WTF: Blogger Doesn't Know 'Burrito', 'Enchilada' or 'Margarita'.
Friday: Black bean burrito from Pico de Gallo.
Saturday: A.M.: Leftover guac & chips; P.M.: Nachos, enchilada trio, 6 margaritas, & 1 Mexipolitan at El Vez*.
Sunday: Tortilla thrown on pan, sprinkled with cheddar = "Quesadilla".
I think I'm going to puke.
Last night Dax and I had a lovely dinner at El Vez followed by a meet-up at Independence Pub for a birthday party of one of her co-workers. Unlike last weekend's party, this one was all lawyers. And me. Oh, don't feel sorry for me, really. It was great fun because these people aren't your regular starched-collars-aluminum briefcase-Grisham types: they are Philadelphia's finest - The Public Defenders.
What a quirky bunch. With social skills! Not something you see often in large groups of lawyers. And even though Dax was apologetic about talking work-stuff, I found it fascinating. I learned what a 'PWID'** is. One fellow told me that my neighborhood is one of his best customers for PWIDs.
Anyway, it's yucky rainy here today and I must get back to baking. Big party with lots of press there tomorrow (Grateful I won't be there. My cheesecake will stand in as my trusty representative.), and I've got lots of Cantankerous Canary business to take care of too. So off I go.
*We may have poured six margaritas, but they were definitely not full-strength. Otherwise I would have been...oh god, let's not even go there. I suggest y'all try the Mexipolitan - a little more kick than its Cosmo cousin, but still fruity and girly and nice.
**Possession With Intent to Distribute.
Addendum: I just want to make it clear that the "I think I'm going to puke" comment was made in reference to the weekend's ongoing Mexi-fest and not to the story that follows. Sorry for any confusion, Dax. xx!