Lessons Learned in ATL, Part 2.

1. The bougie bar CAN be raised.
People that know me would likely point to a small bougie streak. OR, they might point to the 8 lane expressway that is my bougie streak. Either way, suffice it to say I like the finer things. I'm the girl that will order a glass of sparkling wine at the bar for no other reason than my existence is celebration enough to justify a champagne glass.* A friend of mine once accused me of being bougie because I carried my Kate while on an island vacation to do some exploring. What can I say? It's my go-to bag, darn it!

Anyway, we'd been invited by the basketball player to a fundraising event that was happening that Saturday. The fundraiser was -- wait for it -- a polo match! As in, Pretty Woman, Kentucky Derby, fancy-hat-and-cocktails-in-the-middle-of-the-day polo match. Jade and I generally follow the philosophy of "EFF it, WHY NOT?!" So naturally, we were IN. The only problem was that we legitimately needed to look the part. There was going to be a fancy hat contest, for heaven's sake! Also? We needed to get this done in about 45 minutes. Well, let me just say, we were phenomenal. After digging in to Jade's closet and my suitcase, throwing things together and going to 2 different stores, we were equestrian chic and hot to death. Simply put, we were amazing.

When we got there, we were pleased to discover that our wool floppy hats fit right in. Our bougie bar? Splendidly raised. Just when you thought our fabulous level had peaked. HA!

2. The scumbag elevator always goes down another floor.
The last and most important lesson I learned in ATL is that I will never be desensitized to the scumbag factor. Just when you think you've reached the bottom, there is someone swimming in the gutter below the surface.

While at the polo match, we met an attorney there. (Of course we did). This attorney was on par with Smiling Irish Eyes from the fundraiser. Except he was much MUCH older. He was 15 years older than me if he was a day. Much like that guy, he was definitely overweight. He encased his pudgy in pinstriped vest and matching pants. Atop his head he had a pinstriped fedora. To bring the fit-out (as opposed to an outfit) out, the attorney had on mirrored sunglasses -- a la Megatron. While the sunglasses were necessary at the beginning of the day while standing outside, the tables were all open air but covered. Sunglasses, totally unnecessary. (Sunglasses at Night was on constant loop in my head).

Anyway, he was totally inappropriate, but it was generally funny. Let's be honest, I'm not easily offended by words. For example, he said to me "how tall are you? You're like a pin-up doll." A what? Yeah, I asked that too. He says "Like, I'd pin you up against the wall, doll." WOW. Did you just say that out loud? I was stunned, but it was still hilarious. And hey, drinking may have been involved. So I'm willing to roll with the punches.

And then, we jumped on the scumbag elevator and hit a new low. At the end of the day, someone said something that was wildly inappropriate but generally hilarious. In pure pheebee fashion, I reacted (over)dramatically, pretending to be so floored that I lost my balance. While I was bent over and giggling, I felt the rather distinctive feeling of 2 smacks being placed squarely on my arse by a foreign and uninvited hand. You know those moments when time totally stops, and you can't hear anything going on around you and you're moving in slow motion? Yeah, that's what it was like. I was so pissed I saw nothing but red. I'm not really a violent person, so my first thought wasn't to kick or slap him (although, that would have been totally preferable). My initial reaction was to tell him EXACTLY what I thought about his old fat self.

I spun around, and through clenched teeth I asked him if he had, in fact, just smacked my ass. With a disgusting pervert grin on his face, he says "yeah I did. *giggle*. You're wearing a thong, aren't you?"

At this point, I was doing everything in my power not to cuss him out AND kick him in his old wrinkled nuts. Clearly seeing the look on my face, Jade attempted to run an interference. She was talking a mile a minute (all I heard was "please don't" and "ruin" and "for real, like seriously") and her hands were making gestures akin to a baseball manager standing in the dugout telling his player to steal 2nd. So, what I say to him is "WHY THE PHCK WOULD YOU DO THAT? WHAT WOULD POSSESS YOU TO THINK THAT WAS OK? ARE YOU OUTSIDE OF YOUR MIND?"

