Home, Sweet, Home

I awoke Friday morning in the comfort of my quaint boutique hotel room in the Lakeview section of Chicago. A sweet hotel on a tree lined street equipped with a king sized bed, comfy sheets and a late check out. This would be my day to sleep in. The is the last day on the road for a while since I would be driving to Cincinnati today for an extended stay.

I awoke around 9:20, strolled downstairs to catch the complimentary continental breakfast, piled a tray of food and headed back to the room. I stripped off my clothes, turned off the phone and rolled back into bed for a requited sleep. I awoke around 11:05 from a dream. A dream that placed me in a friend's house to where she delivered some bad news. She was ill and devastated. I tried to soothe her and give her theories of why and how this could have happened to her before I woke.

I hadn't talked to her in a while and decided that as soon as I get on the road today, I was going to call her and check in. I leaned over to check the time on my phone. I had two missed calls since I shut off my phone at 10:00. My sister and my friend I had just dreamt about. Without checking my voicemail, I immediately dialed my friend's number. She picked up and sounded somber. She proceeded to tell me about a doctors visit she had that morning. She had terrible news. She was ill and devastated.

I won't get into the details of the illness out of respect for her privacy, but could not help but want to share the near cosmic alignment that had just happened. Within the brief hour that I had fallen back asleep, I had a dream that delivered the exact news she had left me a message about. After weeks without any communication with her, she would call me on that day, at that hour, while I was having a dream about the exact news she was calling to deliver. This is beyond coincidental. She agreed we are definitely connected in some way.

I can't help but believe that there are powers out there that we don't always understand. A current that pulls us in the direction of places and people. An energy that is so profound and influential it has the ability to highjack our subconscious and send ripples through our senses. If we could only learn to trust it and tap into the messages it sends, we may be able to find answers we crave and direction we desire. We might be able to have faith in that voice in our head and welcome it as a companion to the pull in our gut.

I drove back to Cincinnati concerned for my friend and wandering about that incident and what it could mean. What the voices in my head have been telling me the last couple of years and where the pull in my gut is leading me to now. I have decided to surrender to it and know that wherever I am being pulled and for whatever the reason, it is the place I need to be.

I arrived in Cincinnati at around 9:00 and passed the new stadium, perched alongside the banks of the Ohio river, hosting a winning evening for the Reds. Fireworks illuminated the sky and downtown was alive. The river flowed calm while the skyline beamed argent.

The drive through downtown was a stark reminder of my Dad and how he loved this city. I thought of how much the Cincy skyline has changed since his death in '98.

He would have begged, borrowed and bribed to see me roll through town with a car full of luggage and a moving truck on its way. I couldn't help but think that if there was a higher power and a realm of subconscious I didn't quite understand, maybe it held a connection to my Dad. Maybe the second speeding ticket I received just moments earlier was a way for him to orchestrate my timing to arrive downtown as the fireworks were set off. A way to welcome me back home after a long pilgrimage away.

Even if far fetched.......I choose to believe so.

The Midwest Drive

I was looking forward to the drive to Denver the next morning. I convinced Mapi to take a flight from Denver to Chicago since the drive to Chicago would be long and exhausting. To be honest, I really needed a day or two to myself. The last week has been hectic. It was one delay after the next and I felt pressed and pressured all week. I had a million thoughts running through my mind and I had a need to get them organized in peace and quiet.

I dropped Mapi off at the airport in Denver and checked into a hotel. The next day would be a straight drive through Nebraska and onto Des Moines, Iowa. I took the advice of a friend and bought a few audiobooks to help the time pass. It worked!! It went by without one yawn or regret of driving alone. There was no scenic drive today. Just corn field after chicken farm.

I stopped in Des Moines for the night, and headed back on the road in the morning headed for Chicago. I had been averaging 80 mph the whole trip with an occasional, brief lean towards 90. I was dragging a little bit today, taking longer than usual at each rest stop when Mapi called to see if I would be in Chicago by 6:00 to catch the river boat cruise. It was cutting it close, so I sped up a bit to try and make up the time I had spent piddling around. It didn't last long. Just after crossing the border into Illinois, there he was. A state trooper waiting for me. Lights went on and I pulled over.

