Necessito trabajar en Toledo

Today, I failed at Spanish as I mistakenly self-identified as a lady of the night; I confused the verbs trabajar (to work) and viajar (to travel). I think it’s the whole alliteration thing. Trabajar should definitely mean “to travel”, just FYI creators of the Spanish language. In any event, Nancy and I were rushing to catch a train to Toldeo for our day trip excursion to purchase snow globes and knives, and we had to board multiple public transportation vehicles quickly to make the 8:30 am outbound Renfe to Toledo. We were frantic on the streets of Madrid and turning in circles. I finally spied a late twenties something janitor (who really should be an underwear model) and figured he would be our gatekeeper to our Renfe information. As I approached him, I offered “Hola, necessito trabajar a Toldeo en train. Donde?” He grinned and discreetly corrected my inappropriate verb choice, “Ay, va a Toledo?” “Si, si…vaaaa” I replied. It was only after walking past 3 slimy guys who invited us to sit at their table and Nancy’s comment “You wear a short skirt and they think you are a prostitute” that I realized while they may not have, the janitor had no choice. When someone tells you that they are a dentist, you don’t question it. I, however, claimed a different career. At least he didn’t respond with “Cuantos?”

We took a pic of me in action In Toledo; I was looking for a John in front of the Jewish stomping grounds.

Shopping mishaps

Nancy (my traveling partner/friend/tutor/ a million other titles) and I started yesterday's adventures in Madrid at the Museo del Prado. Upon our entrance, they saw my laptop (Matilda the Macbook) in my bag and asked me check it in a coatroom. I had taken my beach bag into town, a purchase from Walgreens made for $5 over a year ago, so I could carry a myriad of tools to assist us on our journey. Well, we were sneaky and pretended to check my computer in the room off to the left, but we really dodged into an elevator and fled the security guards. They didn't seem to care, but my bag sure did! About 10 minutes into museum exploration, my bag ripped under my laptop's weight! I spent the next 3 hours of artwork admiration with my hand on the bottom on my bag, coaxing my belongings to stay put. It was awesome!

After the museum, we were walking around Madrid on the hunt for gifts to bring back for all of you and we decided to take a risk and explore sans map. We have ventured into the city a few times now, but in all cases were we under the supervision and guidance of knowledgeable residents. In other words, we were being brave by going it alone!!

Now, as all women know, shopping makes us verrry tired and verrry hungry, and Nance and I were over Spanish cuisine. We made a very important choice between McDonald's and Burger King; the policeman we consulted for directions agreed with our choice. On the way to find Burger King, I spied a TopShop. This is a store I have read about in many magazines and celebrities always rave about its affordability and array of choices.

After lunch, we tried to retrace our steps and check TopShop out. At this point, I am still holding my bag together and it continues to tear. I finally decided to carry it upside-down. I felt like I was with child; a big, disfigured, black and pink child with useless straps. After about 45 minutes, we still weren't having any luck finding the shop so we decided to check out some of the other stores. As we made our way down a row of them, we happened upon the Holy Grail! It sparkled and shone with such elegance! We nearly floated in and immediately began to peruse the merchandise. Many stores here are built vertically to conserve space, so there are multiple small floors.

Okay, so we weren't impressed with the first floor, but there were still two others remaining! No big deal!!! We eagerly climbed the steps to the second floor. We found ourselves thinking (as we held the fabric): "Well, maybe if this were longer, shorter, with less bows, with more design, had fewer bedazzled jewels, in a different color than our highlighters," and so forth. As you can imagine, the third floor was even more disappointing and, with heads bowed in defeat, we began our descent from the final story. All of the sudden, Nancy starts chucking and looks at me. She exclaims "You know, this is like having a crush on a boy for three years, then finally sleeping with him, and finding out he is terrible in bed!" I started howling in the store and the two of us proverbially collapsed into giggles as we swiftly made our exit. In the end, TopShop gave us exactly what we needed. Thank you, Vogue.

Five hours later, I am still with awkward child and she continues to become more awkward, so we find the nearest tourist shop and I pluck a khaki colored tote bag from the wall. I decide that I should revel in my tourist status and I pick the most conspicuous design. I am now the proud owner of a MADRID-MADRID-MADRID-MADRID bag. The pattern repeats itself somewhere into infinity and I am positively glowing, despite the knowing disapproval of the residents who thought my bag was ugly to begin with.

Adios, mis amigos!

