Attack of the bad Mexican food
So in the past week, I've had three experiences with Mexican food that range from disappointing to down right baffling. Monday, I was on my way to meet a friend for coffee, and I only had 15 minutes to grab dinner on the way. I didn't want pizza, so I decided to run into a place called "Taco Express" or similar to grab a quick burrito. I realized after I ordered, that a sign in the window said the restaurant served a "tex-mexi food." A spelling mistake like that should have tipped me off. The burrito was so bad that I ended up just eating the rice and beans out of it. I decided that the place probably used to be a Chinese take-out joint. You know how those restaurants use that really gross chicken but disguise it by deep-fat frying it? The burrito was full that chicken just grilled. It was a mildly traumatic dining experience. So much so that today when I got two chicken tacos for lunch I had trouble eating them because the chicken was low-grade enough that it made me remember that burrito, and then I sort of lost my appetite. And to top it all of tonight, I ate dinner at a pub/restaurant. I attempted to order something semi-healthy (pizza with egg plant and tomato), but they were out of pizza according to our server. So I ordered the nachos on impulse. I always like nachos. Safe option. Wrong. Let's just say that there were carrots on the top of the nachos when my meal arrived. Carrots. I sniffed one, and I think it might have been pickled. I didn't taste it to find out. This is something I could forgive if I was in, say, Ireland. They put corn on their pizza, for God's sake, so it's wouldn't too much of a leap to end up with carrots on the nachos.

Thank you, German people
So some friends made me nervous about the blog search option on Google this weekend. Luckily, I tested it out, and the results for my name are mostly German blogs. Thanks, great-grandpa K. for shortening our ridiculously long Lithuanian name to something more common.

Appropriately Irish
I unintentionally celebrated half-way to St. Patrick's Day on Friday. I went to the Irish Rock Fest at Connolly's, danced around to some quality tunes and flirted with a boy who was visitng from Belfast. I even snagged a free CD. And later this week, I'm registering for some Irish dance classes with Tanya. And in less than two weeks, I actually be in Ireland! I'm starting to get a reputation as the girl obsessed with Ireland, so I might was well do all I can to deserve the title.