Tattered Cover Book Store

Before I ever stepped foot inside Colorado, I was in awe of it ... because it has just about every West Coast fast food chain I would ever want to eat at, but is not actually on the West Coast. It's got Wahoo's Fish Tacos (despite not being remotely close to a body of water), it's got Carl's Jr., it's even got Ruby's Diner.

And then after college, when I was still uber ambitious about my continual learning, I spent a month or two reading all the Jack Kerouac I could get my hands on. He makes Denver sound like an absolute paradise.

I visited Colorado for the first and only time during a road trip covering six states in the summer of 2009. We flew into Denver and drove through South Dakota and Wyoming from there, so I didn't really get to spend much time in Denver or Colorado, even.

Denver strikes me as a very outdoorsy, athletic city. There were some serious mountain bikers at Confluence Park; I almost got run over a few times (sorry, city girl ... don't really know the rules of bike riding and such). We also took the trolley down to the Capitol building, where there was a fair going on and we got tons of samples of granola goodies.

I did, however, have one of the best brunch meals ever at The Corner Office at the Curtis Hotel (1401 Curtis Street). I'd read about it somewhere or another and made a point of stopping there for the strawberry cheesecake waffles (with graham cracker maple syrup). The other dish we had, which no longer seems to be on the menu, was also delicious beyond belief. The best breakfast potatoes I've probably ever had in my life.

As we crossed the Colorado-Utah border I saw God in the sky in the form of huge gold sunburning clouds above the desert that seemed to point a finger at me and say, "Pass here and go on, you're on the road to heaven."

 - Jack Kerouac 

Laguna Beach

California

I went for the first time when I was 5, to the Bay Area. I remember it being cold in the mornings and hot in the afternoons. I went again when I was 19, back to the Bay Area, and then on a mini-road trip down to Los Angeles with a friend from college. Our first stop when we made it to the area was Bob's Big Boy in Toluca Lake, where the burger was the best I'd had up until that point. I walked the streets with stars in my eyes -- aside from downtown Hollywood, I thought Los Angeles was just magical.

And then I returned the following spring and my mom and I drove through the beach cities (Newport, Laguna) down to San Diego, where I had my one and only surfing experience. I stood up on my very first wave and couldn't stand up again. It was exhausting. I became addicted to fish tacos and banana milkshakes.

And of course, after college, I tried to "make it" in Los Angeles. I was there for nearly a month, lived on Venice Beach among hippies and possible drug addicts. It was scary, amazing, boring, beautiful, sunny ... but then I started running low on money and came home. I haven't been back since, but I definitely plan on it.

I'm missing most of my photographs of Los Angeles and Venice, but here are some others, from the trips I took in college ...

When I was 16, I was the Secretary or Vice President of The Culture Club at my high school. The fact that I can't remember what position I held says everything about my devotion to this club. The '80s were making a trendy comeback, at least among teens, and my friends claimed they were '80s enthusiasts and talked me into joining them in creating a club. (I believe the words "it'll look good for college" were thrown around.)

I felt like a complete fraud, because in comparison to my friends and the few people who came around to share in this likely fabricated appreciation for the '80s, the '80s to me meant sleazy saxophones, Molly Ringwald, glowy music videos and pre-English accented Madonna. At the time, I thought the only truly good things to come out of the '80s were Nick Carter (born 1980), me and my friends (born 1984-1987), and the movie "For Keeps" (1988, and still one of my favorite movies). The Culture Club met probably only a handful of times, and the only meeting I really remember was the viewing of a Molly Ringwald movie (again, can't remember which).

Anyway, this is just a long-winded way to say that I probably had very little business reading Rob Sheffield's memoir-ish book "Talking to Girls About Duran Duran," set mostly in 1980s Boston. I'll be very honest: I first picked up the book (while killing time at Barnes & Noble at the Prudential Center in Boston, very fitting) because I had read online reviews and my curiosity had been piqued; I picked up the book the second time because I knew he had a chapter devoted to "Hangin' Tough" by the New Kids On The Block.

Really, the chapter is about his little sister Caroline, who was obsessed with the New Kids when they were still just local celebrities. If you too are a New Kids fan and as confused as I am by what exactly New Wave entails, I'll save you the trouble of reading the book (by no means a terrible read): Caroline and her friends stalked the New Kids in 1988, sometimes in conspicuous flocks. One of Caroline's friends' friends (' friends?) sees one of the New Kids buying condoms at Osco Drug. And that's about it.

The memoir is charming -- basically a collection of anecdotes told through the veil of song. My problem with this is that on the whole, it doesn't make for a particularly coherent read. At times, Sheffield hardly even tries to weave the song the chapter is dedicated to into the story that he alleges is linked in some way to the song. He name-drops people from his past, but forgets that after 12 chapters, the casual reader can no longer remember who "Ally" is.

The concept of the memoir is great, and the writing is funny and heartfelt, but it's inconsistent. It starts out strong but "the point" of each anecdote grows weaker and weaker as the memoir goes on. But his enthusiasm for music, good and bad, is made clear as day. Not bad for a Rolling Stone contributing editor, but he could do much better. I suspect his first memoir "Love Is A Mix Tape: Life and Loss, One Song At A Time" is exactly that.