Happy birthday, Mr. President

Well, friends...I finally had my moment of fame. As we were exploring Madrid yesterday, I was taking in the sights and completely consumed by the beauty of the architecture. It was a hot summer day in Spain and I welcomed a burst of cool air on my face as I crossed the air vent. What I didn't realize what that this refreshing mist not only grazed my face, it also lifted my dress...TO MY WAIST! I am standing in a busy intersection with security guards, local riffraff, vendors, diners, tourists, etc and I probably called even more attention to myself because I began to shriek! I quickly gathered the fabric and darted off the vent. Needless to say, the damage had been done.

When I posted this event on my facebook page, one of my friends made fun of me and then posed the question: "Well, you were wearing underwear, right?!?!"

Girl, I pulled a Marilyn, NOT a Britney! I took a pic of the cursed vent and will post that tonight.

Let's see if I can stay out of trouble in Segovia; I wore jeans just in case. :)

So, now I am posting 2 photos; one is of the infamous dress and its owner doing ballet in front of some fancy building, another is the damned vent. Take a gander, will you? It didn't look like a bully to me, either. Curses!

No sleep till...Mojacar!

Naptime

This is going to be a super short blog since I am falling asleep as I type. I spent last night at a fiesta in Mojacar and spent the wee hours of the morning in the Mediterranean Sea watching the sunrise. We took a nap at 9 by the pool (I am in the gray shirt; not the naked chick in the grass!) and it´s back out to see Espana. Ay dios! Buenos noches!!

Mojacar sunrise-photos complements of Nancypants

Today I did these things en Espana

Today I...

bought a sundress at a market

bought Coca-Cola Light at a supermercado

won a free 6 pack of beer sin alcohol (useless)

collected rocks at the Mediterranean Sea for my jasmine plant back home

inhaled secondhand pot smoke at the beach

marveled at topless sunbathers

took pictures of Nancy taking pictures in Mojacar and Mojacar Beach

ate a waffle at a pre-fiesta celebration-holy yumyums

ate 2 donuts at the family bakery because Venessa's family thinks I have an eating disorder

ate more lunch (pollo asada) and pushed my meat to Venessa's plate when she wasn't looking

relished in my Subway refill of Diet Pepsi (they don't offer free refills here-wah!)

commiserated with a Brit about our thyroids (or lack thereof)

ate Cream of Mushroom chips (weird)

took a freezing shower because hot water is MIA

wanted to buy a Frauda (fake Prada purse)

tried communicating in Spanish and didn't fail too terribly

got better at understanding the art of the euro

saw a club (Spanish whorehouse) but did NOT visit

thought about purchasing art

gave Venessa's little sister, Rosie, a makeover and...

LOVED SPAIN!

So they think I am anorexic

Blog 2: Almeria, Spain

Last night we dined on tapas.  I explained to Venessa upon arrival in Spain that I had learned to say "Soy vegetarian" for a reason and that I will be observing this lifestyle so people won't need to  bother about the particulars of what I will and will not eat.  

It will NOT be this (pig's feet and snails).

We're sitting at dinner and Venessa keeps asking me "Will you eat this (fish) or that (pork)?"  "VENESSA, NO!" I calmly mutter.  Her sweet sister-in-law, Ana, thinks I am sick.  "Tu enferma, Chi-me?"  They order me an ensalada and it comes with tuna on top.  Venessa asks again if I will eat this.  "Ay dios, no gracias.  Vegetables solamente POR FAVOR!"  Finally, a plate of tomatoes, onions, olives, and olive oil is placed in front of me and I order some pan (bread) to complement my perfect meal.  Everyone thinks I am going to die because I only had bread and vegetables for dinner, so elaborate meals for the following day's lunch and dinner are prepared in my honor.  Christmas!  I don't want to offend anyone but I am also not willing to consume pig eyeballs.  I told them I don't eat pork because I am Jewish; I think this is half true, but I am not sure which half.

Ana works at the bakery and made me eat 2 donuts this morning so I wouldn't faint.

Yummm, donuts.

Blog 1: Espana

It’s a long one, kids. Get your readin’ hats on.

