I brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack.

I'm just trying to gain a bit of self control with my bacon ranch dip before I can write this post. If it makes you feel any better, I'm dipping peas and carrots into it, not just eating it with a spoon, as I'm positive some of you are thinking I'm doing. I heart carrots a lot. Real carrots. Not water-logged baby carrots. I even take the time to peel and cut up real carrots. That's love. Scoops dips into dip. I felt this slight bit of nutrition was necessary after what I ate this past weekend. Note: weekend eats contained zero nutrition.

It all started on Friday when I was baking BFF bubblegum cupcakes. When I bake, well, anything, I'm a batter-eater. Especially cake batter. If any of you know me, cake batter anything is my weakness. Along with bacon, fried foods, and a few more select items that are anything but healthy. Okay, food is my weakness. I try not to generalize. Anywho, my cupcake baking went a little something like a scoop for the cupcake maker, a scoop for my mouth. *Repeat 24-26 times* I cheated and used store bought icing. I haven't mastered the making of icing yet. Mine always turns out too thick, or too thin, or too sweet (I didn't think it was possible), or too buttery, or too something that is NOT perfection. And I'm all about perfection. In most aspects of my life. Parallel parking not included.

After cupcakes are baked I go to FatBurger for dinner. The hour and a half long wait in traffic (I'll spare you the rant on my hatred for semi-truck drivers and the hassle they cause for everyone else on the road when they [more than likely] fall asleep at the wheel and overturn into a ditch) was worth it for my burger and poutine. I'm sure there's a reason it's called "FatBurger". I'm just not sure I know what it is. *shifts eyes around uncomfortably*

Then comes Saturday. Oh, Saturday. How I love thee. How I love thee even more when I know I'm getting mojitos, pepperoni boot caesars, and a Latin burger. And shots of Jack Daniel's. I refuse to think about it, as the relationship between Jack and I is becoming more and more like the relationship between tequila and I. NON-EXISTENT. After mild harassment from BFF about my cupcake carrier (how else am I supposed to transport said cupcakes to Vancouver aside from holding them in my lap? We all know they would be eaten by the time I got there. Cupcake carrier = BFF's BFF. Trust me.), and a parallel parking incident, and a beer (note: still not a fan. I try so hard.), we make our way to HAVANA!!!!!! I LOVE Havana! It provides oh so many memories, and provides the BEST mojitos! Have you ever had a mojito? Does the combo of lime and mint freak you out? But do you like refreshing drinks? Or giant wooden spoons in the pitcher? Don't just order a mojito from anywhere and think that's what a mojito should taste like. That's wrong. Go to Havana. I'll even be okay with you ordering just one mojito. I understand not everybody is an extremist like I, and orders pitchers or two or four of drinks just because they can.

Havana also has a burger called the Latin burger, that, even though the menu has changed since the last time I was there so the burger was different (we all know how well I do with change), is amazing. It has a beef patty, bacon (obviously), and now a turkey sausage patty (it used to be chorizo sausage). Then it has cheese, guacamole, some sort of mayo spread (obviously), and comes with the cutest shoestring fries. It was better with the chorizo, but it's still delicious. I will still order it. Always.

After Havana is Local. Home of the pepperoni boot caesars. The place that holds my heart. Well, except when creepy middle-aged men try to pick up BFF and I. I sometimes wish that people knew exactly what BFF and I are like together as soon as they see us. But only sometimes. The rest of the time I get excited at the thought of our capabilities to shut someone down and make them feel approximately one inch high when we're together. In my defense, when someone starts talking about when they worked for BC TEL (for those of you who don't know, that's Telus before it was Telus - circa 1976, I swear), that's a good indication of their age. Also, when they find out you're from Abbotsford and they ask you if you know where McCallum Road is, that's another pretty good indicator that they're either a) from a time when McCallum  Road was the only road in Abbotsford, or b) from a time when dinosaurs roamed the earth. Plus his eyes bugged out of his head like his eye sockets were too small for his eyeballs. And he wore a pendant that resembled the Superman logo. Did he think he was Superman? My guess is yes. Anyway, after using his "I just got my heart broken" line, and not getting any sympathy from BFF or I, he put on his tie-dye Adidas jacket and mosied on out.

The night did not go until 6:00 am this time. And I did manage to get the fitted sheet on the pull-out couch this time. BFF even wore pajamas this time! I, however, only half wore pajamas. There is nothing wrong with wearing pajama pants and the shirt from the night before. Even when said shirt has pokey flowers along the collar that stabbed me all night. It wasn't worth the effort to change. I plan on going back May 28th. Does that work for you, BFF? My body has become obsessed addicted in need of accustomed to pepperoni soaked in caesar.

Sunday was spent on the couch. I watched two and a bit movies and finished season 3 of Full House. Then got a text from a fellow inadequate-amount-of-human-contact-that-day friend, and we decided human interaction would be good for us, so we met for cookies slash french fries dipped in a Wendy's Frosty. I bet you can't guess which was mine.