I am sorry for my unexplained absence, planes, trains and jalopies whisked me off to faraway destinations like Los Angeles and Atlanta over the past week and change. In Los Angeles I ate extremely well (Gjellina, anyone?) and furthered my career while spending time with people who know very little about the intricacies of working in the food space. It was refreshing, filling, and resulted in the purchase of a new dress. In Atlanta I ate beige conference food and nearly decided to end my career as a food blogger after spending time with people who think they know very much about the intricacies of working in the food space. It was vapid, draining, and resulted in the purchase of a one-way Marta ticket out of town.
Don’t get me wrong, Atlanta charmed my daisy dukes off. A city full of sticky heat, impeccably-dressed women and many, many gay men is a place after my own heart. An urban belle insisted there was no way I was from Seattle as she took in my fuchsia confectionary attire replete with matching shoes. Then she leaned in further and exclaimed “Oh yes, I see it! You are from Seattle- you are wearing way too little makeup.” I can only imagine how crazy a girl like me could be in a city as decadent as Atlanta. Also, I am proud to say I resisted the urge to call it “Hotlanta” throughout the duration of my visit, but it was very, very hard. I do hope the locals have a drinking game in place wherein every time a tourist says “Hotlanta” they ring a cowbell and force a Zima down the tourist’s gullet. Read more