I've been reading a hell of a lot of food blogs lately and I'm not sure what to make of it.

I work in publishing but maybe deep down I want to be a chef. A waitress. A girl bagging groceries. A mom feeding children. All I know is that I have this gross hunger to know what other people are making when they come home at night. How the weather, wherever their kitchen may be, is contributing to their appetite. The bites of real life gone amiss but somehow winding up in the pan, close to tears, next to the onions. The secrets, if any, and there are many, to grilling that cheese and scrambling those eggs.

In casual conversation with Michael tonight, I referenced food bloggers. Under his breath and with no regard he imitated my saying it as if it weren't a real thing. "Ha. Food blogger." Like it was some slang I'd picked up outside school. "Why is that funny?" I asked. "Because I've never heard someone say 'food blogger' before," he said, and he was being honest. In disbelief I sat there. Never heard someone say "food blogger"? Am I reading so many food blogs that I am now caught up in the culture of thinking this is the only culture? I know we lie in bed at night reading vastly different feed aggregators but he's heard the word "food" and he's heard the word "blogger" so... really? A rage ran through me. What is one-third of my blog if not a food blog? What does he think I'm writing? What do I think I'm writing?