I’ve just arrived in Los Angeles. Contrary to popular belief, the immigration folks did NOT hassle us at all. In fact, the woman was extremely nice and spoke to my mother about how she was meant to be a doctor but turned out to be an immigration officer instead, citing that she did not want to see sick people for a living. We took a shared shuttle bus to the motel and lugged all 4 of my bags to the room. Thank goodness my mother and I lift weights regularly, hah! Ma and I went to eat at a diner’s called Twain’s next to the motel; I had an insanely huge Mushroom and Swiss burger with fries (with potato skins! The best!) and an iced tea (can’t fight teh o ais). This motel is not unlike those in the movies: dingy and dank with a hint of a strange chemical scent. Needless to say, my mother, who is accustomed to 5 star accommodation, beachside spa massages and porters, flipped and started panicking for about 5 minutes before she gave up and decided that this place is actually decent. There is an outdoor pool that is opened from 9AM to 9PM. I don’t feel like much of a stranger here though. In fact, it feels as though I’ve been here all my life. I think I watch way too much American TV and read too many books by American authors. I can’t believe I’m here though; I’m so excited! I feel like a little girl in pigtails waiting to go to school on her first day - except that I never had pigtails and I cried like a bitch on my first day at school. And most of all, I’m glad to finally be in the same continent as him. I am now 8700 miles from home and 3000 miles away from Boston. The world is small.
Tomorrow, I shall walk down Ventura Blvd to find Pinkberry for breakfast. Me and frozen yogurt have been apart for way too long.
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