So Adrian and I were all excited to go to mass together yesterday, and Becca and Matt were coming too. Becca and I were about a minute walk away from the church when Matt called and said they were closed. Very closed. Under renovations. So I called Adrian and told him to just stay in and finish his laundry. Well, now the lovebirds and I had an hour and a half to kill before Becca's belated birthday dinner at Superior Grill. So we just decided to go the restaurant early and have margaritas, a huge bowl of queso, a huge bowl of guac, multiple salsas, and five baskets of chips.
At the time, we didn't have that exact quantity of beverage and food figured out, but it was a good idea nonetheless. Matt and I decided it was intensive training for our new Tchoupitoulas challenges. (Matt and I have both eaten huge sundaes at the Creole Creamery ice cream parlor; they constitute of eight fist-size scoops of ice cream, eight toppings, whipped cream, and cherries.) We're going to research other challenging amounts of food in the city and conquer them together.
My mom called. She was not so amused by the church story even though the three of us thought it was "like the best mass ever." Soon after, the other five girls, Peter, David, and Ryanne and Becca's new roommate Tully arrived soon and we started dinner. I could only eat half of my brisket quesadilla, which was delicious and what the waitress recommended and Sylvia ordered also.
We came back here to the apartment to surprise Becca with her cookies and cream cake... topped with oreos of course. I could barely eat a slice, but it was delicious. And then we hung around for a few hours, seemingly shocking Tully with our I suppose offensive collective sense of humor. She's fine though, I'm sure. I decided I liked her when I met her pre-mass, and she was pouring a glass of wine in the afternoon.
Accomplishments for the evening: Matt learned sarcasm, and Stephanie learned the proper use of "po-tay-to, po-tah-to."
At the time, we didn't have that exact quantity of beverage and food figured out, but it was a good idea nonetheless. Matt and I decided it was intensive training for our new Tchoupitoulas challenges. (Matt and I have both eaten huge sundaes at the Creole Creamery ice cream parlor; they constitute of eight fist-size scoops of ice cream, eight toppings, whipped cream, and cherries.) We're going to research other challenging amounts of food in the city and conquer them together.
My mom called. She was not so amused by the church story even though the three of us thought it was "like the best mass ever." Soon after, the other five girls, Peter, David, and Ryanne and Becca's new roommate Tully arrived soon and we started dinner. I could only eat half of my brisket quesadilla, which was delicious and what the waitress recommended and Sylvia ordered also.
We came back here to the apartment to surprise Becca with her cookies and cream cake... topped with oreos of course. I could barely eat a slice, but it was delicious. And then we hung around for a few hours, seemingly shocking Tully with our I suppose offensive collective sense of humor. She's fine though, I'm sure. I decided I liked her when I met her pre-mass, and she was pouring a glass of wine in the afternoon.
Accomplishments for the evening: Matt learned sarcasm, and Stephanie learned the proper use of "po-tay-to, po-tah-to."
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