Tuesday, June 17

New Orleans: The Eat-cation

This past week I earned a very coveted foodie badge:  
Eating (and drinking) my way through New Orleans! 

I know you are jealous.. and you should be.  My long weekend of indulging in beignets and po'boys was one for the books.  But since I'm trying to build my karma tank, I have decided to share my eating itinerary with you.... so you too can have the best eat-cation of your life.

Places you MUST visit, and what you MUST order:

  Perfect.  There is no other word to describe it.  The atmosphere, the live music, the food, the service, the location. I could never imagine visiting New Orleans without making a trip to Commander's Palace.  I would go so far to say that I would make a special trip to Louisiana JUST to visit

Monday, June 16

20 Signs you are Closer to THIRTY than to TWENTY

20 Signs You are Closer to THIRTY than TWENTY:

1. You have a nearly obsessive nostalgia for everything ‘nineties’. 

2. You average 6 weddings a year.

3. After partying sounds fun… but your pillow sounds SO much better.  Actually your pillow sounds so much better than the regular party too.  I mean, getting ready is just such a process, and you’ve got a lot of Netflix to catch up on.

4. You’ve taken a bubble bath in the past 6 months.

5. You’re smiling just thinking about a bath with a glass of wine, candles, a good book and chocolate.  Oh, the chocolate.  Didn’t you used to hate dark chocolate?  What happened?

6. You’re becoming more Republican.  Still liberal thinking, but the government is really much too involved in cutting your paychecks in half.

STAGECOACH: What to expect

Coming off an epic weekend at Coachella, I had sworn myself to couch potatoism for at least the next month in hopes of partial mental and physical recuperation. 

A mere 2 weeks later and I felt ready to emerge, agreeing to attend an engagement party in Newport.  It would be a mellow adult night of wine and fake laughter that I was genuinely looking forward to.  As I carefully applied lipstick in the bathroom mirror, I overheard two distinct words that stopped me in my glossing: “Stagecoach” & “tickets.”

I arose from my closet with such a clatter (too early for Christmas references? Bummer.) and stormed into the bedroom to confront my boyfriend, Matt.  I caught enough of the conversation to know I was included and seconds later I had traded my skirt for cut offs and my heels for boots.  Yee-Haw!

And so a weekend equal to Coachella only in epic-ness and location began.  And this is what I learned:

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