We're a few weeks into the fall television season and I've pretty much dropped all the shows I thought I'd be watching and instead, I'm watching shows I hadn't even heard of. Like "Happy Endings."

Unbeknownst (or mostly just completely forgotten) to me, I'd seen an episode of "Happy Endings" last season, its first. And when I was watching the pilot of "New Girl," I actually thought it was reminiscent of another show I had seen before, but couldn't place. "Happy Endings" is that show.

(Not to mention that there has been some major cast member sharing between the two shows ... Damon Wayans Jr. was one of the roommates in the pilot episode of "New Girl" and a main cast member of "Happy Endings" while the actor who plays one of the main roommates in "New Girl," Max Greenfield, guest-starred as the romantic interest of one of the main "Happy Endings" characters. Phew.)

The premise isn't exactly the same, but it's about a group of 3 girls and 3 guys who have bonded through either old fashioned friendship, romance or, in one case, shared genes. They live in Chicago and they seem to be in their late 20s and early 30s.

source: FOX.com

"New Girl" centers around Jess, who is a cutesy, kitschy girl with pretty much zero social awareness. She's just been dumped by her boyfriend, so she's moved in with 3 guys who try -- pretty aimlessly -- to "fix" her. Naturally, in the process of trying to "fix" Jess, Jess unloads heartwarming lessons on them through her grandma sweater-ed ways.

I'm ready to give up on "New Girl" while I'm almost all caught up on all that I missed last season on "Happy Endings." "New Girl" is 3 episodes in and I just can't see where it's all going ... or rather, that it's going. There's no story, there's just Zooey Deschanel and her cutesy ways, which will inevitably get old ... which, in fact, has already gotten old. How many more awkward dances can she do, how many more social cues can she miss before it's just not funny anymore? Even Zooey Deschanel can't pull Jess off.

source: ABC.com

"Happy Endings" has the advantage of no singular focus ... and much better writing. I think I love each and every one of the characters already, even Max (Adam Pally), the self-absorbed non-gay gay guy and uptight Jane (Eliza Coupe). The dynamics between the characters are so natural that it's hard to believe the cast didn't actually grow up together. It's lighthearted comedy that I don't feel is a chore to sit down to every Wednesday night, and the type I can't bear to stay away from for too long. In a way, it reminds me of an old favorite show of mine, "My Boys," which told the story of tomboy P.J. and her relationship with her 4 close guy friends.

Though "New Girl" strives to set itself apart with its quirkiness and awkward central character, I think it could stand to take a few tips from "Happy Endings" and "My Boys," which feature funny but strong female characters who aren't emotionally feeble or constantly needing to be "saved" by their male counterparts. "New Girl" is heavy-handed in its pro-individualism, but at the end of the day, it just comes across like an after school special.

I stumbled across this cool photographic tribute to America on Zara.com and I thought it would be fitting with my upcoming departure from the U.S. to post what photos and memories I have from my travels through the states ...

Manana, AZ June 2007

Arizona

I think of Arizona each March, when I'm in the depths of cabin fever. I think of tumbleweeds and rainbow-colored sunsets, long and straight roads and a dry heat.

It was at the Grand Canyon I saw the clearest night sky, dotted with diamonds small and smaller. It was the most breathtaking thing I'd seen, and I promised I'd be back.

In 2007, I drove through and tried to capture the eerie twilight hour, though I wasn't too successful.

Since I first visited in 2000 or so, I've thought there was something very romantic about Arizona in its smoldering heat and earthiness. There is something about the Southwest that makes me feel closer to the earth and nature in an almost sensual way.

I remember prickly pear cactus, pink sand, startling landscapes, deep ravines, sherbet striations in rock, slow-moving dust storms ...

I definitely want to go back ... I've only seen Phoenix from the freeway, Tucson briefly, Scottsdale never.

I started on my "Before I go" restaurant list last Friday night when I visited Kingswood. Only once I stepped into the space, I realized I'd been there before. D'oh. I went with my co-workers in early 2008, not long after the restaurant had opened. Apparently the food hadn't been particularly memorable, because the only thing I remember is my department VP getting drunk on too much red wine and the awkward taxi ride I took alone with her afterwards.

Kingswood is labeled as an Australian and Gastropub kind of restaurant. To me, it's modern, eclectic and trendy in a rustic way. A bar separates the entrance area from the dining area -- this bar is open and looks nearly identical to a nice, country-style kitchen island. We arrived at the restaurant soon after opening, so the place was fairly empty and reservations not necessary, but on both of my visits, I found that the young and trendy like to assemble and overcrowd this bar area later on in the night.

My dining companion and I both pretty much wanted the same thing, so we shared our orders of the Ruby's Bronte burger and roasted Cornish hen (though I secretly wanted to try the Goan curry with market fish).


Kingswood is (or was) owned by the same people behind Ruby's and Tsubi, both Australian emblems here in New York City. The Ruby's Bronte burger was probably named after Ruby's, the Australian restaurant. The burger ($16) came dressed with cheddar and a sweet chili sauce that made the burger. The fries were absolutely delicious, with a side of truffle mayo -- and I don't even like mayo. The entire dish was well done and very satisfying.