The Food, the Bad, and the Ugly

I suppose I’m one of those Instagram celebrity stalkers. I follow quite a few, I’m embarrassed to admit. No, I could give a rat’s behind about anyone named Kardashian or GaGa. I follow tattoo artists, celebrity chefs, a small handful of actors (Game of Thrones, anyone?), and Dita Von Teese.
Why do I share my (embarrassing) goofball IG habits? Well 2 major things are happening: the South Beach Wine and Food Festival (abbreviated Sobe, for you rubes) and the Oscars.
My IG has become an obnoxious maelstrom of slick food shots, party selfies, and beautiful people taking selfies and eating slick food.
My life isn’t beautiful. At least not like that.
I’ll never walk a red carpet in a couture gown. I’ll never get to go to a Food and Wine Festival, mingling with the TV personalities I admire so much (although I did so love meeting Robert Irvine and helping out on a Restaurant Impossible shoot) .
I wear a hard hat sometimes. I had a nerdgasm the other day, watching a bayou get dredged, removing arsenic-rich sediment. I could care less who wins Oscars. The last movie I saw in a theater was the first Hunger Games (don’t judge, bastards). I do care a bit more about “Sobe,” but so be it.
Those people don’t get to hang with my people. They don’t get open-mouthed kisses from my son- the juicy kind, mixed with snot. They aren’t called “a kind and beautiful mommy” during an impromptu story-writing session.
So I’ll stay off of IG for a few days, just like I do Facebook around an election. Then I can go back to peeping without any regret- although regret is a rather strong word.






About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
This entry was posted in life, Parenting and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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