Thank God It’s FryDay

yEtiquette tip: Just order the French fries.

Your friends are lovely people, all of them, I’m sure. Some may just not have the confidence to ask for what they want. Perhaps they’re simply not self-aware enough to even know what they really want. They could be forgiven for all the salads, dressing on the side, no croutons, please, because this is the culture we live in. It’s polite to take the spartan, healthy path, while denying more decadent desires.

That’s why you’re doing them, yourself, and society at large a great favor by ordering the French fries. Don’t ask, don’t make a scene about it, still go for those giant bowls of frilly lettuces all the same. Nonchalantly push the glorious golden spuds into the center of the table, make subtle gestures to share if you must provide further encouragement, and consider the ice officially broken.

 
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The Devil Eats Chocolate

“That’s very fattening.”

Dropping like a stone out of the clear blue sky, the unsolicited comment stopped me cold. I hadn’t even been aware of the man standing in front of my cart, blocking my slow procession down the aisle. An instinctual flicker of rage flashed before my eyes, as if I had been slapped and called out back for a fight. This? This innocent little chocolate bar I held in my hand, fattening? What had it ever done to deserve such a harsh insult, completely unprovoked?

I looked up quickly, startled by the intrusion. There was only one way to respond, as far as I could see.

Looking this odd stranger straight in the eye, I spoke clearly and calmly.

“Yep.”

Immediately, the decision was made under that advice. Into the cart went the candy, tossed nonchalantly. That was all such a careless exclamation warranted.

Pulling the cart away from the shelf, away from this intruder, an incredulous grin began to spread across my face. What a laughable claim! What a strange thing to interject! Perhaps I should be grateful he’s so deeply concerned with my nutritional well-being. As if “fattening” was a terrible condition that could be contracted and spread like a disease, it was so kind of him to take a stand against the evils of all confectionery the world over, starting with my misinformed purchase.

Taking my plunder outside the store, there was only one way to dispose of such dangerous contraband. Quickly removing the wrapper to dissect the scored rectangles, it broke like the flimsy villain facade it hid behind, shattering into dark brown splinters that glittered inside the foil sheath. Vanquishing the beast, piece after piece succumbed to a sharp bite of the teeth, and a slow melt over the tongue.

May this beast inflict its fattening ways over society no more.

The Dark Ages

When night falls, it plummets like a stone and crash-lands with a resounding thud. Darkness overtakes the sky by brute force, smudging out the sun in an deepening stain marring the clouds. There’s no gentle transition, no ombre sunset nor starry twilight. Like flipping off a light switch, the day is suddenly, starkly over.

Shelter is found in pinpricks across the landscape, by the electric flames of a thousand burning bulbs. They illuminate houses in neat little rows, strung together like bulky Christmas ornaments adorning the city, spilling their garish yellow glow across swaths of concrete. Biting into chunks of impenetrable shadow, clearing away the blackness pouring down all around, each luminous oasis is provides a brief flash of comfort.

Welcome home, they seem to whisper, You’re safe here. Behind glossy window panes, families gripe and groan about daily chores over hot dinners. Couples young and old sit quietly in front of a flickering TV screens, immersed in the latest new scandal or big ticket movie available to stream. Life continues on without missing a beat, unconcerned with the oppressive plague of night that has taken hold just beyond view. The darkness disguises our reality outside, but does not change that constant truth.

Build a Better Blog

Inspiring, overwhelming, humbling, invigorating, enlightening, stunning, and motivating; such a rush of seemingly discordant emotions percolated throughout hours of workshops and sessions during the 2018 WOWsummit. Bringing together bloggers from across the country for a 2-day celebration of this incredible online community, connecting screen names to real faces turned a potentially dry educational experience into a real-life reunion party. Beyond meeting and greeting, the main goal here was to share experiences, build stronger networks, and dispense invaluable advice.

With so much information to absorb packed into each discussion, you could easily fill a book after just one day on the expo floor. Condensing down some of the top tips that resonated with me, my notes are not all-inclusive nor definitive advice for guaranteed success, but bold reminders of how to step up my own game. There’s always more that can be done, whether you’re a complete novice or seasoned veteran, often with little extra effort needed. Want to know what resonated with me most? Here are the top tips that continue echoing through my brain…

Finding Your Voice and Personal Brand:

