Yes, lobster rivals an outdoor movie screen

Guys, this is making it HARDER!!!

Anyone knows I love NYC/New England/DC/Boston.
But I am a SoCal wimp for good weather!
(Blame it on my parents!)

The following are ejemplos to explain further what I like to call 'my own great East/West Schism':

A new East Village NYC Lobster Roll shack (even bearing my nephew's name!) with proprietors from Cape Elizabeth, Maine- the original lobster roll place! (It's beautiful up there, ps...you eat your rolls overlooking their gooorgeous craggy shoreline.)

Bonus- they only use knuckle and claw- any lobster aficionado will tell you its the best part! (Missing good shellfish, and heck, ANY FRESH SEAFOOD, in the landlocked beef country that is Utah. Apparently I didn't overdose enough this summer...)

and

A Hollywood Hills home with disappearing edge pool AND outdoor screen. My only question is if you can watch movies in the pool...


More confusion, non-schism related:
I am still annoyingly congested and tired, despite pounding Sudafed's maximum suggested dosage for the past 5 days.
No cough, no fever and thus, no flu.
So that's good, right? Seeing as some silly boys in my complex have quarantined themselves in for the weekend with swine flu?
Yes?
Suggestions?

Untitled from the West

I miss one of my sisters so much right now, but the silver lining is that I can listen to all the Regina Spektor I want, unfettered from her annoyed pleas to "turn that woman off!"
(Listen now: 'Dance Anthem of the 80s')


Google Reader- I don't even want to start with you...you are intimidating and anxiety inducing. 'Telle, consider this a plea for help.

The House at Sugar Beach- everyone must read NOW.

Post forthcoming, I can't say when...my thoughts are slurring together right now...


why am I blogging? Oh yeah, my new credo to be a more "in the moment" blogger...and life liver.

That is all.

kisses and hugs,
Al

My East/West Schism

Item 1:
I'm back from Boston...the grungy couch surfing caught up to me and now I'm sick. But it was worth it, even if now my throat makes me sound like I licked an ashtray with that raspy Maggie Gyllenhaal crinkle as if I were to order a bagel "light on tha schmea!"

Oh, now I'm thinking about lox and that makes me sad.

I promise I didn't get my cold from some East Coast prepster (how I fancy them so).
Though I swear I saw more attractive men, shirts tucked in (aww!) with that perfect balance of equal parts European sophistication and American pragmatism than I've seen in my 4 years in Provo.
Seriously.

Item 2:
So I came across Will's blog and remembered why I adore him...
If I lived in NYC, I would want him to be my Stanford Blatch wingman.

Item 3:
This 9-year old could teach wonders to Cougarfolk.

Item 4:
I confess: so maybe I AM really just skin deep sometimes...
Por ejemplo, the fact that I watched all 10 current episodes of The City within 24 hours. (Hey, commercial free, on MTV's web site: if I planned my days around being home to watch it I would be more worried).
Of all the things that are so mind-boggling unrealistic about the show, the only pervasive thought that keeps coming to mind is their FLAWLESS SKIN (and the fact that NY looks sparkling clean). I understand that they are wearing pounds of makeup but seriously, nobody in New York has peachy blemish-free skin like that.
Everyone knows as soon as you get to the city from somewhere else, you get a fresh crop of city blemishes that don't go away until you leave again.
And I'm convinced that Olivia is not really from the city. Because any true NY'er (let alone someone who's allegedly born and bred) would be downright embarrassed to be on any TV show about it.
So yeah, amongst all the sweeping shots of the Manhattan skyline and nostalgic building/restaurant spotting, all I can really do in the middle of the show is ogle at their clear skin.

Item 5:
I'm training for a half-marathon in early May. And I am notorious for hating running. Should be interesting.

Item 6: Another story to humor you, this just came to me: I will never forget the time I was sitting around Madrid's Puerta del Sol and my friend Sarah was around (I don't know, bumping and grinding or just being her Mexican self)...but for some reason I was alone for a couple minutes....it was 2 AM, the height of a Spanish day, and three Madrilenos come over start talking to me, preguntandome, and their THIRD QUESTION, I KID YOU NOT, was: "What religion are you?"
I thought I might die of hilarity.
If Spaniards struck my fancy, I would have considered them attractive...but they were strangely fixated on talking religion, and because I could not communicate what dear Thomas says below, not to mention that true God-loving Mormons love everyone despite their flaws (novel concept) I was way over it, and since Sarah didn't learn any Spanish in Spain, we had to bail.

We could have partied until noon at Kapital and had an amazing time.
But ah, lo siento, mi amigos, no great story to tell of that.