Mini Cooper X Coconut Milk

After years and years of people telling me I reminded them of the investigative journalist Nellie Bly, I decided to put on my practical sneakers and emulate the great Columbo. I am in LA after all.

What question am I trying to tackle?

The truth about Erewon. Being so fabulous and off the grid, I hadn’t heard about this up and coming grocery store until recently. But, unlike usual, the more I learned the more I felt intrigued.

It seemed to get more mysterious with every step closer I got to the truth. Now, I’ve watched Murder She Wrote, I know that this is just part of the process. Honestly, answers found early on in the journey are often misguiding.

So, I kept my detective goggles on, and tried not to be swayed by implicit (or explicit) bias. Thank you, Ms. Witte.

The journey started on a sunny day in Fairfax Los Angeles. I set off, a pep in my step, lost in thought about my Erewon adventures ahead. Little did I know what was coming.

Walking up, I almost went in the wrong door, and was met with rueful eyes from the customers around me. Not letting this get to my head (imposter syndrome is a real problem in this industry), I continued on my journey to the real entrance.

For those of you who have never been to this Erewon, the outside windows are covered in a tinted film, dark but still allowing for reflection.

And reflect these people did, as one group of girls stood, face to the wall, admiring their appearance.

Like many LA residents, these girls were alone, out in the big city, save for a vlog camera at their sides. A modern day battle axe.

I started to wonder, much like Zebras in the jungle, do the various vloggers get competitive? It didn’t seem so, as two other vlogging groups were seated outside the golden gate to heaven (Erewons sliding doors). They didn’t look vicious, and despite momentarily slipping my headphones off, I couldn’t hear any sort of growling.

I was curious to learn more, but I’ve always been more partial to Observational rather than Experimental design, so I made my way inside.

My first discovery, something pretty unsightly to someone with New England heritage like myself, was the lack of Hellmans mayo. This isn’t talked about, but the brand of mayo says a lot about an establishment.

I’ve attached a photo of a grocery store I went to last August below, for reference.

This is the comfortable baseline, what's to be expected.

The sight to behold lurking in Erewon's condiment "section"

So, you might be able to understand my discomfort. If I hadn’t been able to tell before, this made me aware that I was in a foreign land, maybe even more foreign than Canada.

I shook it off, and continued on my journey. This place looked like Whole Foods on steroids, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I saw a lollipop there retailing for - you heard me right - $7.49. Maybe LA uses a different currency? I’ll ask Elon next time we hang.

The aforementioned lollipop. You ask me, it's a steal. Look at that sale! You know I love a good deal.

I also noticed that, unlike my usual grocery stores, the prices were either not on things, or hidden on the bottom somewhere. This wasn’t the case for the stuff on shelves, but most of the prepackaged foods and fruit. Maybe this is a marketing scheme, or maybe I need glasses, but it freaked me out. Do the customers here just not care?

Moving throughout the store like a Taipan snake, I found myself at the bread section. The whole store went quiet, and I could hear the whispers around me. Carbs?

I could feel the power coursing through my veins, electric sparks shooting out of my fingers, calling me closer and closer. I felt like the eight year old girl from Roahl Dahl’s the Magic Finger, believing that she had some sort of electric superpower. I later learned this is not the books storyline. Good thing I didn’t tell anyone about that one, huh? 😂💩

You know how in the movies, all great villains have a breaking point? I would tell you what the girl from the Magic Finger’s was, but clearly I don’t remember the book very well. Well, mine was these bagels.

'bagel'

To be quite vulnerable with you all, I feel like I’ve been through enough this year. I’ve had to sit through multiple lecturing me about how Montreal’s “bagels” are better than New York’s. I consider myself a strong person, but this cross was too heavy to bear.

This isn’t to say things didn’t call to me. I saw my favorite fruit of all time, passion fruit. And, the famous sushi sandwich looked delicious. But, some things you just can’t excuse, and while I could not find the sushi sandwiches price, I figured it wasn’t meant to be.

Unlike Nellie Bly, I made it out of Erewon like an oily eel slips out of your fingers when you’re at the beach and in the water and you’re looking for an eel and then you find an eel and you grab it and reach for it and oh no! it slips out of your grasp and you think to yourself what could have been if you had only remembered your fishing net so you put your hands up to your eyes because you can’t stand the sight of the ocean in front of you any longer but you forgot you had just been cutting jalapeños because you’re not in the ocean you’re in your kitchen and you’ve never had an eel in your hands except for that one you ate last night in that sushi that was so delicious and you look at your hands but they’re not hands they’re eels and they’re reaching for your throat and you can’t breathe and the eels become you and you become the eels and you wonder if you were always this way and it seems like you might have been but something’s not right and then you wake up.

To be honest though, I think worse come to worse I could have survived. Like James Madison once said, “throw me to the wolves and I’ll return leading the pack.”

Ta for now, I’ve a couple more Erewon trips in my future, so I’ll keep you updated.

Sometimes I just feel like Obama.

We share so many traits and qualities. According to wkml.com these are ten facts about him.

His name has an interesting meaning. Mine does too. It means flower.

Him and Michelle have a multi-year Netflix deal. I have a blog. And a Netflix account that is technically my parents.

He is left-handed. I also use my hand to write.

