The Juice is Not Worth the Squeeze

So I am currently in New York City, staying with my sister Cara and her roommate Chelsie.  Even though I am having a great time, I am having two major issues.  First, being in New York, I obviously am feeling a need to shop.  The problem is that I probably am not going to want to carry around a bunch of shopping bags full of clothes I won't be wearing while in Honduras, Nicaragua and Costa Rice.  Second, being in New York, I obviously feel a need to eat.  There is just so much good food here, and I want to sample it all.  And no, that it not an exaggeration.  I really want to eat just about everything in sight.  But I am going to have to be wearing a bikini a fair amount in the coming weeks and I'm not sure how comfortable I will be doing that after 5 pizzas and 20 rice puddings (which is what I really want to be eating).

Don't worry though.  While I haven't been shopping, I have still gotten to eat some delicious food because I have no willpower.  And am glad I have no willpower.  For dinner tonight we went to a falafel shop aptly named "The Best Falafel in New York."  We also went to a frozen yogurt shop where you serve yourself yogurt and toppings, as much as you want (and there were 16 yogurt flavors!) and then pay based on weight.  I think one of these needs to open up in Portland immediately.  I love paying by weight.  If I ever open a restaurant (like maybe Sushi Territory, the western-themed sushi and bbq conveyer belt restaurant), its going to be pay by weight.  Actually that might be hard for a conveyer belt place.  

I've also managed to make  new friend already!  He was my cab driver from the airport and is the philosopher who coined the title of this post.  He used to be in the construction business, running his own company, but he decided the money (juice) was not worth all the sacrifices he had to make to have that money (squeeze).  So now he drives a cab, goes to school and travels a lot.  We're going to be Myspace friends.  And he didn't try to charge me $20 over the flat rate from the airport, like the sketchy cab driver who had my bags in his trunk before I realized something was a little off about the situation.

Tomorrow I head to Vermont for Carrie's wedding.  I'm excited, despite the fact that I will know no one there except the bride.  And her parents.  Oh well, it'll be an adventure.