Hour two into the 7 hour and 44 minute flight and I am antsy. Antsy next to Nancy. I am allegedly watching Last Chance Harvey with Dustin Hoffman on the little screen tacked onto the back of the chair in front of me, but I am really only listening to my movies and watching Nancy’s movie, Revolutionary Road. I have seen her movie twice before (once this past week) and I am electing to watch hers over mine. The depressing foray into the American “dream” is more appealing than this nonsense about some dodo father who regrets his life decisions: broken marriage, dissatisfactory career, and absent parenthood. I am not certain why all of the complementary movies offered aren’t about rainbows and ponies; isn’t that what we want to experience on vacation?? Of course, perhaps some of us traveling are here on business, but they probably want to see prancing unicorns, too. And what’s with this peanuts business? Where is my large tub of popcorn and my football sized peanut m & m’s? Pout.

Alright, fine. My life could be a whole lot worse right now. I am headed to Spain for two weeks in a bum economy to play. See? It’s these damn movies! Iwanttowatchbunniesandfroggiesandkittens RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW.
(Insert stomping four year old)

I have been trying to think in Spanish in preparation for our trip, so when my feet are dancing their antsy fancy prancy taps in perfect synchrony, they dance to flamenco. Of course, I am completely unfamiliar with that music, and it is likely my version of flamenco sounds more like Taco Cabana (that’s a fancier Taco Bell for those of you not in the know) background music. The drink carts have passed twice now, I have a complementary Financial Times, ear buds (headphones), and a sleep mask. I am actually missing my mom’s travel care packages she used to prepare for her three children to occupy us on plane rides and car trips. An avid cross word puzzler, she used to have three sets of children’s game workbooks, coloring books, fresh crayons, animal crackers, and so forth. I packed about 5 different books for myself, but I am longing for Mad Libs and markers. Meh!

Okay, I have a better disposition now. New in Town with Renee Zellweger is better than Last Chance Harvey and the film takes place during the winter holidays in Minnesota. I realized somewhat recently that I love Christmas. In fact, my latest exclamation is “Oh, Christmas!!” Worst Jew ever, I know. I fully intend to get a Christmas tree this year and I hope that Skylar doesn’t eat it or pee on it. She has never seen a Christmas tree, as you might have imagined, and the way she’s been hanging out in the clothes dryer lately one can never be too sure.

So this next bit is intended to be tongue in cheek…nothing is really going to happen obvi, but in the event that it does, here is my will and testament.

I would like to bequeath Skylar to Bobby. He wants a dog, and I know she’s neither Corgi nor Collie, but she likes him. She even gave him kisses, which is a pretty big deal. If Bobby rejects my perfect angel, Jameson and Jazzy can arm wrestle for her. He may also have all of my hair accessories to make his ponytails fancy and fun!

I would like to bequeath my sister to Jeremy. No funny business, sir. Just take care of her and proofread her papers and laugh at her jokes. Also, make her peck your outstretched arm every once and a while, and host Spot the Dog video viewing parties a few times a year for good measure. Oops, Ash...guess you know now. ☺

I would like to bequeath my new pottery plate to my mom. I feel as though I owe her a craft present, since she hasn’t received one since 1987 and I recently painted a piece for a friend’s birthday party (the lovely Caelie). It’s green and it has purple flowers. Some might mistake it for a Monet, so I signed the underside of it just to clarify that it’s a Jaimie original. I am sure it is worth at least 45 cents.

I would like to bequeath my pending doctorate to my dad. And the approx $63,000 in student loans associated with it. ☺ I trust that he can resume where I left off. I have Correlation and Regression this summer, pops, so good luck with that. I think it’s about statistics. You also have to teach 3 courses and take 3 courses this fall. Sorry, you cannot play the card game Solitaire while teaching, nor can you fill other professors’ offices with trinkets from the Oriental Trading Company catalogue. You may, however, add a small fish tank with a few Adam Goldbergs on my desk.

I would like to bequeath my textbooks to John Maynard. I think I still have one or two of his books and I can’t tell his from mine anymore…so just take all of them. Try to ignore the Mrs. Jaimie Pitt doodles in the margin.

I would like to bequeath my rollerblades to myself, circa 1992.

I would like to bequeath my President of the New Kids on the Block Fan Club title to my sister. I trust your judgment and I know you’ll come to your senses and realize that Jonathan is the most talented member. You may also be sworn in as the new Jacob Black fan club founder. Finally, you will need to sell craft stick houses and friendship bracelets in the park near our house to really embrace our childhood. About once a year, you have to “run away” down the street with a bag of mini bagels and three pairs of undies. Don’t forget to take my imaginary friend, Keisha, for protection. She knows karate and her favorite color is pink.

