It has been made apparent to me that the one thing that New Orleans is lacking is quality Mexican food. And by quality, I mean cheap, greasy, they-probably-don’t-use-vegetables Mexican food. I have had a couple of places in the Boot that are pretty good but there is nothing like Taqueria Rosita. So in response to that, while I was home, I went. Twice. The second time was last night. My deluxe chicken burrito was still delicious.
Post-dress shopping, Amanda, Aleah and I picked up Ben and cruised by the outlets. It was there that an adorable red dress that was displayed in the window called my name. Aleah and I went in and I tried it on. I promptly fell in love with it and bought it, not having an occassion in which to wear it, yet not able to return it to the rack because it was too darn cute.
By then, we had worked up an appetite and picked up The Donald before heading to Taqueria. We also made Donny show us his Olympic Medal. After he gave us lots of candy since he is sponsored by Hershey’s.
Then we went to dine so I could get my Mexican food fix. And I cleaned my plate. And it was a large burrito (none of this baby-size stuff, I wasn’t messing around.)