He appeared to be surprised by my reaction. And pretended to apologize profusely. "I'm sorry. My bad." "I phckd up." "I was flirting with you." I was only hearing snippets, because the choice words in my head were SO DAMN LOUD!!!! I'd like to think he was actually apologizing, and was just drunk-stupid. But, no one is that stupid. The next thing he said was "do you want to meet me in Vegas next week? I have to go for a conference, and..." I'm not sure what he said next, because I was busy responding to the first part of the sentence "WHY THE HELL WOULD I GO WITH YOU TO VEGAS?"

Oh, did I mention that he was married? And that his wife was AT THE POLO MATCH?

Now, at this point, people who know me might ask "why didn't you cuss him out in your own special way?" Well, I refer you to lesson number 1 for today. It was a day of bougie, and there was a certain façade that was necessary. Plus, we were invited guests of someone that neither of us knew all that well. And, that person was the client of Jade's friend. Business before ego. Friendships before business. I couldn't go HAM because there were too many important relationships at risk. This was an unfortunate circumstance, because I had a couple sleepless nights since it bothered me so much that I didn't have the opportunity to tell that vile bastard exactly what I thought of him. Ultimately, I just have to remind myself that karma is a bitch with a looooooooooooong memory.

Perhaps even more tragic is that after it happened, Jade and her accountant friend were somewhat underwhelmed. Not because they're heartless, but because this caliber of scumbag is commonplace in ATL. It's a small wonder that any quality woman isn't single for life or so deep in her madness that she must be sedated just to get through each day. Honestly? If this was commonplace, I'd constantly suffer from laryngitis. There's no way I could keep holding my tongue. Even more sad, even if I had the opportunity to say something, it would have done ZERO good -- it would have fallen on deaf ears. Well -- not zero. I would have felt immensely better.



*In fact, Jade and I met and bonded over a glass of Moscato d'Asti. We'd both been invited to a birthday party of a guy we didn't know. I ordered myself an Asti (again, because my existence is celebration enough), and Jade was intrigued. I offered her my glass so she could give it a shot. And boom! We bonded. See that? Alcohol brings people together.

Lessons learned in ATL, Part 1.

So, I travelled to my least favorite city (to date) for a nice weekend jaunt with one of my favorite people of all time (to date).* While there, I learned all kinds of things. Allow me to share.

1. 5 Hour Energy Drinks really do work.
I worked a full day of work on Friday, so I was actually prepared to go out for a quick minute and then fall asleep. But, this was not an option because we were scheduled for some full time shenanigans. So, I drop a 5 hour energy drink in the carryon and roll out. Before I get on the plane, (and after packing the small bottled wonder), I stopped at Macy's to get a pair of eyelashes. When deciding which ones to get, I asked the lady for lashes that would fit in in the flossiest, flashiest, snootiest, most bougiest city in America. (That's Jade's description, not mine!!). Anyway, they were long, they were winged, and they were fabulous.** About 45 minutes before landing, I put in my contacts, touched up my makeup, and gave the guy next to me a nice little batting of the eyelashes just to make sure they were working. He promptly started fanning because his temperature raised at least 10 degrees -- they were working.*** After jumping off the plane, I dashed to the airport bathroom to change a la Superman with a bigger phone booth. Walking into the bathroom, I was a casual sorority chick visiting her long distance boyfriend. Walking out, I was a diva on her way to prove once and for all why northern women make southern belles look like chopped liver.

