After our manicures J. and I took a walk on over to the museum and then down Kelley Drive. After the walk we took in some Olympics before heading to the Northern Liberties neighborhood in order to participate in one of our longest held traditions...playing foosball. Before we played this foosball we had lunch at Dos Segundos.
I had a margarita. It was quite nice. Amazing, no. It didn't seem like it had been made out of a premade mix but, paradoxically, it didn't taste like it had been made with fresh limes either.
A nice guy, whether an employee or simply a patron of the establishment, saw me struggle taking a photograph of our new nails and helped me out. Below you can see my shiny new nails.
My childhood friend had a chimichanga the size of a small baby.
I had goat tacos. They were quite, quite yummy. The meat was tender, the cilantro fresh, the whole thing juicy. I might have wished for complimentary tomatoes and sour cream but even without (I actually paid for the sour cream) the dish was tasty. Each taco wasn't skimpy on the meat.
We were seated in a very sunny spot, I had already gotten too much sun on my chest from our early walk and then I had to worry about my back getting equally burned. So I constructed a cape out of a napkin in a not entirely futile attempt not to burn.
J. was kind enough (psych) not to remind me of my cape as we walked out the restaurant. Sigh. I am awesome. Not because of the cape. No. I am awesome because then we went to
North Bowl where I used the entirety of my quarter cache to play a few games of foosball with my pal. And after a rocky start, beat her pants off her legs. That's right. I am the awesomest foosball player ever. Still got the touch, baby. Still got the touch.
I had a margarita. It was quite nice. Amazing, no. It didn't seem like it had been made out of a premade mix but, paradoxically, it didn't taste like it had been made with fresh limes either.
A nice guy, whether an employee or simply a patron of the establishment, saw me struggle taking a photograph of our new nails and helped me out. Below you can see my shiny new nails.
My childhood friend had a chimichanga the size of a small baby.
I had goat tacos. They were quite, quite yummy. The meat was tender, the cilantro fresh, the whole thing juicy. I might have wished for complimentary tomatoes and sour cream but even without (I actually paid for the sour cream) the dish was tasty. Each taco wasn't skimpy on the meat.
We were seated in a very sunny spot, I had already gotten too much sun on my chest from our early walk and then I had to worry about my back getting equally burned. So I constructed a cape out of a napkin in a not entirely futile attempt not to burn.
J. was kind enough (psych) not to remind me of my cape as we walked out the restaurant. Sigh. I am awesome. Not because of the cape. No. I am awesome because then we went to North Bowl where I used the entirety of my quarter cache to play a few games of foosball with my pal. And after a rocky start, beat her pants off her legs. That's right. I am the awesomest foosball player ever. Still got the touch, baby. Still got the touch.
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