  • Think about your values
  • Speak from personal experience
  • Understand your purpose, know what you have to offer
  • Establish a mission based on your passion
  • Never lose yourself in branding; a human face is what others can connect with
  • Keep it real, not necessarily polished
  • Check in with your audience to find out what’s important to them
  • Numbers don’t tell the full story; quality over quantity always rules
  • Be honest, vulnerable, relatable
  • Have a focus, define your niche
  • Don’t dilute your brand by partnering with companies that don’t fit with your perspective
  • Define your own success; set goals, personally and professionally
  • Be consistent
  • Engage as much as possible
  • Have a schedule
  • Put yourself out there and reach out to brands you already support
  • Network, create connections with other bloggers

Working with Brands:

  • Make sure it’s a good fit; same audience, same perspective
  • Pay attention to detail (no spelling errors, get names right)
  • Do your research to know what they’ve done in the past
  • Give examples of what you will post, link to past work
  • Be clear about terms, goals
  • Encourage ongoing relationship, ambassadorship
  • Offer many options for collaborations
  • Giveaways, Facebook chats/ask and expert/Twitter party/unboxing
  • Don’t be afraid to negotiate
  • Make real connections; talk on the phone, meet in person if possible. Make it personal.
  • Stay in touch, follow up

To say that this is just a shallow overview would be generous. Anyone who’s attempted to blog for more than a day understands what a complex, crazy venture it is, which is why we’re all our greatest resources. What are your best practices for success? What keeps you blogging? Or, if you haven’t started, what’s stopping you from diving into the pool and joining the blogosphere? Come on, don’t just dip in a toe; jump head-first! There’s nothing to lose, and a whole community to gain.

Smoke and Mirrors

Cascading down the hills and clouding city streets, this was not the usual fog rolling in from the bay. This was smoke, thick and acrid, obscuring our vision, tearing at our throats. Fires burned just beyond eye shot, but the devastation knew no bounds. We all felt the pain of a hundred thousand trees incinerated in an afternoon, reduced to ash and deposited without ceremony upon cars and buildings miles away, like a deathly snow in the summertime blaze.

Escape from this unseen monster is impossible; it hunts you, haunts you through homes and offices. It lingers in the stale air underground across BART tracks. It condenses inside closed windows. It stays within your lungs long after you exhale. It suffocates from the outside in, and the inside out.

This is not a dystopian vision of the future. This living hell is the new normal.

2018 California Wildfires

On Fatherhood

Anthony Bourdain was my dad. Not in a biological sense, not in an adoptive sense, not in any familial sense at all. I never met the man; he didn’t know I existed. Such a nonsensical allegation might disqualify any latter statements, and yet I stand by these words. It’s not so much that the man raised me, but that I saw so much of my actual father in him that for many years when I was growing up, hooked on the TV, I subconsciously transposed the two when one or the other wasn’t around.

1995, building a bike

My dad is an incredible man. Deeply intelligent, sarcastic, strong, compassionate, and loving to a fault. He would move the earth for his family, do anything it took to make his children happy. He wouldn’t dote on us because we were too rebellious to allow such an indulgence, but he’s always been the one putting in the hours, working in places with people he’d rather never met, to give us the best life possible. That’s why he was always traveling when I was younger, always on the job, seeing far off lands that I couldn’t begin to imagine.

When I found Mr. Bourdain and his incredible adventures, I felt as if it was some sort of glimpse at my dad’s secret life, of the places he would go when he packed up his bags and climbed into the bulky airport shuttle van once again. Granted, my dad isn’t nearly such a foodie, nor had time to cavort on the streets to seek out such wild exploits. His time was occupied by meetings with professionals in anonymous grey buildings that could have truly been located anywhere in the world. I had no idea, so I made up my own narrative. I wanted to believe that he was having just as much fun, too.



1992, my sister and I pile on

I realize all this in hindsight, as I try desperately to pull apart my intense reaction to the news of Mr. Boudain’s passing. He may not have as many fans within the vegan community, but that’s truly besides the point; it’s downright offensive that anyone could consider this anything less than a tragedy, a horrendous loss of a person with a lot of heart, and sadly, a lot of demons. It’s still hard to accept the fact that he’s gone, that he will never again shed light on a place where no other journalist would dare explore, speak to locals otherwise overlooked, try foods no average American would dream of consuming.

I cling even more tightly to my real father now, despite the physical distance that separates us. We send silly emails back and forth, commenting on ridiculous news stories or funny anecdotes from our days. Nothing big or serious; we rarely even say “I love you” outright, but it’s always implied. I feel so incredibly lucky to have this incredible human being in my life, and the loss of another is a powerful reminder of that.

1989, still new at this

If there’s one thing I ask of you, on this Father’s Day, is to really appreciate all of the fathers in your life. Past, present, honorary, or designated by birth. We need them- I need them- To teach us how to fully live, and to be better citizens of the world.