He was your typical "midwest nice" and I was your typical cooperative. He loved to hear of my adventure cross country, but wasn't impressed enough to overlook the 90 I was doing in a 65. He asked me to pay the $95 bond in cash right there. So since I am paying bond, does that mean if I didn't have the cash, I would have been arrested?? I asked the question, but was too nervous to absorb his answer. He took my license and walked back to his car to write the ticket. This is when I got real nervous. Was my license in the clear from the restrictions that were placed on it a year ago? What about that camera speeding ticket I got in AZ that I ignored? Would there be a warrant out for my arrest?

I knew when he walked back to the car, it was going to go one of two ways: I would be driving back to Chicago a little poorer and a little more tardy or he would ask me to step out of the car and into his cuffs.

He did walk back, handed me the ticket and asked for the $95 in bond money. As I counted it for him, he asked me to step out of the car. Oh shit!!!! My thoughts are racing. I have my eyes on his holster where his cuffs are just waiting for his hands to grab them. What is going to happen next? If he arrests me, what will happen to my car? Will I be able to notify my friends of what happened? What city jail will I be hauled off to? How long of a delay will this cause?

He asked me to stand next to him in front of his car and count the money in front of the camera. OHHH!!! That's why he wanted me out of the car! The camera. He had to get the exchange of money on camera. Sheeewww!! I was never so relieved to pay off a cop!

He shook my hand and proceeded back to his car and then turned back around as if he had a thought. He said,"Can I ask you a question?".

I said. "Sure".

He said,"You said you are driving cross country, right?".

I replied,"Yes?".

He said," Are you carrying any weapons, cash or drugs?".

Confused, I said, "Ugghhhh....No!".

He said,"Then would you mind if I searched your car?".

WTF!!! This was bizarre. After he had shook my hand and proceeded back to his car, he now wants to search my car as an afterthought??? Bizarre, dude!

I, of course, replied enthusiastically,"Please, go ahead. Be my guest. If you feel a need to. I don't mind!".

He searched my car only to find my luggage, my weights, yoga mat and a few rolls of toilet paper stuffed strategically where space allowed. He shut the trunk and said, "Well, it really looks as if you are driving cross country".

Whatever, you idiot!

I guess Illinois has a problem with all of those all American, blonde, girl next door types, driving alone, speeding through their state with a car full of weapons and drugs. I suppose, I do look a bit suspicious.

I arrived in Chicago nerves in tact and time to spare. I didn't make it in time for the river cruise, but plenty of time to meet up with friends for a bite of Chicago style deep dish pizza and a glass of wine.

Chicago......it's starting to look more like home. Maybe it's the vague similarity to NY as if they were siblings from another mother. Or was it the midwestern aroma that seemed to linger on every corner. Whatever it was, I knew I was getting close. Home was just around the corner!

We Arrive in Aspen

Saturday was a long, hard day made tolerant by the scenic route through central and Eastern Utah. We were exhausted and beat. Our bodies, not used to the early morning call, began to show signs of wear and tear by 4:00. We hit a wall. Should we stop in Moab or push through? If we were to continue, we would arrive in Aspen just at sundown, but we were just so tired!! Stopping in Moab would probably be the logical stop, but knowing that time with our fried in Aspen was limited, I influenced Mapi to charge on. We turned up some music, downed some caffeine and let the slap happy giggles run their course.

We sang and took pictures and stopped for our usual lottery ticket breaks. We arrived in Aspen right as the sun gave its last wink of light. BED!!! All we wanted to know was, "Where is the bed????" Put us down before our last drops of tolerance turn into an angry burst of irritability. We napped and awoke to our friend tugging at our feet, insisting we get up straight away and meet her at the Caribou Club to catch the after festivities of an environmental convention in town. The moment was so quick and laden with grogginess, our surprise of Mapi's company fell flat and nearly ignored.

We would supplement the surprise and catch up the following night with our friend over dinner. She notified us that she was leaving town on Monday instead of Sunday, so we had another day to visit. Tonight, she was preoccupied with moguls and directors of Academy Award winning documentaries and nano technology experts. I had no idea she was so interested in the environment.