We headed out to the bar, where we met up with Jade's friend and his client. (Jade's friend being an accountant to the ATL elite). So, basically, I'd never heard of this dude before. But, I later found out that he was a retired basketball player. As in, in the NBA. That's right, I had cocktails with a retired NBA player. All I noticed was that he was really really tall and talked a lot of BS. But, he was nice and polite, and able to take all of the trash talking we did vis a vis the Falcons vs. the Packers. So, he was cool. *shrug* That's just how Jade and I roll...get on our level. ;)

2. Actually, you do need to put your bags back into your bag.
When I was going through security, I was hearing all kinds of wah wah wah over the speakers. I heard my gate mentioned, but I figured it was an announcement about a different flight. So I really didn't stress about it. When I finally got to the other side of the conveyer belt, I put my shoes on and hauled all my junk to the nearest bench in order to put my life together. I immediately checked for my phone, because I'm unnecessarily paranoid about losing my phone. It was there, so I zipped up my bag and got to moving. Just in time to hear them make the last boarding call for my flight. And THAT'S when I started to haul some serious booty. I ran, dragging my carryon behind me, coat flapping in the breeze. I made it -- and fortunately I wasn't the last person on the plane. I heard the guy at the gate say they were trying to get off the ground early. Yeah well, he was a total liar. The plane left maybe 3 minutes early. All that rushing I did? Totally unnecessary. No matter. I went to the bathroom before takeoff, and when I got back to my seat, I went to pull my 1 plastic baggie full of 3 oz liquids out to grab some lotion. And...it wasn't in my bag. I shrugged, figuring that I had stuffed it in my stowed luggage. Turns out? It wasn't stowed. I left the great folks of TSA a nice little present on the bench at Midway. Hope it didn't cause an incident. *shrug*. At first, I was totally calm about it -- I figured except for my foundation, it was full of all kinds of things I hijacked from hotel stays. And then I was pissed when I realized (2 days later) that my brand-freaking-new eyeshadow primer was in that bag. Some TSA agent is totally rocking longwear eyeshadow on my dime. #curses.

3. It actually is possible for Jade and I to get even MORE bougie.
Remember when I said that the NBA player was a nice guy? Well, on Friday night, he invited us to -- wait for it -- a polo match. A what? A POLO MATCH! It was a fundraiser, and included contests for best hat (a la, Derby hats), best place settings, and best cocktail. If that just doesn't beat all! So, in true eff-it-why-not form, Jade and I readily agreed. We managed to pull together "equestrian chic" outfits in 30 minutes or less.**** Part of that was getting humongous floppy hats. It was amazing. The entire time, I just kept thinking "am I for real at a polo match right now? Wow." It was a new experience, and it was wicked awesome that we did it.

While we were there, football was on. (Obviously). The Packers had a bye week, but my fantasy team was on and poppin'. Admittedly, I was concerned about it, because my opponent had some of the most awesome players ever (including Cam Newton, with his sexy sexy self). The boys were all checking their phones, and making all kinds of announcements about who was doing what to whom. I got into it right there with them. We were exchanging stats, comparing fantasy team members, and commiserating over Brees' horrible game against the Rams. At one point, we were talking about something really simple...like, the fact that Drew Brees' epic fail against the Rams was out of character for him. At that point, no joke, one guy turned to me and asked: "Are you a writer for ESPN?" Really dude? I didn't say anything remotely impressive just then. And I KNOW that you didn't hear me discussing the weaknesses in the Packers' secondary. So, are you truly that easily impressed?! (Man, southern women must really be out of the loop when it comes to sports. Score yet another one for northern gals!)

All in all, the trip was good. When I flew in on Monday morning, I was all around exhausted. Totally worth the sleep deprivation.



*Jade threw the friend card at me. Basically saying that if I didn't come to visit her, I couldn't be her friend anymore. So, I booked a flight out for a quick weekend turnaround.

**And, the Mac makeup artist also did some fabulous smokey eye flair to go with them. (She was amazing!)

***May or may not be a total exaggeration of what actually happened.

****I was totally unprepared for all of the activities we got into this weekend. I'm pretty impressed with what I managed to pull together with limited resources.

French Women Don't Get Fat -- PAH!

Well, I've been to paradise and back. I spent 3 days in the French and Dutch West Indies. Aside from the fabulous weather (a few minor rain sneezes, but otherwise great) there was a ridiculous amount of extraordinarily rich food. I ate two full French meals. Plus, I had a lovely catered dinner at the hotel. I for sure gained 10 pounds in those three days. I don't know how French and West Indies women don't get fat, but I'd die for their secret!!!

