You probably started doing this as a child at your neighborhood Olive Garden after church with your family. You probably didn't realize its full potential until college, when recapping the wild antics of the weekend while drinking Bloody Marys was the perfect way to kick-off Sunday Funday. And now, as a contributing member of adult society, it provides an amazing opportunity to gorge yourself both sweet and savory foods, socialize on patios, and sip refreshments on the sabbath day.
My name is Chelsea and I'm a brunchoholic. Hi, Chelsea.
Recently, everyone's favorite portmanteau dining experience has gotten some bad press. The awfulness of brunch is all that Buzzfeed, HelloGiggles, and the Gloss wants to bitch about. Suddenly, the people who brunch are worse than Kony and fracking and the Jersey Shore combined. Scorned are the innocent people who crave rosemary home fries to cure their hangovers. Brunch, overnight, has become a dangerous public enemy.