Joanna Beth Harvelle (reoismyantidrug) wrote in saveatlantisic, @ 2018-08-24 20:17:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, !open, *irish, jo harvelle |
Hogfest
In an hour and a half, Josephine Harlow was going to find herself sitting at a table setting up for a five course meal that included great bourbon and fantastic bacon. There was very little that could go wrong with that when the pros were at hand making sure it all happened. She'd taken the night off just to include herself in this meal. For the time being, however, Josephine was making her way along the festival with bright eyes and a song in her heart. The marine lived for food and drink. She thought it was definitely something that made life worth living at times. Just being able to enjoy the different plethoras of flavors and, well, there was always the nifty little side effect alcohol had of being mind numbing. From what she understood about the dinner, western themed attire was a requirement, so she'd donned her favorite boots, her favorite piece of plaid flannel with a white tank underneath it, a pair of dark blue jeans, and a small, dark brown cowboy hat with a straw look. It was a little overkill she was sure, but she was working this look. Then again, this was her usual style, barring the cowboy hat. With a drink in hand, Josephine perused the festival and the festival goers. There were more than a few who were regulars at Frizzante (bourbon was involved, after all), and some people she'd never seen in her life (tourists were definitely a thing here). The kids who were enjoying themselves, the parents with the bomb blasted look of tiredness that gave Josephine a bittersweet feeling in her gut, but mostly, it was just people in general enjoying their time at an annual festival that some looked forward to every year. Nothing out of the ordinary. |