Now, aside from the extraordinarily rich food, I also marveled at the fabulosity of the hotel. And by calling it a hotel I am underselling the Dawn Beach Resort and Spa. A Westin owned resort, this place was every bit the tiny piece of heaven Westin advertises it to be. I must have taken 7 pictures of my room alone -- and I was in one of the less desirable rooms! I had a hallway in my room...a hallway! Then, off to the left, a nice sized closet with a cleverly placed switch that turned on a light whenever you opened the door. To the right, a bathroom bigger than my current bedroom. Big enough to have a separate glass enclosed shower and a huge bathtub.

Then, the bedroom, with a big flat-screen tv, a king-sized bed, a lounge chair, and a desk. And yes, bigger than my living room. And, the sliding glass door opened onto a balcony, large enough to hold two chairs and a wooden coffee table. It was fantastic!

The thought I had to myself as I was falling asleep my first night there? "I don't care where I go on my honeymoon, as long as I stay in a Westin Resort."

To top it off, I met my new married friend! She doesn't have a nickname yet. But, she is fabulous! She is for sure one of the most put together people I've ever met. And, she's got an extraordinary husband too. (At least, the way she tells it).

Travelocity

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm actually tired of travelling. Crazy, huh? I realized this when I was travelling to Boston. I was in Boston for an ABA Conference as part of my plan to take over the world. But, while I was there, I realized that I wasn't in the mood to do much sightseeing. Nor did I want to go to all of the important places that a person goes to when visiting the city. All I wanted to do was lay about in my hotel room. (Of course, I didn't do any of these things).

I finally met up with my friend from college, kd. She took me to all of the important places, like Quincy Market, the Little Italy neighborhood, the Freedom Trail, Boston Public Library, and Trinity Church. (I know I said I'd post pictures here, but I figured you'd rather have a post than wait for me to actually put some pictures up.)

We also had a little adventure attempting to get me some good New England Clam Chowder -- because one does not go to New England and not eat clam chowder. So what happened, you ask? Well, kd. had heard about this resto that had the best. clam chowder. EVER. Unfortunately, when we got there, it was not open for lunch service. Bummer. But, we were told to head two doors down to a different resto, they would have the 2nd best clam chowder. So we walk through the connected hotel (as a side note, you can seriously walk 6 miles and never go outside in Boston. Maybe it was just where I was, but I swear all the buildings were connected). Anyway, as we walk through the hotel, we ask the desk clerk a good place for clam chowder. He both suggests the aforementioned resto next door, and then calls the concierge who makes the same recommendation.

So, we get to the resto, and no clam chowder! It's not even on the menu. So, kd. is about to gnaw her arm off, therefore we decided to go ahead and eat anyway, and save the clam chowder for dinner. I order a tasty and delicious burger, with barbecue sauce on the side. Tasty and delicious right? The waitress raises her eyebrown when I asked for the barbecue sauce. So, I repeat myself, thinking she was confused about the "on the side" portion of my request. No, that ain't it. She says, "we don't carry barbecue sauce." Say, what?! How are you a restaurant and don't have barbecue sauce? I am speechless and confounded at this point. It is here where I am officially done with Boston. Not because of one resto, mind you. But because this is, apparently common! I talk about it for the entire day, and kd. random people on the street, waiters, hotel staff, all agree that this is normal. In fact, instead of outrage the first reaction I got was usually "did they carry ribs?" WHAT?! Please tell me what one has to do with the other? Argh!

Otherwise, Boston was neat. I had fun finally seeing kd. And I always enjoy being in a new city. And I have resumed laying seeds to take over the world. Oh! And the hotel where we stayed was connected to the greatest mall ever. Have you ever seen a stand-alone Jimmy Choo store down the hall from a stand-alone Charles David store? AND Louis Vuitton store? I haven't! It was an awesome mall.