An Abundance Of Deliciousness And Other First World Problems.
I never thought I’d say this, but for a very brief and recent period of my life, I was actually getting a little tired of eating out. Read the rest of this gem…
Because Calories Don’t Count When They’re Consumed In The Dark.
I don’t know if you remember, but back when I turned 30 (whaaaat? I have to say “back when” now?), I went to the Florida Keys. Read the rest of this gem…
Williamsburg Tastes Nothing Like Chicken. And That’s A Good Thing.
Oy.
Lately I feel like this blog has become nothing but a representation of the gluttonous feast that has become my life. Read the rest of this gem…
Livin’ Large – Stretchy Pants Large – At The Raleigh Food Truck Rodeo.
Q: What do you get when you combine a military re-enlistment ceremony with a thirty-first birthday celebration with a visit from the in-laws with a pending house sale with an imminent do-it-yourself move? Read the rest of this gem…
Butter.
Yesterday was one of those rainy, icky days during which my motivation level seems to directly correlate with the amount of the sun’s rays that reach the surface of the earth in my locale — which, incidentally, was approximately zero.
Zero percent. Read the rest of this gem…
I Don’t Know How You Do The Voodoo That You Do So Well.
Name that song.
I went through a fairly significant hard rock phase during my teenage years — the music, not the restaurant. (Though what child of the 80’s didn’t own a Hard Rock Cafe t-shirt sometime during the 90’s?) Read the rest of this gem…
Foodie Tour Of Chicago’s Chinatown And Probably Why My Pants Don’t Fit.
*This post is long. But read to the end — there’s a little sumpin’ sumpin’ in it for you.
I realize I haven’t finished working my way through the highlights of our west coast trip yet, but I don’t know — it’s starting to feel like I’ve invited you to a cocktail party where you thought we might all get plastered and start playing truth or dare at the very worst, but instead I forced you to sit on the sofa and watch slide shows of family vacations. Read the rest of this gem…
When You’re Tired, You Take A Napa – You Don’t Move To Napa.
Name that show.
Okay, look.
There was a time, in the not-so-distant past, when hostels with shared dorm rooms, clothes stuffed into compartmentalized backpacks, cold showers, frizzy hair, and strangers serenading rooms with acoustic guitar and raspy voices was my idea of a dream vacation. Read the rest of this gem…
Welcome To Hollywood! What’s Your Dream?
Name that movie.
For those of you who may not know, I’m in the midst of moving my little sister — Read the rest of this gem…
Art Galleries, Sterling Silver, And Hot Dogs. Basically My Travel Trifecta.
*UPDATE* Apparently WordPress decided to uncheck my “allow comments” box on this post, which would explain why there are actually no comments when I thought everyone just hated me. Dang. All fixed. And thanks Shelly for pointing it out to me on Facebook!
Okay.
So you all know I have this unhealthy (to say the least) hankering for hot dogs. Read the rest of this gem…