Her preoccupation continued into the next afternoon where Mapi and I enjoyed a Sunday brunch at the Little Nell and a ride on the gondola to the top of the mountain. I've never been to Aspen in the summer. It's a different view without the snow capped mountains.  The day sauntered by as we strolled though town meeting new people and shared a flirt with a couple of boys. We then relaxed until it was time for dinner at Il Mulino.

Il Mulino is my all time favorite Italian restaurant. The meal was beautiful, perfect and delicious. So much so, I savored half of my plate and wanted to save the other half for the following day. Unfortunately, the wine was as good as the meal and rendered me forgetful as I left the to go box at the restaurant. I wanted to cry!! An appetizer and two glasses of wine....$80 and I didn't even get to finish the meal. This is like a divorce I never agreed to and he kept all the money and left me with nothing.

The wine was a kickstart to the rest of the evening. More drinks were to follow and a late night ensued. We caught up and told stories of all of the craziness we knew to be LA people.  There was even some craziness and drama brewing amongst us. For some reason tonight, I don't feel like I have escaped LA just yet!

Route 12, The Most Beautiful Road in the Country

We ended the night in Bryce Canyon feeling the effects of being up at 10,000 feet. The pressure does something strange to your stomach. After we ate dinner, it was as if our intestines were trying to fit 10 lbs of bologna in a 5lb bag. As if the air pressure was taking a hold of our stomach by its own two hands and squeezing 'til there was no room left between hands. It hurt. Both of us were coupled over and moaning and groaning as if we were in labor. It became comical once we realized we were having the same problem. Once we became acclimated and laid to rest, the pressure seemed to let up.

We woke at the crack of dawn. It had been the first time that either of us had experienced the morning this early without it involving a late night and some drinks. We strolled over to the restaurant to find we were the only ones there. We were actually up before the hikers, bikers and normal folk.

The waitresses were sweet and the hostess warm. As we cashed out at the front register, I struck up a conversation with the middle aged hostess. She was sweet and interested as I described to her my journey away from LA. She proceeded to tell stories of how the women in Utah would never be able to take this kind of journey. She said she dreams of going away for a few days with a girlfriend, but would be quickly corrected by the gossip and shock that would follow from the other women placing a scarlet letter on her for doing so. She would never hear the end of it. She was eager and excited to hear of my blog. I could smell her enthusiasm at the thought of living vicariously through me. The conversation reminds me to be grateful of the freedom I have to live my life as I wish without judgement or influence of others.

We headed into the canyon to catch a glimpse of the magnitude of colors cast on the canyon at such an early hour. It was as if we had the whole park to ourselves. It was empty, except for the occasional park ranger and mule deer grazing on its morning snack. It was peaceful, quiet and cool. We snapped a few pics and proceeded to begin our journey to route 12.

This was it. This is what I had been waiting for for so long. Route 12 to the 24E was absolutely, hands down, unequivocally the most beautiful, scenic drive I have taken in my life. We passed through fields of daisies and at times, it was as if we had landed on several different foreign planets. For a moment, we were on Pluto, then it was Jupiter and eventually onto Mars.      I have never seen mountains of these colors and shapes. Every 30 miles or so the topography changed from one magnificent palette of color to a completely different scene of magnitude. Miles and miles of scenic landscape too grand to do justice in a picture. The camera didn't understand. It just didn't appreciate what we were experiencing with our eyes.

As we turned corners and topped hills, we would gasp with surprise and laugh at the mere disbelief of what we were experiencing. I began to wander why people don't talk about this place. Why don't people gossip about the trip they took through central Utah? Why isn't this the hotspot to tell all of your friends they must experience? Is this a secret amongst normal folk they don't want to spoil by telling the scenesters of LA? Why haven't I ever heard tales of the travels up Route 12 while having sushi at Koi? Or was I so tightly wound in my cocoon in LA that if I was told, I wasn't open to hearing about something so off the beat and path and remote as central Utah.

We took literally hundreds of pictures. At some point we stopped trying to get both of us in pictures together and just started holding the camera out and taking pictures of ourselves with the scene in the background. When you do this, you have to just shoot and hope you are framing it properly. It rarely happens that you get the right expression and framing with out taking about 15 to 20 pics for each scene. And then, if you happen to catch a shot with the right light....jackpot!

