New Place

Well, I'm home. And I moved into my new apartment at The Riv. And I a very cool roommate and a nice view out my bedroom window.

Sounds like a dream, right?
It is.

More on this next step in my life later, since right now I have to finish unpacking.

Lunch Hour

I walk out of the building I work in, and I pass a cluster of huddled lawyers and corporate executives who all work in the same building as I do. I pretend that they all work for me, and that they stop their conversation to ask me how I am doing and if I would like to join them for lunch. I pretend that I say no thank you, but that I would, however, love to join them on Thursday, right after I close the Bonacue deal. I walk past them and pretend that I have a car today, but that I have decided to walk to lunch instead so that I can help stop global warming. I then walk two blocks down the road and am forced to make a decision: I pretend that I am forced to decide between the best Chinese restaurant in Los Angeles and a five-star French cafe where I have twelve waiters to wait on me and they serve ridiculously small food portions. I choose the cafe, since there are two beautiful blondes sitting at one of the tables outside. I have the mind of a sixteen-year old, I realize. I walk into the cafe, and a man stands at the register to ring up my order. He has a slight french accent, and I pretend that he is a top-rated chef, and that there are five other chefs behind the counter who are all waiting for me to decide so that they can begin preparing whatever I wish to eat that day. I ask the man which panini is the best. He recommends none of them specifically, saying that they are all very tasty and filling. I order the fresh tomato and mozzerella with spinach, since I told my father I would eat healthier, and then I add a dollar to the tip jar and pretend that I make millions and can tip people with hundred dollar bills instead of singles. I walk outside to my table, which is next to the beautiful blond women, and I pretend that they are talking about me. Almost immediately as I pretend this, they get up and leave, probably late to return to their shifts at the beauty salon a few doors down. Left alone, I decide to text my sister about the photos she requested from me. I pull out my phone and pretend it is an iPhone, and that it can do anything and everything I could ever possibly imagine - ever. "There's an app for that," I say to myself as I think about the idea of my phone being able to transcribe my thoughts into a text message. I reason that communication will be much quicker and more efficient when that becomes reality. The cashier comes outside and lays down my food in front of me. I pretend that he is honored to serve me. I take a bite, and then think about the idea of being famous. I pretend that everyone who passes me is gawking at me and taking my photo with their camera-phones, and that people in their cars are rubbernecking to see what I ordered and why I decided to eat at such a crummy, overpriced street cafe when I could have had the best Chinese food in Los Angeles just down the road. I eat slowly, pretending that the panini I am eating is actually warm, and that the water I am drinking is Fuji instead of tap. As I chew my food, I pretend that I am realizing the way to finally cure cancer, and that the world will soon have the pills dispersed to everyone who stands in need. I pretend that curing cancer is as simple as taking some pill, and that the pill's dispersion to the world is a simple matter of paying the overnight shipping charges to Fed-Ex. The cashier comes outside to wipe another table and asks how everything is tasting. "Fine," I say, adding that the panini is one of the best I've had. I pretend that statement implies that I've actually been to France, and that this panini beats even the real French paninis I had while I studied there for a year. I finish my food and get up to leave. As I walk away, I turn back to read the sidewalk sign the cafe has stood up to show visitors they are open for lunch. "Câfe Desuigne," it reads. I pretend that I can actually pronounce that correctly. Then I pretend, once again, that I am famous, and that I have just signed a photograph of myself for the cafe owner, and that the he is hanging it up hurriedly so that his other customers will be able to see that, believe it or not, Andrew Stratford just walked in and ordered a fresh tomato, mozerella, and spinach panini from his restaurant. I pretend that he renamed that panini as the Stratford Panini, and that it is the newest addition to his menu.

"Stratford Panini - $12.99."

And then I pretend that it is the most-often ordered dish on the menu, because everyone enjoys its clever combination of ingredients so much. As I continue down the sidewalk, I smile to myself because I haven't had this good of a lunch hour in what feels like a very long time.

A Very Difficult Post To Write

Public Announcement:

I am going back to BYU.

After Christmas.

(Merry Christmas.)

I'm not too excited about it, I must say. I mean, school is cool (rhyme!), but Utah isn't all that cool. Well, that's not entirely true. And after living in a place where "Utah Mormons" are made fun of left and right (something I completely disagree with) I am actually more prone to defend Utah than hate on it. But, let's face it. I just spent six months in Los Angeles. Some people would give their left arm to have the experience that I've had. Nevertheless, I need to finish school. And I've already done a year and a half at BYU, so why not finish it at BYU? They even gave me a scholarship to come back.

