park

i think the perpetual sunshine here in southern california has marred our already balmy brains.

last week, we had a slight change in weather, known to the rest of the country as this thing called “winter,” and us angelenos responded with a chicken-little like panic, waving our mittened hands in the air, yelping out “it’s in the 60’s! it’s in the 60’s! it’s in the 60’s.”

i heard fema had to come in with disaster relief; mainly in the form of cashmere pashminas, ugg boots, and caramel salted lattés.

 meanwhile this weekend, in utah, where i was playing my most mannerly “bosses wife” part, it was a toasty 13 degrees.

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camel coats and long-johns were de rigueur.

boot

and i was faced with the hard, cold truth, that as much as i love my riding boots, they’re not snow boots;

nor are they really for riding either….

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pomegranate bellinis coaxed out the merry in my frost-bitten, bah-humbug soul.

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and we of course made a stop to atticus’ book shop in park city; my only must-see of the granite state.

old, new, and rare, atticus stocks books that get you to linger for hours.

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and they’re vast and creative espresso bar, think red velvet lattĂ©s + cookies and cream mochas, also lends to dawdling amongst shelves lined with limited edition david foster wallace and vintage cooking books.

{btw did you see jason segel will portral DFW in the upcoming film, the end of tour, a biopic chronicling DFW’s book tour for infinite jest.}

bath

i spent more time in the tub than i did exploring our funky hotel.

this was the only spot where i wasn’t freezing my woolen socks off; in fact i tried to get hunkiest’s christmas party moved to our bathroom so i could stay warm and still participate in the merriment, but he wasn’t having it.

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why so fancy you ask?

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some people dress up for parties, some dress up for the theater, i dress up for cheese plates.

this showpiece of stinky, artisanal happiness rocked my salt lake city world!

pago, a farm-to fresh, local+ sustainable sourced restaurant, located in a dreamy, early 20th century, brick building, delivered a rapturous, hands up in the air-inducing cheese plate. with one yummy combo bite of beehive’s salty promontory, a smidge of fresh blackberry jam, and topped with their homemade walnut/mustard sweet compote, i was ready to myself to the nearest mormon temple for utah conversion.

and as much as i complained about utah’s arctic weather, this 80 degree-plus hoo-haa we’ve got going on right now in southern california is a bit ridiculous…much like us californians…