The light at some points became so golden and soft we had to take advantage of its polite way of erasing all stress and lack of sleep on our face. When we did find that light, we wanted to benefit from it and squealed to the other to, "Hurry....come here! Look at this light! Take a picture of me here!!!". It became humorous at one point as we made a turn and had to pull over to get a direct shot of a majestic red mountain. The mountain being to my left, I proceeded to shoot out of the car window.

Mapi, on the other hand, found that grand light, kept her back to the mountain and fell in love with her image on the camera as would Narcissus in her reflection in a pond. She gasped and raved about how the light was turning her into a supermodel. I had to, of course, lean over to gain a sliver of this light and take a shot. This moment would later be a moment that would bring us to tears in laughter and tighten our stomachs from merriment just thinking of how we stopped in such a magical, powerful place to take a picture of a mountain and all we could do was look at our image in the lens.

Day 3: Lake Powell, AZ, Bryce Canyon, UT

Ending the day at sunset driving up the 89 freeway towards Lake Powell was spectacular. We were going to try to make it to Kanab, UT for the night, but made a pact not to drive too far past dark. Just as we were arriving at Lake Powell, the sun went down and a thunderstorm was rolling in. I just didn't want to chance it. My eyes seem to play tricks on me when it gets dark and we were just informed by The Grand Canyon park ranger that the 89 freeway is one of the deadliest in the region. Nope! Not interested. Lake Powell would be the next stop!

I am so glad we decided to stop at Lake Powell. I had no idea what I almost missed. It is amazing. It is 186 miles long and there are 24,322,000 acre feet of water. This is definitely a place I would love to come back to, rent a boat and enjoy a few days exploring all the different coves offered. We stayed in the town of Page, AZ, had a bite of sushi for dinner and headed to bed. The next day was going to be a full day of scenic drives up the 89 into Utah. I wanted to make it to route 12 by noon. Route 12 is often referred to as the most beautiful road in the country. I have been wanting to see this for years.


The day started off slow. I was up early and just learning of Mapi's need for sleep. She doesn't function well without a solid 9-10 hours. 9:00 rolled around, then 10, then 11 and 12:00. She finally woke up! This was a true test of my patience. I tried not to let it bother me, but I'm sure she could tell I was anxious to get on the road. We now only had 7 hours of light and would never make it through route 12 today. This would now push our arrival into Aspen to Saturday.....if that.

Mapi and I have a friend in Aspen that was only available until Sunday when she would be leaving town. I wanted to visit with her. We decided to make the fact that Mapi was with me a surprise to our friend. Now, I'm feeling rushed and pressured to get there in time. I hate that! I wanted to relax and enjoy this journey. Oh well! What will be, will be.



We got on the road, headed up the 89 N to the 14 W, 15 N, then onto the prelude to the most beautiful road in the country, route 143. The freshness of the mountain air as we drove through Brian Head and Lake Navajo was intoxicating. It was cool, crisp and left a hint of pine on your palette.









By the time we made it to route 12 and the entrance to Bryce Canyon, it was already close to 5:30. The sun was going down as we entered the park. It was stunning, breathtaking and awe inspiring. We only made it to a couple view points when the sun made its final show. Bryce Canyon would have to be our stop for the night. We committed to getting up at the crack of dawn the next morning to finish Bryce Canyon and head up route 12. With all of the stops along the way, it is likely to take us the entire day to see route 12.

The thing that has amazed me the most through today's drive, was the sky. The color of blue, we have nicknamed "Super Blue" was majestic..... and the clouds!!!! How I have missed clouds living in LA. We had skies like this in Cincinnati where I grew up. A clear blue backdrop with big, fat, puffy, white clouds. The kind of clouds that you could lay in the grass, stare at the sky and watch as they slowly morph from one shape to another. The kind of clouds that take on the shape of elephants, pirates and teacups. The clouds are another reminder of why I am leaving LA. As Mapi would say, "The clouds give the sky personality".

