So, I've started a new health plan (I don't like the word "diet") for myself, which includes limiting my caloric intake, drinking only one non-water drink per day, and no fast food.
Well, I shot that health plan all to hell on Saturday.
First, I met up with my friend, Mary Beth (who is graduating this weekend and will, no doubt, go on to become a fabulous interpreter), at a volunteer car wash, where I promptly went to Starbucks and had myself a strawberries and creme frappucino (tall, non-fat milk!) to cool down from the 90 degree heat index here in the ATL. I was going to go straight home, but MB had free happy meal coupons and, hey, who can pass up a free happy meal? I mean, come on.
So we ate at McDonald's and I played with my awesome spy watch at the table (it shot little Pog-like discs out with the touch of a button) like I was five years old.
And then, later, Pierce and I went to the Braves game with Jillian, her boyfriend, John, and his brother, James. We decided to meet up with them at the game, and we stopped at The Varsity on the way to grab some amazingly awesome fast food. A word: The Varsity is a practically a historic place in Atlanta and, if you visit, you have no choice but to eat here at least once. I implore you. No, I demand it. It's not just food. It's an experience.
Okay, so anyway, as we were scarfing down our french fries and hot dogs in the car, I said to Pierce (who was driving), "Don't spill that on yourself, babe."
And what does he do?
He spills chili, cheese, and onions all over his lap. Some on his shirt, too.
I felt so bad. He was looking all handsome and was freshly showered, and there is nothing worse than getting ready to go out with friends and ruining your outfit right before you get there. At least, that's how girls feel anyway.
Regardless of our little mishap, I was so happy to have another day to spend with Jillian (two in one month!) since she lives so far away. We had a blast together with the boys, and hanging out with her totally makes up for the fact that the Braves lost.
And for the fact that I blew my calorie count for, oh, I don't know, the whole weekend.
|Happy Meals have a new miniature fry container. Which holds about 3 fries.|
Oh, and maybe I had a funnel cake at the game, too. I blame my husband.