Glimpses of the southern soiree

in Atlanta are forthcoming, slow-paced as they might be, for I shall be immersed in a venture that shall be usurping the majority of my time and energy. Stay tuned, cheery chums!

I've an insatiable appetite

for turf teeming with time-honored treasures, as evidenced by last week's flea market flit-by per usual below.'Tis a sordid shame the homey home cannot sustainthese vintage knick knacks in their entiretyalthough I shall candidly confessthat a premeditated meander to the flea marketne'er leaves me empty-handed.Cheers to a bloated apartmento and a bargain-exhausted coin purse.I've an inkling I might've forayed some vintage curios replete with Southern charm in gorgeous Georgia by now. Happy Friday, cheery chums. Stay tuned for next week's artillery of posts on Atlanta!

Travelogue Thursdays: the Texan staple

Goode Co., Houston, Texas, USA in April 2009.What could be more Texan than a heaping helpin' of Texas-made barbeque? So heavy (so I only had a smidgen), yet mighty tasty and smokey savory is this Southern staple, specifically when complemented with humongous outdoor rough-hewn patio seating and blaring Southern Dixie tunes. I hope I'll have sampled palatable Atlantan-idiosyncratic Southern fare by now!

Congradulatory

whimsies, all wrapped, bundled, and spiffified to be bestowed.Oh, how I fancy perky packaging with time-honored prints and textures aplenty!

Meandering

patches of unbashed wilderness is a traipse-worthy trip, particularly whence 'tis of the glee-inducting impromptu variety.
Here's to hoping I'll be chancing upon wondrous pockets of uncultivated magnificence in Atlanta by now!

Shimmying down south

to the luscious land of prolific peach trees today!
Life has been a frazzling flurry of late, and it'll only intensify tenfold upon my return to La La Land. Here's to hoping a week of slower-paced old-fashioned Southern charm shall serve my sanity well. If you've any spiffy recommendations for must-sees and dos in Atlanta, do disclose - I'd be delighted to know! As I unabashedly adopt the Atlantan attitude for the following days, stay tuned for habitual near-daily posts!

I'm Irresistibly inclined

towards composing whimsy-emanating baked goodie pouches and accompanying par avion letters -fitting farewell mementos, methinks. Happy Friday, genial gents and gals!

Travelogue Thursdays: that was Nice

Nice, French Riviera, France in July 2008.
All I gathered by word of mouth was that Nice is a too-pricey-to-afford resort town in the French Riviera hounded by the yuppie elite as a frequent vacation getaway from biting and howling northern winters for its sun-graced beaches and mild Mediterranean climate. I envisioned Vegas-style tourist-catering extravagance, but with silken sands and humming waves within reach. I was pleasantly surprised by the irresistable loveliness of Old Nice, which impressed upon me an immaculate fusion of both Italy and France, with vibrant Italian honey yellows, salmon pinks, and muted peach colored edifices in a small-town setting, Nice was a charming and stress-relieving settlement that favors French elegance with Italian charm in an unbeatable package.

Everyone has their own talents -

their personal niche, ya might say. Photography is not everyone's.We erupted in a stream of laughter after we asked a genial gent to snap a snapshot for us before attending A Chorus Line at the Pantages in Hollywood,which happened to be an awe-instilling anecdote of relentless dancers-turned-dreamers striving to establish their nook in this world, one jete at a time. 'Twas an expectedly spectacular musical extravaganza in utmost Broadway fanfare, but what pulled at our heartstrings most was the story's relatability. We exited the regally ostentatious theater convinced that A Chorus Line was a metaphor for our lives. We haven't the knack for pirouettes, arabesques, and dance-savviness, but dude, we, in our volatile and malleable early-20s stage, wanna hone our skills and pinpoint our vocational destination on this globe just as much as the colorful characters do. And as the days pitter patter by, we pray with hope that we're one step closer to ascertaining that calling. And that we come out of it with a treasury of tales to tell.

'Cause I mean, who isn't a sucker for brilliant stories? True, there're far too few gems to be found via the monstrosity we dub the mass media. Forget the fluff and junk on the tube these days that encourage us to postulate our society is perpetually doomed to Jersey Shore-esque absurdity. We're in dire need of titillating tales that convict and inspire. Luckily, you can help make that happen. Watch a dear friend's submission to Oprah's "Your Own Show" contest

and vote for her endeavor to make quality programming a reality. C'mon, who can resist engaging in philanthropy for the betterment of society? So, go on now, and don't be afraid to be aggressive - vote, vote, and vote some more for the one and only Media Maid, Janice Jann!

Grand-scale picnicking

awash with promises of befriending banter by the gaily beckoning chalk-scribbled bannertranspired this weekend past amidst superbly satiating savoriesand celebratory confectionary delectations
that quelled hunger pangs of all patroning Angelenos,who, whence glimpsing diversionary gaming galore,halted present obligations to prattle and play.Can't wait for the subsequent one in July...do dilly-dally to drop by our next picnicking pleasantry!

Partake in picnicking pleasantry with us!

We'd love to see all of you awesome Angelenos there this Sunday! Happy weekending, friendly folks!

Travelogue Thursdays: literary brilliance

Powell's Books, Portland, Oregon, USA on May 2009.We submerged ourselves within the mind-boggling grandeur of the most insanely fabulous indie bookstore, a bona fide Portland institution flaunting 4 million new, used, rare, and outta print tomes, particularly an addicting artillery of vintage printed literary lovelies.

Though I've a penchant for globe-gallivanting,

out-of-town undertakings were not vanquished this Memorial Day weekend past due to a fusion of budgeting woes and skyrocketing airfares. And so, I stayed home. But twiddle my thumbs at the LAbode I did not for home also happens to be my most favored cosmopolitan municipality - La La Land, a playplace to which I shall be perpetually partial,whose sundry pockets are each idiosyncratically alluring,from Downtown LA's urban pioneer componentsthat bespeak a zestymulticultural melting potparticularly via epicurean tidbits at an Angeleno institution,whose entrancing Europeanesque environsentailed a glorious parade of a much-hankered for delectable edible - macarons oozing with schmancy ingredients that I felt irresponsibly compelled to aquire in batchloads.Miracle Mile was a snazzified sector selected to sojourn at LACMA's Urban Light Sculpture that warranted dandy dilly dallying beneath dancing sunbeams.Prancing about with the loveliest loved ones in the City of Angels ne'er fails the weekend palate.