I have an ACL ticket, 2 U2 tickets and a Counting Crows concert ticket up for grabs. Danielle, I think you deserve these. I apologize for making you miss the Bryan Adams concert at the Paramount earlier this month, and I am certain you will be forced to forgive me when you are standing on the downward slope of the lawn seats when Dave Matthews performs at ACL. I hear a few New Yorkers might make the trek down for the 3-day festival, one of whom who doesn’t know how to use proper facilities when reliving himself. Wear a poncho, you’ll be fine.

I would like to bequeath my music collection to my brother, Phillip. I trust that you will make an excellent mix tape for some lucky girl someday, but you can’t punch her in the arm after you create it. Girls unrelated to you don’t like that. You are also the newest member of my Austin Sport and Social League co-ed kickball and soccer teams in my place. Do me proud and try to beat my all-time record of one goal scored all season.

I would like to bequeath my plants to Meaghan. You have done an exceptional job at keeping them happy, and I was really excited to see that my oleander has sprouted pink flowers in my departure. I think good ole Olea might like you better anyhow.

By the time you read this, I should be running around the streets of Espana! Adios, mi familia y amigos. Muchos besitos y abrazos. Hay un pollo in mi zapato. Tengo una cita con Anita. El burro sabe mas que tu. Me llamo Jaimie, soy de Tejas. Me gusta la playa; donde esta el bano o biblioteca? Quiero Taco Bell.

____________________________________________
Failed # of attempts at sleep: 1

So, this complementary sleep mask business turned out to be hilarious to me. The minute I put it on, I started giggling. I felt like I should cut out eyeholes and become a super hero. Captain AirFrance, perhaps? Evidently, I am to be doomed with this jetlag thing. It sounds like a myth to me; an old wives tale old wives told their unruly children. “You best be shuttin your eyes, kids, or you’ll get the JETLAG!” I think it’s the equivalent to herpes in the skies, but I can’t be sure. I am considering watching Marley and Me to cry myself to sleep at this point. I think it’s roughly 4:30 am Spain time. Ugh. I seriously doubt my inability to sleep can be attributed to the two dinners I ate, plus 3 bags of peanuts. I am terrified of Spanish cuisine, so I am thinking like a bear and going into hibernation mode upon arrival in Madrid. I should have accumulated enough food to last me 3 days. After that, who knows?!?!

Um, so snafu # 1, my passport is nowhere to be found. I am currently apprehended in the aeropuerto in informacion. Bueno! Luckily, the nice lady behind the counter let me use her cell phone and I was able to call Venessa and keep her appraised of the situation. Only me. Venessa is grabbing our luggage (hopefully) and Nancy is waiting patiently. I am working on about 45 minutes of sleep and try very hard not to freak out. Unlike the recent Dave Matthews concert experience, this may actually NOT be funny in three days if I am re-routed on a US-bound plane. Christmas. Or, more accurately, bah humbug.

Okay, it’s kind of funny now. I will write about it later. ☺

Dave Matthews encourages crashing into me, not peeing onto me

So, tonight's Dave Matthews concert was eventful, to say the least.  The Krause family is in the northeast for the week and we attended the DMB concert in Saratoga Springs, NY.  We arrived at 12:30 for a 7:00 show and proceeded to pre-party for a good 6.5 hours.  We were concert-going in celebration of my sweet cousin Alyssa's 21st birthday.  She will always be 7 to me, so it's weird to see her do adult things.  In other news, I am fairly certain I consumed my weight in cookies and chips.  I digress.

There was frisbee tossing, dizzy bats (we have a video of this), and beer pong.  I am continually shocking myself with my poor athletic prowess these days, and frisbee offered no respite.  It rained most of the day and the frisbee was covered in mud.  So, after about 5 minutes of tossing with my brother, I counted about 7 mud streaks on the backs of legs, arms, and otherwise clean t-shirts of passers-by.  Dizzy bats is a delightful game where a whiffle ball bat's bottom enclosure is removed and filled with a beer.  The batter must consume the beer as quickly as possible, and the onlookers count the seconds it takes for the beer's consumption.  Then, the batter must bend down and touch his or her forehead to the tip of the bat and spin in a circle for as many seconds as it took them to finish their beer.  Finally, the batter must enter a "ready to hit" stance immediately after completing said rotations so that the empty beer (already squashed into a makeshift ball by a generous fan) can be pitched to the batter.  This game requires much more talent than one might think.  It is very difficult to stand up straight after chugging a beer and spinning, much less gain the capacity to see straight to hit a "ball".  My brother swiftly missed the beer can and performed a little consolation lap around all of the fans.  It was comical and I nearly fell into the same pile of mud my poor frisbee found multiple times.