LIST OF THINGS I'LL MISS FROM LOS ANGELES:

- my dad and his girlfriend, Jill, and her son, Gabe, and all of their family (I'm trying hard to not think about actually having to leave these people, so please don't remind me)
- my job, which includes my boss, Jeff, and my co-worker, Christian, who was completely devastated when I told him my plans
- the Los Angeles LDS temple, which is the most beautiful temple in the world (fact, not opinion)
- the sushi, of which I cannot eat enough
- the street names, which add a lot more personality to a place than you would believe
- the diversity, which is amazing there
- the beach, which I didn't go to enough
- the Los Angeles 1st YSA Ward, which consisted of some of the nicest people I've ever met in my entire life
- the crazy housekeeper, whom I will only miss sort of, and if you knew her you would know why

But let's not get too sentimental, now...

LIST OF THINGS I'M (TRYING) TO LOOK FORWARD TO IN UTAH

- school at BYU
- friends at BYU
- the (uncomfortable and overwhelming) number of people who have the same religious beliefs as I do
- the fact that I will probably never have to pay for parking while in Provo
- the fact that movies cost less than ten bucks
- the large amount of other family that I have here
- the singles ward that I'm not yet in
- the super amazing view of the mountains

Okay, that attempt at optimism didn't really work for me. This is, actually, a very hard post for me to write, because for some strange reason putting it on my blog makes it more real and immediate than ever before. I guess I'll just have to look forward to the day when, after about two and a half years of schooling, and a church mission somewhere in there, I finally get to return home.

And that will be a great day.

Leaving Utah

In case you didn't know it already...

I used to live here:

But now I live here:

However, for the past few days I have been back in Utah visiting family and such. But tomorrow this blessed vacation ends. Tomorrow at exactly 1:50pm I leave to go back to Los Angeles.

*tear shed*

Small list of things I hate to leave behind in Utah:

the family
the mountains
the dog (Tobias)
the BYU
the friends at BYU
the snow (only a little bit) (and only whenever it comes) (it is, after all, very unpredictable)
the mom's cooking
the freeways without traffic

But it will be nice to be back to see some of things I have really missed the last few days!

Small list of things that beckon me back to L.A.:

the weather
the job
the beach
the dad
the dad's girlfriend
the dad's girlfriend's son
the dad's girlfriend's son's dogs

But don't cry! I'll come back! I'll come baaaaaaaack... [fades out].

Vacations Vacations Vacations!

My fellow Americans:

I just got back from a week-long trip to (basically-speaking) Yellowstone and Jackson Hole. All in all it was a very good trip!

I saw:

Lots of buffalo. Lots of elk. Lots of my two sisters laughing. And Lots of my two step-brothers teasing.

(And lots of kissing from my brother Tim and his fiancee, Dani).

Lots of river rapids. Lots of geysers. Lots of card games. And lots of stereotypical Japanese tourists.

(Is 'lots' a real word?)

Unfortunately -- and I mean very unfortunately -- I left my camera in the rental car before I left to board my flight at the Salt Lake International Airport. That's a major bummer, not just because it was a good camera, but also because it had half of the millions of photos I took on this trip (the other half already having been downloaded onto my dad's laptop, thank goodness!).

But don't cry. The car company says that this happens at least ten times a day in their business, and that they can ship it back to me on Monday.

So.... Pictures soon! For now, let this generic picture I found on Google Image Search of one of the waterfalls in Yellowstone sort of leave you wanting more:

Viva España

Amigos queridos,

I am going to move to Spain.

Esta es la verdad.

I shall live on the Spanish beach

And drink a Spanish drink

With a Spanish sombrilla hanging out of it

And I shall write a Spanish book

About la gente Espanola

And I shall write it in Spanish.

Not English.

But what is that? What is that which the people will say to me?

"Por que, Andres? Por que te mudas a España?"

And to that I shall answer with some beautiful Madrileña name,

"Esperanza, mis amigos. Para buscar a mi amor que se llamará Esperanza."

And then I will look into the distance, and in great apostrophe I shall sing to my beautiful amor who will be named Esperanza la letra of a song I once heard a long, long time ago...

Y La noche va,

Dejándonos solos
Y cada mitad se acerca a su modo
Y dicen las calles, de tu Barcelona
Que la Noche es nuestra
Que la Nit es nostra

La vieja Ciudad, Vestida de luces
De espuma de mar, De amores y cruces
Y yo solo pido que nunca amanezca,
Que la noche es nuestra,
Que la nit es nostra
Que la Nit es nostra

And the people will say to me,

"Wow, Andres. What beatiful Spanish! Where did you ever learn to speak such beautiful Spanish letra?"

And I will say to them,

"En una cancion, mis amigos. En una cancion."

And they will be left in such incredible awe at this statement, with the lyrics to such a beautiful canción resonating throughout their heads, and they will no longer want to speak.

And then I will move to Spain.

Adios.