I am looking forward to the night in Bryce Canyon. It is supposed to be the premiere destination for star gazing. The Utah skies give some of the most spectacular star gazing in the country. When I passed through Utah years ago, I remember so clearly stopping at night and being completely taken aback by how dense and low and completely blanketed the sky was with stars. The only time you can see stars in LA is when passing a red carpet event or crossing a velvet rope. I much prefer these. There is a peace and romance in the skies here. A quiet, calm and innocence. A purity that cleanses the soul.

Day 2: The Grand Canyon

We made it to The Grand Canyon late last night, checked into our hotel and proceeded to figure out how I will be able to get the car fixed in the middle of nowhere? We were able to open the driver's side door with a manual key which forced Mapi to crawl in and out of the driver's side. The only way to access our luggage was to squeeze it through the back windows.

The hotel concierge said the nearest town to get the car fixed was Flagstaff, AZ..... an hour and a half away. But, he did say there was a garage inside the park. It was a long shot, but worth the try. Keeping my fingers crossed!!!

We got a late start to our day because of all of the phone calls trying to figure out how and where to get the car fixed. We stopped at the entrance of the park to take a picture when a girl driving an SUV told us to pull over and handed us her 7 day pass to enter the park. She only used it one day and didn't need it anymore. I see it as the beginning of my luck changing.

We found the garage. After about an hour of the mechanics trying to find the fuse box and a few trial fuse replacements, we had power. I asked to settle the bill, but the mechanic didn't feel like doing any paper work and let me off with a smile. We insisted on buying them lunch. My luck is definitely headed in the right direction. Finally, we were on our way to enjoying the first real day of the trip.

The Grand Canyon was amazing. I won't ever forget the first steps to the edge and the magnitude of the view that I saw. I felt like a little kid seeing Santa for the first time. Eyes wide open and giddy at the experience at hand.

When asked, "What is my favorite place to travel"? I always respond, "Any place I have never been". This is why. The joy of experiencing something for the first time is the feeling that drives me. Once things become repetitive and mundane, I lose interest, hence one of the reasons I am leaving LA.

At this point in my life, I have seen a lot and experienced more. It becomes harder and harder to impress me. I am constantly in search of new things to experience to keep me feeling interested and alive. As they say, variety is the spice of life. Right now, my life is an Indian curry mixed with habanero peppers. Delish!

On our way out of the park, we paid it forward by stopping a group on their way in and handing them the 7 day pass we had been given. Little did we know at the time, that our next route to the next town was a route that we could only access from inside the park. We turned around and ended up having to pay the entrance fee. Oh, well!!!

We are back on the road again for the sunset drive through Kaibab Trail and onto the 89 N. Next stop, Lake Powell, AZ.

Day 1: On The Road

Everything up to this date has unfolded so beautifully. It was as if each and every day was picked and planned and played out to perfection. Things have just been falling into place.....until today.

Today is the day I hit the road for the big cross country drive. To start the day, I woke up with a sore throat and tightened sinuses. Next, I had to stop at Fedex to ship the last few remaining boxes. I left my phone there, then proceeded to make wrong turns all over town as if I had never driven here before. I had to make a last minute stop at the apartment to pick up things I forgot and to top it off, I needed to do a last minute detox to try to kick the cold before the mild symptoms that were lurking became full blown. After all of that, I was finally ready to pick up my friend, Mapi, that decided to join me on the road.

I haven't seen her in almost 2 years. She surprised me Sat. night and showed up to say goodbye to me. Instead of saying goodbye, she decided to pack a bag and take the road trip with me. A welcomed companion to enjoy the scenic journey through some of the most beautiful landscape this country has to offer. At about 2:30 pm we were finally headed to the 10 freeway. AT LAST!

The drive offered a lot of catching up and a quick reminder to my friend of the meal I had the night before.....oops! Raw onions and close quarters don't make for a pleasurable ride for anyone. We laughed about it, picked up some mints and got re-acquainted for the next 6 hours.

We were about an hour outside of The Grand Canyon when we stopped for gas. I reorganized a few things in the car and locked it up before heading into the station for lottery tickets. My number one rule of the road, anytime you stop for gas, you must buy lottery tickets. Coincidentally, it was Mapi's rule, too.

