Priority Use

This morning when I came home from a particularly exhausting workout I decided to cut and put the brownies away that I had made late the night before. It had been to late to deal with them so I still had to do all the putting away that inevitably ends with eating half of what is there. The fact that it was only 9:30 in the morning and I hadn't had anything to eat didn't stop me from eating the equivalent of at least 2 incredibly rich and fudgy brownies in the process. Well, obviously that was a bad idea. My exhausted muscles didn't realize what I was doing to them, and soaked up every last bit of sugary substance in record time and I was sick. Suffice it to be, I didn't feel like eating anything for the rest of the day. Not being one of those people who can just forget to eat, this lack of nutrition and overdose of junk really affected my mood for the rest of the day. All I wanted to do was curl up in my bed and read. Instead, I organized the spice cabinet. Which, unsurprisingly, was really fun. I'm such a sucker for nerdy things like that. Now, I really want to rearrange the bookshelf. What fun! I can hardly contain myself. Anyway, finally around dinner time, we decided that I was in a very unhealthy state (clearly, I would be a terrible starvation victim), and we headed up to the Hill [to be possibly explained in a future blog--this was in the blog that got deleted when my computer decided to go to sleep without warning] for a fine meal of Mexican food at a cheap college-y hang-out. My mom and I ordered frozen strawberry margaritas (yeah, a really good way to top off a day of only brownies. And, wow, they were strong). The guy who took our order didn't ask for my ID, but I could tell that he was kinda conflicted about the situation. He was about my age, and maybe he didn't want to broach the subject, I don't know. But, it was kinda awkward. After my mom ordered her platter #4 (vegetable taco and corn tortilla quesadilla), she stepped aside to look at something on the wall and I ordered my fajita burrito (hold the sour cream). The guy looked at me again and asked for my ID quietly. Apparently these are secretive sort of issues. I surrendered the little bugger and he stared at it for an unusual amount of time (I don't know, maybe 18 seconds--let's not exaggerate here) and handed it back to me. Oh, did I mention he was on the attractive side of the attractive/unattractive spectrum?

Speaking of attractive, my mom and I went to get ice cream the other day and ended up at the Hill again in a little local shop. When we walked in, I was on the phone with a friend, but I hung up before I ordered. Then, as I was about to order, the same friend called back so I picked it up. Realizing that I had to order and was potentially being quite rude to a possible item of attraction I asked if I could call her back. I asked him for a sample and he teased me and said no. Only I didn't realize he was teasing and we had ourselves a little chuckle. When he handed me the sample, people, it was golden. Not the ice cream, though that was pretty good too, but him. He was golden. Let's just say I'll be back next week, same time. I have only a few weeks to become his favorite customer.

[On an even more unrelated note, I just realized that the blogger spell checker doesn't even know a few of the most important Spanish words. It thought burrito, tortilla, fajita and quesadilla didn't exist. What a shame. Fortunately, I pressed the learn button so it won't think they're wrong in the future.]