fried bees

Tonight I am in Las Vegas on the 32nd floor of the Signature at MGM Grand. It is midnight, and all day I worked at Project tradeshow selling organic cotton sweatshirts and dresses, by the amazing Seattle based brand Prairie Underground.

Now, in the comfort of my king sized bed, I watch a man on the Travel Channel eat fried bees in Taiwan. Salted Pork that sat out for 2 weeks, and chicken uteri soaked in cinnamon.

I barely have a TV at home, and generally prefer to travel in real life, but there is something about the scaliness of Las Vegas , the 107 degree heat, the neverending chill of miles of AC and even more miles of fake women, and more gladiator sandals than anyone should ever see in their lives, that makes me want to curl up in short shorts and drink wine in bed and watch a thick and smiling white man devour bizarre cultural delicacies .

So with a tired head and body, a belly full of room service, and clean cotton sheets heavy over me, I travelled to Taiwan and could almost smell the steaming soups. The aromas drifting through the vast market places wrap me in sweet slumber.