Here’s to the Ladies who Lunch

I spent a week in Whittier–my hometown.  That’s a good deal of time to revisit one’s ghosts. It was fraught with hanging out with my beloved grandmother who has taken to throwing out heirlooms and photographs. So it was great to take a little time out on Saturday and hang out with other bloggers at the Costero Bistro + Bar for a luncheon.

It’s a great thing to get together with fellow bloggers because blogging can be a bit of a lonely vacuum–which is the kind of thing we discussed. What’s been our highs and lows, etc.

I know what mine have been. My biggest high was the response to my Just. One. Book. post. My low was an old professor saying I’m too talented to be low-brow (I think he was referring to dark fiction/zines/and horror films). HA. It’s not always easy doing things your own way in your own time. I probably don’t publish as much as I should when I should, but I usually hope whatever it is I’ve got to say is worth saying. I spend time on my observations and my reviews. I know a blogger/writer who takes pride in making 10 pitches a day, pens innocuous prose (she gets paid though) and writes from the top of her head without research–or much dignity for that matter.

I’m old-fashioned sometimes. I prefer articles and journals with content over a few paragraphs and a photo. So it’s a hard business for me, but nevertheless I enjoy doing it when I do it.

So hanging with 7 fellow bloggers (bloggesses?) was absolutely fun and relaxing and a good balance to life in front of a screen. To top it off–the food was amazing. (I live in the mountains, you know where good food either happens at home or not at all).

The fun thing about being around bloggers for lunch? Everyone photographs their food. I’m not a photographer, mind you, but here are mine.   First wine in awhile. I love wine in the afternoon.

Crabcakes!Brussel sprouts (I’m usually skeptical but these were really good).

That’s a very yummy salmon in a mango sauce with radish.

 and finally a Brudino? Never had one of these before. There’s caramel and sea salt. There’s something about that combination that just has me swooning.

I gave up bread and cheese for Lent because I have a serious addiction to both. So it was nothing but pleasure to eat so well without breaking the Lenten promises.

This was an LA Blogger Luncheon and man, there’s some smart women blogging from Los Angeles. I haven’t had lunch with two med students at once in a long time. Or hung out with a blogger from my home town. Or one who focuses on horses in Los Angeles. Or travel and food. Or natural hair and beauty and wigs. It made me think of what mine is focused on.

I’m focused on Throwing Chanclas just like all Latina moms. Bringing down what needs to be brought down. Relaxing after a hard day of mothering. Having a special appreciation for all things shoe and sandal related. And keeping myself up to my own standard.

So I thank my fellow LA Bloggers (even though I’m an LA Blogger in exile) for a lovely afternoon of lovely conversation that helped boost my moral in the solitary world of blogging. I thank Costero for a fabulous meal.

I thank my grandmother for not giving me too much fuss for stealing 500 some odd photos before she accidentally on purpose throws them away.

 

 

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4 Replies to “Here’s to the Ladies who Lunch”

  1. I love your stuff–I generally don’t follow blogs, but caught yours on the Just. One. Book. thing, and have not left you, because, well, I think we are grieving and resisting together. You are really pretty inspiring. A friend of mine remarked a few months ago that the last thing that happens is what colors one’s whole day. She put it: “the early part of the day can be rainbows and unicorns, but if you rip your jeans at 4:00, then the whole day was crappy.” She was making the observation in relation to her kids–but I think it is true for everyone. And what a great line–rainbows and unicorns until you rip your jeans. Credit Amy Jones with that one. Reading your stuff is the rainbow/unicorn part of my day these days. Thank you. Don’t let that prof be the ripped jeans part of yours.

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