Din-dins

So, remember that Harry Potter pub quiz I was so excited to go to? So excited that I actually changed OUT of my pajamas and LEFT MY ROOM, and convinced two other friends to meet me for a night of fantastic (hehe) trivia and chocolate and we had already decided our team name was the Blast-Ended Skrewts?

Well, I neglected to realize that the quiz was on Monday. On Wednesday.

By way of apology to the girl I so cruelly dragged into the cold with false promises of Rowling-bits, I invited myself over to her house so she could cook me dinner. I'm just that cool a person.

And it was yummy! Gnucchi, bacon bits (largons, if you're classy), mushrooms and spinach in a cream sauce, plus rose wine and cookies for dessert.

Makin' gnucchiesss...

Everything on this plate was cooked in bacon fat.

To wash down the bacon fat...gout, here I come.

Ah eated it all up.

(I don't have any pictures of the cookies because...well...if someone puts a plate of cookies in front of you, are you going to waste time taking a picture of them? I rest my case.)

Then came home, made a half-hearted effort at a paper, and watched cartoons. A good night. And, by my standards, positively wild and crazy (I'm lame). Must dash, off to confront someone about my railroading. I think I am going to use this as a visual aid to convey my distress:

Hearts and giggles,
Katie