blating in sarasota

Blate [bleyt] :  blogger + date; internet friending at its finest.

 origin: across the pond.  literally. 

I blated while I was spending a little time down in Florida a few weeks ago.  My good friend Candice invited me to drive up to Sarasota for lunch and I jumped at the chance. And then immediately was nervous enough to pee my pants.

 If you've never been on a blate before, let me tell you.  Each time you meet someone new, it's always nerve-wracking.  First of all, everyone who doesn't blog thinks you're completely nuts.  'You're going to meet who?  Someone you met on the internet?  Wait, you consider her your best friend but you've never actually met?  Are you sure you're not going to end up on one of those Dateline specials?'

Then you get the first date nerves.
Even though you know everything about this person right down to what nail polish she's wearing that week.  (For the record Candice, I was totally expecting mint with glitter.  Way to throw a curveball with that tangerine!)  You feel like you're going on a blind date simply because you need to reassure yourself that this person does exist.

And after all that turmoil and speculation, you meet them, reassure yourself that they are real and then you have one of the greatest days of your life.
Point one for internet dating friendshipping.

Especially since this blate was one of my best yet.
I pretty much walked through Station 400's doors and was immediately enveloped in a hug.

She's a hugger like me.  I was smitten already.
She's also ridiculously sweet, stunning and pretty much exactly as I expected.
We caught up, shared stories, laughed and giggled.
Dined on orange-honey chicken salad, topped with mango chutney.

And then because the blate can't just end with lunch, Candice decided to show me around her favorite shopping area.  And the Lily Pulitzer store.  Which was unbelieveable.
A bright heaven of clothing.  And the walls.  Oh the walls.  Covered in these amazing hand-drawn pictures and patterns.  I don't know how you can walk in this store and not instantly be happy.

 Yeah, we hang out in dressing rooms, don't you?

 And we had to stop by Candice's favorite French shop: Le Marcaron.  Because every blate needs a little dessert :) 

Light, melt-in-your mouth marcarons.
 Perfectly crisp on the outside and creamy on the inside.

Dessert doesn't get much better than this.

 The best part of the entire day had to be when we randomly ran into Candice's dad.
And then I was mistaken as his daughter.
Whatever, I'm practically family anyway.

I mean come on...we totally look like sisters right?