Finally, it was time to enter the concert grounds and the 15 of us all shuffle and find an empty space of lawn.  My resourceful sister thought to purchase plastic ponchos and the under-prepared individuals (myself included) were very thankful to have a barrier between the mud and themselves.  I spent the majority of the show singing, dancing, taking ridiculous photos, wondering why Dave Matthews never sneezed, which led me to wonder why I have never heard a rock star sneeze on stage before, and so forth.  Now, get ready for it; here's the ohshit! moment: Time travel back to two-thirds of the way through this concert with me.  Ashley (my sister) and I are standing on the decline of the lawn hill and singing Ants Marching.  All of the sudden, Ashley turns around and says "What the f_ _ _??!!?!" and hits this kid in the chest.  Before I could inquire what happened, I felt a warm stream of liquid on my foot.  I look down and notice that this kid's weiner is outside of his shorts.  It was that moment I realized that Ash and I had just been the recipients of his urine stream.  I turned around and parroted Ashley's "What the f_ _ _?!?! but I added a "d bag" and a few other choice words for him.  People around us (his friends included) slowly start to realize what has happened.  The best part is that the peeing piece of shit is completely denying his crime as he is zippering his shorts.  My sister's hand and dress were speckled with his leakage and my foot still displayed the evidence.  His friends immediately begin to apologize while he continues to deny the episode.  I argued with him for a minute or two and told him to get lost before I punch him in the face.  I capitalized on my acting skills because (as you might have guessed) I am bubbling over with giggles inside of me.  I feign a furious stance and his friends shield him.  I turn to Ashley, who is absolutely fuming with wrists curled into fists and I try to make light of the situation.  "This will be hilarious in three days" I promise her.  

As I am consoling my soiled sibling, my brother notices that the urinator is flicking his sisters off.  He turns around and says to him "I am a Navy Seal and I will kill you.  Get the hell out of here right now."  The dodo hides behind a few of his friends, but remains in our sights.  The inside joke behind this is that my brother has been inventing convenient careers through the trip.  He was a Harvard educated biochemist, an MIT engineering student, and an international financial analyst God, so his Navy Seal proclamation made me laugh even harder.  Still, Ash and I spent the rest of the time trying to join the happy energy of the concert, but it was useless.  I finally got Ash to start smiling as the last song was being performed.  

On our way out of the park, we kept coming up with all of the best comebacks we should have employed had we been prepared for this.  Ashley was finally able to join in the laugher and came up with a few responses of her own.  However, my favorite one, by far, is credited to my brother who says, "I should have said nothing.  I should have walked 2 feet uphill, stood behind him, and peed on him."  When the kid turns around to protest, my brother would have shrugged it off and denied the whole thing whilst zipping up his pants.

It is 1:00 am and Ash practically ran into the shower, dress and all, while I (your dedicated blogger) stayed to report this ground-breaking event to you.  It is my turn to now de-germ.  Yawn.  Maybe tonight I will get some sleep.  I have seen Dave probably 5 times now, but this is my first golden shower at the show.  

<3

Dance Magic Dance

Ugh-I am about to pull an all-nighter for no reason; just can't sleep.  Man!  Well, I will take this time to complain about my recent Facebook quiz.  I answered questions to learn which Labyrinth character I most resemble, and I AM THE FREAKING BOG OF ETERNAL STENCH!

Jaimie completed the quiz "Which Labyrinth Character are You?" with the resultYou are the Bog Of Eternal Stench.

You are a force to behold. All who know you fear you and your mystical powers. Your stench is strong & all conquering. 

Now, I do appreciate various friends' efforts spent trying to make me feel better.

Some examples:

Caelie Dunn:You are a force to behold and your stench is strong. I think the quiz is right.

Lauren Marie Kotch: Jaimie, that is so funny. Sorry, but somebody has to be the Bog of Eternal Stench. Wear it with pride, girl.

Chris Friend: wow, that stinks...literally

In the end, my sister was deemed Hoggle, and my dad and brother were both Sarah.  Horse-shit!  Ash and I even tried to rig the questions and we still both came out as our previous characters.  Lame.

Happy birthday...

to my perfect boyfriend. :) Love, Jaimie and Skylar

Vacay with the Krause family

So, many things happen whilst on vacation with your family...

You consume exotic cuisines sampled from the region's finest restaurants.

You revert to a childlike state.

You go osprey watching.

