now i pray that somebody will quickly come and kidnap me

I feel like I've spent a great majority of my 20s (thus far) sitting at a table with other 20-somethings, discussing our quarter-life crises. The topics are always the same - fear of being unfulfilled, fear of failure, fear of never discovering anything significant about yourself. But the older and more cynical we become, the more interesting this conversation gets. I don't know if I'll ever tire of having this same conversation, especially over potent food & cheap beer.

Before J-YOO departs to the motherland for another godforsaken year in a country with bizarre ethics, we spent an evening boozing and schmoozing at Shoya, Atlanta's first real izakaya. Located near the now defunct GM factory, there's no better place to bomb yourself away. Okonomiyaki, kushiyaki, sashimi, sushi, bi-ru... I wish life was always this good.

P.S. This is not a food blog. I do not care to explain anything about the food I'm eating, nor will I make pretentious statements about a restaurant's atmosphere, clientele, wait staff, etc. If you're searching for any of that, I suggest you direct your browser to Yelp.








coat. H&M. shoes. Pour La Victoire. bag. vintage Gucci.