Sometimes I participate in activities that are so foreign to me, I can't help but laugh and roll my eyes. On Saturday I attended a wedding shower in Atlanta for one of my closest friends, Patricia. The shower (appropriately named since it was absolutely pouring) was at the Swan Coach House in Buckhead, an alternate universe where people with gobs of old southern money live surrounded by their diamonds and ponies. Thank goodness I threw a dress in my suitcase before departing Knoxville - I probably would have been denied entrance or considered hired help had I wore my jeans. Unfortunately however, I forgot to pack some shoes, so while dining with the ladies of Buckhead, I crammed my size 7.5 feet in a pair of Patricia's size 6.5 heels. Cozy.
Our meal, a tiny portion of chicken salad and some frozen fruit concoction (apparently it's their signature dish). The fruit thing freaked me out. The lady next to me asked why I didn't try it. My response: "Because I noticed you only took one bite of yours and then stopped eating."
My souvenir glitter swan.
Tracy and Patricia - ladies who lunch.
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