Empandas are glorious.

This past weekend was a whirlwind.  To the extent that I sort of refuse to believe that two actual days just passed.  


Friday night I went to the Reds game with Kate and the boy and then Kate went home and I, of course, went to the bar.  And for the first time in like 3 weeks didn't leave at or before midnight.  So then I was really tired on Saturday and did a lot of really excellent pool napping on Saturday afternoon.  Then on Saturday afternoon we had leftover grilled items and afternoon beers in MD--the boy, the roomie, some of the roomie's friends, and the boys.  So I was doing a really good job of hydrating, when the boys called me out for excessive hydration.  In their defense they had a point, but it was also really hot outside and we had played outside a lot that day, so I wasn't really interested in the validity of their point; I was interested in hydration.  But as I never like to decline a challenge (please say "challenge accepted" in your mind like Ross Gellar right now) I played into the validity of their point and switched from water to beer.  Somewhere between that choice and my arrival to the concert things escalated really quickly.  I was significantly more inebriated than I should have been on Saturday night.  (My Aunt Kath will back me up on this one--I can generally drink a surprising amount.  Just to ground the previous statement.)  I firmly maintained that I was roofied.  In any case, I restored to my normal antics of making people leave the bar early--which really is like 12ish.  But I thought what really might help improve my life was an empanada.  So I hiked all the way to the top of Dupont Circle, took out cash (because the empanada places refuses to acknowledge the 21st century), and hiked back through the circle to get money for said Mexican (?) delight.  And let me tell you:  that was the best.  choice.  ever.  No joke.  It was even better than Ramundo's (pause for appropriate gasp).  I am henceforth making everyone who comes to visit sample an empanda.