As I came back out to the car, we noticed something strange about the door locks. All were locked, but one. It wouldn't respond to clicking, so I pushed at it. As I pushed it, it became spastic. I tried clicking again, and nothing.....on all four doors. No unlocking and no locking. We blew a fuse! All the doors were now locked. The car is filled to the rim with luggage and no way for us to get it out. We are in the middle of nowhere with the nearest BMW dealership 100's of miles away. Great....par for the course today!

Eat, Pray, Love

The day was long and efficient. Organizing three different bundles to pack. One for my road trip cross country, one for what will be staying with me for the next 6 months and another that will be packed into storage. The downstairs was easy. The real work came when I hit my closet upstairs. What shoes do I bring to Italy? What dresses for Dubai? Which handbags would pack well and how am I going to fit all of it in one bag for the train ride through Europe? But somehow it got done.

I had one night left before the chaos of a big move sets in. I knew exactly what I wanted to do. Eat, Pray and Love! Not really, but the movie had just opened over the weekend and there was one more person I didn't get a chance to see for the last time. My sweet cousin, Joy.

Joy and I don't see each other that much, but we have one common denominator that keeps us in each others rotation, our big Italian family. Both of our Mother's are half Italian and descend from a generation of 12 siblings. The matriarch from Calabria, Italy and the patriarch from Naples. Joy and I love Italy and are very proud of our heritage. It was only natural that on the eve of my move, we would get together one last time to catch the timely movie Eat, Pray, Love, share some vino and discuss the portion of the itinerary that includes Italy.

When I arrived, I see that she too brought me a gift. All natural caffeinated water for the long arduous drives through the midwest and a travel journal with a matching photo book. She says it's a "private" journal to keep to show my kids and grandkids. Inside the travel journal, a handwritten prayer. Again, so much thought and so unexpected, it brought me to tears.

I went to bed feeling appreciated, content, loved and excited for the future. I awoke to a different feeling.

The first thing I always do when I wake up is to turn on my phone, boot the computer and check Facebook. It's my equivalent to most people's newspaper and coffee. I was sadly delivered the news of Dr. Frank Ryan's death. I knew him very casually and only socially. It had been years since we crossed paths in person, but only a few weeks since we connected on Facebook. His last post before his fatal car crash told his followers of how after 25 years of looking at the sand dune in Malibu, he finally climbed to the top. He then posted a picture of his dog enjoying the view from above. Only moments after that post, he ran off the road and lost his life.

It's a reminder of life's brief passage. It can be taken from us in a flash and without discrimination.

Even though the movers came and occupied my mind briefly, my thoughts were distracted with images of Frank. I tried to wrap my head around it, but the shock still had its hold. He was a really nice guy.

There was one last visitor with one last gift. A longtime girlfriend who had been insistent on organizing my last going away night and insistent on stopping by to hand deliver a gift. Even with Obama in town and right in my neighborhood blocking all passage ways to me, she made every effort and finally made it in the knick of time. We've known each other for close to 14 years......and boy, do we have stories to tell! Her gift of a travel journal will be used in conjunction with Joy's gift. Together, I will collect mementos, pictures, clippings, postcards and menus of my favorite eateries to include in the journals.


Today was officially my last night in LA. By day's end, I was tired and hungry. I knew exactly what I wanted my last meal to be. I headed to my favorite restaurant for my favorite meal. A Lebanese salad, Kibbeh Nayeh with raw onions and cheese boreg at Alcazar. I ate as if I was going to the electric chair. There's not much about LA I wish I could take with me, but this restaurant.......I will miss!

As I savored my favorite meal and felt sorrow for the loss of Frank, I am reminded to enjoy each moment, appreciate your breath and thank God for the beauty around you. Do what you love and follow your bliss. You never know when it will be your last opportunity to do so.

Tomorrow will mark the first day for me following my bliss. I will keep with me on my journey the handwritten prayer given to me from my cousin Joy. Today it becomes not only a prayer for my journey abroad, but a prayer for remembering Frank:


Dear God,
Please help me be true to myself.
Remind me that you created me with a purpose in mind.
Help me to live up to what I'm supposed to be rather than what others want me to be.
Please give me the fortitude to stand up for my personal path and to follow it to success.
Let me see obstacles as opportunities.
Please guide me to making the most of my life.

Amen