I'm not ignoring you. See, I've found someone else.... That's the lame beginning to a Dear John type letter I was always too chicken to write in my dating days. It's not that I'm really leaving my blog. It's just that I have somewhere else to devote some (not all) attention to, that's all.
This weekend, I posted for SFist about Why The Caterer Needs Some Chill Time. I'm dying to know: restaurant workers, caterers, and other related peeps, how do YOU feel when you're catering? Tales of woe and mischief are mightily prized and can of course be kept anonymous.