He was the first black editor at Harvard law review. I also feel like I’m a trailblazer in some ways. I believe it was me who started the cha-cha slide.

He has two Grammys. My dad is named Graham.

He won a Nobel peace prize. I almost won a Joe Zarba award in middle school photography.

Michelle was his mentor. I also knew someone named Michelle once. She was in my Algebra 2 class.

He has written four books. I have a blog.

Secret service used to call him Renegade. Some call me The Rooster.

Being a father is one of his greatest accomplishments. I have a father.

We Have Bee(n) Lied To

I’ve never been one for complaining (except when I do all the time) and I’ve also never been one for dramatics (mostly). I pride myself on my brute strength and perseverance, especially in the most challenging and harrowing of times. Now, you may be asking that question, “Mia, what these ‘challenging’ and ‘harrowing’ times that you are referring to?” Well, I’ll tell you. It is the season of spring 2023 pollen allergies. Allow me to expand upon this.

It all started back on Thursday. To most on the East coast, (especially the granola earthy crunchy, Birkenstock wearing, Hydroflask carrying, UVM girlies) Thursday was a highlight of the year. Finally, after months of darkness, sunlight began to emerge and people could FINALLY go back to posting spine-chilling Instagram stories of themselves basking in the sun and hammocking (I’m not sure if this is a real word but everyone in Vermont says it so I have also started saying it. Am I assimilating? Maybe.) All in all, Thursday was a glorious day, filled with celebration and optimism for everyone...everyone that is except for me.

It started out well enough but quite quickly turned a corner. I was feeling good, feeling lit, and feeling ready to take on the day. I woke up not, even a sniffle leaving my nose. After all it is April. A little early for allergies, don’t you think? Well, do not be fooled. I too thought this and was sorely mistaken.

This Thursday was a little different from most Thursdays as I had a flight back to NYC! Literally thank god. I arrived in the Big Apple safe and sound after white-knuckling it the entire flight and then paid way too much for an Uber back to my apartment. It was then that I felt a little tickle in my nose. Now, ordinarily this would be nothing to worry about. No skin off my back is what I always say. But I knew this was something different. I felt it in my soul and in my bones. There was something evil afoot.

One thing about me is that I hate sneezing. Especially in an hour-long Uber ride. I can’t have the Uber driver think of me as “sneeze girl” or something of that nature. I mean, what is more humbling than that? Nothing, actually. I knew that if I let one sneeze out, the chain of sneezes would be never-ending, which is why I tried my absolute hardest to hold them in. Let me tell you – that Uber ride was one the most stressful experiences of my life.

As soon as I arrived home, after that tortuous Uber ride. I let out a series of seven sneezes in a row. Embarrassing? Yes. But a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

After my little sneeze-fest I took it upon myself to sample all of the new snacks in my house. As a woman of taste, class, and culture, it has always been important to me to keep up with the times and checking out the pantry to see what I’ve been missing is one of the ways that I do this. Well, this was a mistake. As soon as I opened the cabinet I was hit with a swarm of dust (how my family been living in such filth, I do not know) which only exacerbated the situation sending me into a fit of sneezing, coughing, and intense eye itching. This pollen/dust combo was NOT it. Personally, not a fan. But to each their own, I guess.

Anyway. I thought that this might be remedied by going outside to get some fresh air. After all, doesn’t this seem logical? At the time it did, but upon reflection this was probably one of the stupidest thoughts I have ever had in my life as I was literally choosing to put myself closer to the pollen. We all have our faults, although we all know that mine are few and far between. As you might imagine this was a mistake and set me up to experience a weekend that would truly test the bounds of the mind, body, and spirit. They always say that God chooses her strongest soldiers to put into battle and let me tell you that this weekend I was on the frontlines.

I spend all of Friday and Saturday sneezing up and storm, having to carry packs upon packs of tissues in my tote. As we know, the #totelife is already hard enough, but now I had

to carry extra water, tissues and CVS brand Allegra as well. Oh, did I mention that no allergy medications have ever worked for me ever? I probably should have mentioned this before. I was just carrying the Allegra around for comfort.

Unable to function like a normal human being, I surrendered to the bees and retreated home, leaving my apartment as minimally as possible. I’m ashamed to say that the bees have won this round as I usually consider myself victorious in every situation, but acceptance is the first step to recovery. (or 2nd or 3rd? IDK I am too lazy to look it up. I’ve just heard people say this.)

Usually in stories such as this one, we all hope for a redemption arc for the main character, but I regret to inform you all that as I write this, I have a pocket full of tissues and am currently itching my eye. Ordinarily I would be spiteful and hateful about this, but my 2023 resolution was to look on the bright side, so I am deciding to learn from my pollen allergy experience.

What did I learn you might ask? Let me tell you. We as a society have been far too protective of the bee community. To be honest, I don’t actually understand why. I know they pollinate flowers and make honey, but how serious is that if we really think about it? Probably not that serious. We have been lied to, tricked, bamboozled even. On a personal level, bees have brought nothing to me but torture every Spring and fear every Summer as I am terrified of getting stung. As a collective I think that it is high time that we stop protecting the bees and let fate run its course.

You may be thinking that all of this is a bit dramatic, but what can I say? I have always told it like it is.