But at Least There's Salsa (and my recipe)
By Flower Patch Farmgirl on March 17, 2014
Just so you know, it is possible that you will decide, with what (in your humble opinion) happens to be a tremendous amount of maturity and savvy, to switch bags before your trip to Chicago.You will move all of your lip balms and rando sticks of gum and 13 blue felt-tipped pens, and no less than three list-making notebooks from one messenger bag into another messenger bag, because the other one zips. And you're street-wise like that.You will arrive in Chicago, meet up with your friends and sprawl out across the bed of a hotel to chat for two hours straight because that's just what all the ladies do. And then you will decide you're hungry and you can't wait until dinner.So, you'll walk across the street, then down a flight of stairs, and land in a quaint little European cafe, where the decision between Mediterranean tuna sandwich and cream cheese brownie will feel a bit like splitting the atom, eventually shying away from the sandwich because the word "hoagie roll" conjured up images of New Jersey sailors devouring leaky, overstuffed cheese-steaks on bread as thick as a brick and nearly as dry. . . .
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