*blue balls not included.
I second the sentiment my friend made about having a diet entirely based on Mexican food. Even with an early leftovers lunch, I'm still skipping around the office singing "I Love Mexican." And no, my boyfriend's name is not Eduardo.
Last night we incorporated Ladies' Night, "Seis de Mayo" and my birthday celebrations all into one very special Nuevo Acapulco dinner. I swear I eat there until I am stuffed beyond what an average stomach holds. While I strayed away from my usual Cadillac Margarita with a Tecate (in a can) beer, I gorged myself on my typical three cheese-and-onion enchilada platter… with heavy sour cream.
It's not my birthday quite yet — only a few days away. The brief mention of birthday celebrations for us going back two/three years was hilarious. It is so much nicer to have dinner and conversation with friends with a celebration that ultimately everyone will remember… and not be embarrassed by the photos — with the exception of this one:
I mean, I (vaguely) remember my 29th when I passed out in handicapped stall, but it certainly is not memorable for the right reasons. God help me, I'm getting older.
My wonderful girls brought me a bouquet of sunflowers and other yellow flowers and two HUGE bags of Malley's chocolates of random varieties.
If I had the option, Malley's would be my second diet selection.
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This blog is about pursuit: a transplanted Clevelander (me) in a new city (that's you, Pittsburgh!), pursuing the role of a self-employed copywriter, becoming a roller derby badass and somehow merging all my to-do items into one ever-growing Bucket List.
And of MY boyfriend. His blue balls started this mess.
