This past weekend some girlfriends and I spent a day eating and drinking coffee. It definitely wasn’t our first day following this theme, but it still held a great note of specialness. I found a cafe that serves coffee in a bowl, not a tea cup. I give it a few days before they know me by name and by what I order. One bowl of coffee is not enough, two is much closer. That’s how they’ll know me; the girl whose body is 78% coffee. Our dinner was comfort food from back home for two of us. Being from Texas, and Christina being from L.A., we take comfort in taco seasoned beef over a layer of rice and corn, and beans topped with avocado, lime, sour cream, and cheese. Delicious! Each dinner we have follows with a more intense than the last food coma. This evening was extra special because we all dove into boxes filled with pictures of our Argentine friend’s past. It’s always shocking to see how far you’ve come from when you were 15. I’m glad it was her box we were looking through and not mine. I need a shovel to dig a hole and burry those.