Adventures in Chavez

Sometimes when I actually work at home instead of going to school to do work, I get really weird about the fact that I haven't left my house all day.  I would do really bad in solitary confinement.  However, I think Adri would do worse.  Just sayin'.

(Also, but not really related, this is a hashtag free zone.  Because there are fewer and fewer of those left on the internets.)

OK, but anyways.  I was feeling extra adventurous because I have done so very little exciting things this week.  And I went to Chavez.  AKA the Mexican grocery store that you have to drive pretty much extra far to get to, but that is probably a good thing because they have a PANADERIA SECTION.

I grew up on pan dulce.  Pan dulce is like my dad playing basketball with a bunch of his friends on Saturday mornings in the gym of our church and then on the way home there is what seems like an endless supply of fresh, warm, sweet pan dulce.  They had pan shaped like pigs and the pumpkin-filled empanadas that I never see anywhere and the classic kind.

FOR THOSE OF YOU NOT IN THE KNOW: Pan Dulce is literally spanish for sweet bread.  So a panaderia is like a Mexican bakery.

I bought two for myself (my roommate is gluten-free, possibly for the rest of her life, so I couldn't buy a lot because I would eat literally all of them.), but I quickly gobbled the first one up, and only before eating the second one did I think I should take a picture.  It is natural to want to document everything ever, right?  Especially food?

Oh, it reminds you of a turtle?  That's alright, it reminds almost everyone of a turtle.  

That was my breakfast yesterday morning. Better than wheaties, that's for sure.  The real point of this story was to say I bought 60 eggs.  No, that wasn't it!  That was just something that happened that I just told you about for no reason.  (I will be that lady who buys in bulk, probably forever.)

THE REAL point of this story is that all of the people spoke to me in Spanish!  Like I was one of them.  I mean, I halfway am, but all my life I was told that I look white.  And now I am refusing to believe them!  It was like, "Are you finding everything alright?" EXCEPT IN SPANISH.  (sidenote: I get asked this question 9/10 times that I go to the grocery store because I stand staring at everything I buy for like ten seconds before I put it in my basket like I am trying to see into its soul.  I mean, you should really try to get to know they things that you eat, no?) And then when I checked out, the guy was like "hola" and from there the whole conversation was in Spanish and I just about died from Mexican-ness.

Oh, what has my life come to?