a weekend in desserts, mainly

Can you say that desserts ameliorate your mood?  These past few halcyon days were spent bouncing from Alicia's apartment (to which I have a key-ish, ha ha) to food to Caribou to food and back.
The ambiance of the coffee shop called for a pom vanilla iced tea latte with apple cinnamon muffin, which I tried to make last during Alicia's two-hour tutor session by picking the top off before scaling the edges with a fork to the apparent amusement of the dude sitting diagonal from me.  As we packed up to go, said dude inquired about the closing time and flavor of muffin I was meticulously devouring.
"Actually, I'm not going to finish it; do you want it?"
"Yes!"
No need to offer three times, I guess.

Later, I primed my sweet-tooth-to-come with a piquant Lindemans Framboise Raspberry Lambic beer that had both a bottle cap and a cork... why?  It was essentially juice.  This was while we attempted to make 4th of July themed jello shots.  Blue jello - it's just so artificial and frightening and sugary... and it tastes exactly like blue (you know).  They didn't set, unfortunately, but this is no surprise given the precipitate manner in which we tried to make them.

The next morning (read: afternoon), what got me through the door was a variegated Bojangles bo-berry biscuit (there are blue and red berries now!  It was so aesthetically pleasing, I can't even... ); the delicious payoff was a two-piece dinner box with cajun rice, biscuit, and sweet tea.  I decided half way through my bo-berry biscuit that it is the perfect snack because it satisfies my often ambivalent feelings when deciding between sweet or savory snacks (Goldfish... or fruit thins?  Triscuits...or dried apricots?  It's a daily struggle that causes me a good deal of vexation).

Our way of celebrating Independence Day on the day of independence was to sear some steaks and unsuccessfully search for fireworks.  Ended up watching the insouciant children chase each other around whilst enjoying a cup of banana cream pie ice cream from Parlour.

Started my Friday by venturing out to Hummingbird Bakery (despite nearly baking to death in my car) where I ordered a soporific meal of a breakfast burrito and breakfast bread.  Breakfast burritos take me back to my childhood in New Mexico [Mexico?!?  No... New Mexico].  Something abut the way nostalgia and dishes will amalgamate in my mind that then makes my cravings ineluctable - there's no going back, and I must have it.  I may vacillate when it comes to quotidian decisions, but I know what I want when I want it.  So once I saw the modest breakfast burrito near the bottom of the breakfast menu, my mind became replete with images of scrambled eggs, oozy cheese, sausages, peppers, chilies, and salsa all snuggled up and tucked within a warm tortilla.  The decision for raspberry crumb cake came once I laid eyes on the display box at the entrance.  In reality, it didn't look any more ostentatious than other bakery display cases; something just kind of took over, and I felt like I deserved to have more dessert.  And a nap.

Snaps for me for chugging a lime Red Bull and sitting in B&N for three hours with a Princeton Review book of vocabulary instead of crawling back onto Alicia's couch.
Another trip to Caribou.

If anyone wants to remonstrate to a second dinner, please stand up.  No?  No one?  To Cholanad we go.  I really just wanted another dessert to round out the Five Guys meal from an hour earlier.

Maybe I can consider myself a hedonist...of desserts?  Maybe this surfeit of food is what is causing these phlegmatic nights of passing out on the couch at 12am whilst watching classic Disney movies?
Opted for a mango lassi... which allowed me to guitlessly order the paneer and peas dosa (with an array of dipping sauces, yay), the leftovers of which I ate after ennui had set in at midnight.

I still had enough leftovers for Saturday brunch on the couch while watching Hercules.  Two of Ginny's brownies, a long nap, and a shower later, we were off to the mall where I managed to stave off torpor and hunger long enough to get a chai tea latte (at Caribou, surprise) and snickerdoodle/vanilla bean frozen yogurt from Yopo next door to feed my apparent predilection for sweets (and cinnamon).
The night time was just an excuse to eat our red and blue (no white/clear layer, sorry) jello shots and drink watermelon pear cocktails, and people finally acceded to go swimming under the stars with me where I almost learned how to dive, debated about the sound of a frog (which was definitely a girl coughing in the verdant woods), and got kicked out by the affable Chapel Hill police officers.

My exigent need for business casual clothes took me to Tanger after a long awaited (nineteen minutes) brunch at Chipotle.  A piece of sagacious advice: don't try to eat leftovers while driving on the highway...

I'm contrite thinking about my prodigal behavior this past weekend.  Such deleterious eating habits that I need to change before they become incorrigible.

Can you tell I'm cram/force-studying vocabulary?

Can you also tell my camera died, and I lost its charger?  Well, now you know.

notes: casually driving with my windshield wipers on full speed and my sunglasses on... weather here is awesome
peach syrup + Lipton = fantastic idea