When Mondays Turn Into Sundays

Dave and I were talking about it, and we still can't figure out why America hasn't moved to a four-day work week. It'd be like having a three-day weekend every week.

Sunday is usually the day we run errands, mostly because Saturday is spent sleeping in and recovering from Friday. This weekend, However, we partied quite a bit on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Oy.

Friday, after work, we met some buds at Rusty Taco. The veggie taco is good, and the guac is so-so. The beer is pretty cheap, though. It's summer in Texas, and we're getting triple-digit temps pretty regularly now. So, the cold beer helps with the hot sun, but man, Rusty Taco needs to put some fans out for the peeps!

House of England, keeping it real...

From there we went to one of Dave's old watering holes back when he was the Mayor of Greenville Avenue, and long before foursquare started doling out mayorships to any old drunk.

When we walked in, Dave knew at least half the joint, including the bartender, which served us some lukewarm beers. Otherwise, it was a great place to hang out. 

Dave with an old friend from high school.

And after that, we crossed the street to get to the Libertine, which is one of my favorite bars, mostly because of the beer selection, but also because they have some great bar food. I ran into the sister of a knitting friend, and Dave ran into some old bar buddies (of course). From there, we made our way back home. 

Saturday was kind of a blur. Dave suggested we take a long walk in the afternoon heat to "sweat out the toxins." I brought a water bottle with me on the hour-and-a-half trek, which is probably the only thing that kept me from tossing my cookies while jogging down a hill.

Later, we went to a friends' house in North Richland Hills, which is ridiculously far away from us, and yet can be considered in the same vicinity. It's like north Fort Worth. Everyone there had at least two children, one of which had one on the way (Congrats, Rob!). Dave and I, childless as we are, enjoyed several beers and the gracious hospitality of friends. I whipped up a pitcher of mojitos, drank several beers, and was done in by 9 p.m.

The next day, I was beginning to feel the two-day binge twinge.

I did have to do a lot of grocery shopping to do. Thank god for Target and Newflower Farmer's Market.

As soon as I got home, I made ANOTHER pitcher of mojitos!

Sunday night I made Chicago deep dish pizza and waxed nostalgic about our trip to the Windy City (which, I learned, is named as such because of politics, not actual wind [Thanks, Maiden!])



I also made a thin-crust pizza with grilled Calabaza squash and green peppers, onions, and queso fresco. I highly recommend it!

After that, I slipped into a food coma for the night.

We've been watching The Pacific all weekend, and I really love it. It's like getting your history credit and watching a good war flick at the same time.

And today, well, let's not talk about today, shall we? Let's just look at another cool picture from Friday night: