survival of the fittest*

my fears yesterday were unfounded. my celebration of st. patrick's day was decidedly low-key and thankfully black-out free. thank gawd. am i growing up?

don't worry, drinking games were still played, but with a local microbrew instead of keystone

but signs of the chi-rish abounded (see above)

instead of looking out over cornfields and over-served freshman, our view was a bit more high-end

after a successful drinking game, in the past we would have moved on to the next bar. but sustenance was in order, and i was famished from having done yoga in the morning, followed by three gumballheads and a handful of goldfish - the breakfast of champions and yogis alike

following a number of restaurant strike-outs (read: we were not about to pay 10 dollar cover for a corned beef sandwich), we settled on the hop haus, where i immediately enjoyed another microbrew (i may be grown up but i'm not above having four beers before lunch - yikes!!!). by this time i was so famished i wanted about 12 things off the menu but of course settled on the tried-and-true favorite, the bleu moon:

put bleu cheese on anything and i'm a happy girl

throw in a pretzel roll and waffle fries for good measure and watch out

after the hop haus roommates and i headed back toward our neck of the woods. the weather was too dreary to continue on our charade (don't let this picture fool you, however. after approx. 6 minutes we grew tired of waiting for the train and took a cab. woops.). but all in all, it was a successful day: i managed to make it out alive, with no hangover, and another new eatery under my belt.

*note the irony of the day and the post: i did yoga followed by a delicious but regrettable calorie-fest. and i spent the rest of the day on the couch watching movies. "fit" isn't the right word to describe my actions. and the only thing that "survived" yesterday was my dignity, as i won't be waking up monday to texts about photos of me in the red eye at some-pub doing the irish jig on the bar. whew.