                               

You pretend you went to fancy colleges and visit your famous relatives. You also look autistic in photos if you are me, which is not a great sell on the fancy college campaign.

        

          

                                              

You try to squeeze in exercise when you  can after enjoying said culinary treats

.

And you are on your best behavior. Always.  

(insert photo of Jaimie misbehaving here)

Note to reader: I think it is probably an act of divine intervention that this photo refused to upload. :)

Should've gone to medical school

In preparation for my 3 week long trek to my homeland (I am a Yankee by conception, a Floridian by birth, and an Austinite by choice), I am packing.  Now, you may not know this boys, but sometimes girls try on outfits when we pack.  I, however, dress by mood, so it is difficult to pack for travels because I don't know how I'll feel at any given time.  This means that packing is also an acting class.  "And scene...you have just gotten into an argument with ___, you are frustrated and naked.  You choose ___ to wear."  This is what I do; I create scenarios and select outfits accordingly.  The only problem is this: what if I imagined feeling excited in the winter for my scene and packed a brightly colored sweater for a summer trip?  I need to think feelings and seasons, so it's all very complicated.  I digress...

I should have gone to medical school.  "Why, Jaimie?", you ask.  "Science was never your forte and you hate the sight of blood."  Yes, yes, all true but I would have been a great surgeon.  Exhibit A: whilst packing a bathing suit, I pick out a green speckled bikini I haven't worn since 3 boyfriends ago.  I thought, "Why not?!?  Viva Espana!"  As it happens, the string from the triangle top somehow wiggled it's way outside of it's home and it was sitting isolated and afraid in my bathing suit drawer.  

Because I have exceptional bedside manner, I beckon, "Do not fear, little string.  I will help you find your way back to where you belong."  And so, I sat and considered the tools at my disposal.  After donning my surgical sterilization outfit, I gather my MacGyver-like tendencies and embarked on a scavenger hunt around my house.  Oversized paperclip, check.  Tweezers, check.  With virtually no experience in bikini surgery, I plunged in.  I coaxed that little string back to it's home about 3/4 of the way with the extended oversized paperclip.  I then called upon my tweezers for assistance to widen the entrance so I could deliver the string the rest of the way.  Everything was going fine until I heard the vitals dropping.  Mayday, mayday.  It's stuck!  It won't move!  "Now what?!?!" I panicked.  Skylar was no help.  I managed to stabilize the bikini for now, so we are in better shape.  The prognosis looks good (whew!), but I am considering consulting a specialist at this point.  Any takers? 

Not so wise

They finally caught me.  I have been on the run for about 3 years now and it looks like I am cornered.  The evidence is stacked against me and my alibis are no longer valid.  From whom am I running, you wonder?  It rhymes with aural sturgeon and he wants to rob me of four entities that I don't so much as need or want, but I also don't want him to have them.  It's akin to a typical playground scene where the little boy isn't using his blue shovel, but he also doesn't want the little girl to have it, so he throws a fit.  It's like that, and I am that little boy.  I practically stomped out of the dentist today!  

In addition to my stubbornness, I have never undergone any surgical procedure and the thought of someone sedating me and tearing four teeth from my mouth is horrifying!  I have nightmares of being paralyzed physically and cognitively aware. Ugh-what happened to the tooth fairy days and what does this mean when my wisdom teeth are removed?  Will the tooth fairy re-appear and present me with a Porsche?  It's only fair.  I will enclose a picture so the tooth fairy knows exactly what I would like:

Swirll me up, buttercup

Ah, yum.  Just took the last bite.  I was thirsty in downtown Austin after an afternoon of errand running, and so the natural inclination was to eat!  I blame it on Swirll, the delectable fro yo establishment on The Drag (Guadalupe St @ UT campus).  Holy Christmas, that place is amazing.  You are offered an empty Titanic-sized cup with which you are to fill with 12 different flavors of yogurt and about 30 different toppings, including candy, fruit, and cereal.  Today, I went for the mango-white chocolate macadamia nut-peanut butter-peach combo with cookie dough and Reese's Cups.  I know what you are thinking and NO, I am not pregnant...but they practically force you to try a million different flavors and I couldn't wimp out on my first time.  Go hard or go home, right?!?  I purchase $4.22 of sweet, sultry, velvety nectar and consumed it Conehead-style (in approx .45 seconds). 

Numnums, for serious!  If you are unable to locate me this summer, check Swirll.  My head will be placed underneath the mango yogurt dispenser, mouth ajar.