ladies' brunch

Last week I posted about being too hungover to cook Indian food... After three long days of working answering phones and watching other people drink wine at the salon and three 10-hour days of being trapped in women's prison (aka cosmetology school), I decided to spend my Saturday night in.

A friend came over and we drank wine, wore Snuggies, ate the world's most legit jelly beans ever created, watched the Taylor Swift Speak Now World Tour DVD, and sat around until we both got our periods. I went to bed at a respectable time and was so excited to sleep in and tackle a day of productivity sans hangover.

Turns out, my body needs the hangover to feel alive...

I rolled around my bed bouncing between my issues of Bon Appétit, my personal collection of my favorites recipes, and the interweb's best food bloggers. 

Yes, this is where the magic happens. And by 'magic', I mean
"the consumption of A LOT of Salt & Vinegar potato chips."

Still, I was helpless to decide what I wanted to make for my lunches for the week. My mind was completely foggy and my usual Sunday morning hungover stomach was craving nothing instead of its usual anything fried in mass quantities with a side of gravy the size of Carnie Wilson's pre-op stomach.

While I danced around to Florence + The Machine's 'Shake It Out' in an over-sized (and probably women's) t-shirt/concubine's dashiki, I was still torn on what to make. 

Then, out of nowhere a blessing came from above. Literally, as I decided to hang up my poly-blend gown, I looked up... From weeks ago, beautiful, delicious Girl Scout Cookies. I 'hid' these from myself to avoid going to bed with a box and waking up with peanut butter and chocolate all over my sheets. I then lounged around in my sleepies eating Tagalongs and waiting for culinary inspiration to strike.

Then another blessing came (via Twitter): an invitation for a lovely Sunday ladies' brunch from my friend/neighbor/occasional hair crash test dummy, Rebecca. Instantly, all of my ideas of cooking and being productive flew out the window.

We started the day at Dream Cafe. It's cute, simple, and there were one or two DILFs that caught our eye. In between Bloody Marys and people watching, we basically sent no fewer than a dozen tweets to one another over the course of the meal. Seriously, we could have eaten at separate restaurants and had the same experience.

Some legit chicken & waffles.

Luck should have it, I didn't need to be hungover to enjoyed this deliciously fried, gravy covered meal and a fun day of no responsibilites and the spending of the little expendable income I take home these days.

Here are just a few highlights of the day and more reasons why I love this girl.

Upon settling the bill for our hot homo mess of a waiter, I calculated what would be a little more than a 20% tip. Rebecca replied: "Was he/she that good?"

While driving to a do little shopping we saw this on the highway:

Rebecca: "I mean how you buy a yellow Scion with a straight face?"

While fighting with her GPS and my useless Siri to find a Sonic for the world's most legit Route 44 Powerade Slush (which she assures me is healthy 'because of all the electrolytes'), a number of amazing songs came on that we jammed out to.

Rebecca: "God! Why isn't this song cooler?!"

When the late Whitney Houston's 'I Wanna Dance With Somebody' came on, Rebecca formulated a Halloween costume she probably considers a tribute... that others might consider borderline racist. "I would have the curly hair, big bow, the tight dress, some dark make up, and a good spray tan!"

So as I finish this post, I am 1) back in my dashiki, 2) only planning on going to the store later for wine, and 3) still clueless on what I want to eat for lunches this week.

Mission: accomplished!