dust and spraying colored water at each other to celebrate the arrival of spring.

I knew something was up when she asked us all to wear white. Moms never wear white... and expect it to stay white.

My kids and I were the first to arrive (we live down the street) and Anjalika (a sprite of a woman in a bright pink sari) sprinkled orange, green, pink and blue powders on our heads and spread them on our cheeks. It was all very demure and cute... until later, when the party really got going and she was dumping rainbow powders all over everyone's heads to the raucous beats of Bollywood music.

The highlight was Anjalika's turn as dance teacher -- she recently shared with me that she had studied Indian dance for years and in college, then spent seven years in India, acting in Bollywood films and dancing. Although I never really got beyond the "screwing in lightbulbs" motion of my hands while swiveling my hips, Anjalika was mesmerizing. "Louder!" she kept shouting to the people by the CD player, and the music pulled all of us into the dervish-swirl of Indian sights, sounds and tastes. It was a magical, memorable day under the canopy of her backyard's trees.

And did I mention the food?? Samosas (potato-filled pastries) and pani puri (crisp hollow dough balls that you fill with a concoction of potatoes, spicy water and chutneys). It was decadent and delicious and spicy.

Forget Easter and Passover. I don't want to talk about suffering in the springtime anymore. I want my life to be filled with the Magical Mystery Tour of Holi!

Karma Chameleon

When my friend Anjalika threw a party to usher in springtime - the festival is called "Holi Hai" in India (Anjalika's family is from New Delhi) - well, I knew just what to wear. Aside from the clean white shirt (which gets rainbow-colored with pigment powders and squirt guns filled with colored water as the day goes on), I wore my sari.

Oh yeah, of course I have a sari.

When I was in my 20s, I became a bit of a cultural chameleon. I bought this sari in Little India (Artesia) during my Bollywood phase, when I wore bindis to nightclubs and painted my eyes with kohl. I also had an Asiaphile phase in which I wore my mandarin-colored silk pajama jacket over a t-shirt and jeans to dim sum in Chinatown. And you know about my Italy fixation, and I'm sure I'll catch some Francophilia and Barceloneliness while I'm in Europe this summer.

But, even though I had the right thing to wear, I didn't know how to put it on. Anjalika's poor mum had to fold it up and wrap me like a Mumbai burrito!

The Summer Me

I love to travel and I love Italy. Though we are not planning to go back to Italy until next summer -- for my whiz-bang 40th birthday -- I saw this article in Conde Nast Traveler about "Beaches in Italy" and my excitement is brewing.

This summer, we're taking the girls to Spain and France, no slouches when it comes to the beach-loving Mediterranean lifestyle. We'll be going from the Atlantic side to the Med side and then up to Paris - it has been planned for months and not even our crazy schedule with moving has dampened our enthusiasm. If anything, it's been good, helping to keep us occupied with "reality," so that maybe we can simply relax and enjoy our time in Europe -- we may even forgo all cultural activities (museums, must-see sites) so that we can merely hang on the beach and eat loads of ice cream and practice the art of doing nothing. It's all so good.

But back to the Summer Me. In addition to getting all my guide books and maps, I have been cutting out images of what I want to look like, seem like in my summer glory. Inspiration for the Summer Me. I'm seeing big hats, big sunglasses, tanned skin, scarves, cork wedge heels. In essence, Sophia Loren on the Italian Riviera.

So what if we're not going to Italy this summer? I may have to unleash my inner Sophia on the other parts of Europe...