I finally ate at la famosa Taquería Lopez last night with Georg and Sarah. Yum. I decided to order tacos because, hey, taquería. They were awesome. Next time I go I'm going to try one of the platillos because Sarah's carnitas en salsa verde looked so good. When it came time for dessert I thought I could use a sweet tidbit, so I ordered churros with cajeta, thinking I'd get a little plate with maybe two churros on it. Instead they brought a platter with six churros and mounds of whipped cream. I ate two and forced Georg to eat a couple but Sarah wouldn't have any. So I brought a couple home and tonight I'll try an experiment in finding out whether they are any good after a day in the fridge. I'd love to go back tonight because a) yum and b) there will be mariachis and I love me some mariachi music, but I've got a few things to do and besides that I have no dining partner(s).
At some point in the conversation the topic turned to dogs, and I usually feel like a dork when this happens because I never shut up once I start talking about dogs. Fortunately G and S graciously indulged me, but I've been at parties when I can tell the person I'm talking to is trying to edge away from me after somehow me started talking about flyball or agility. I must be the dog-person equivalent of the dweeb who can't stop talking about multi-user role-playing games. I need to come up with some other areas of expertise so I appear less geeky, I think.