Happy Birthday, Rachel.

It’s a Friday. “Do  you want to dance?” the dark haired, slightly exotic looking guy says. “Depends. Are you going to make it weird?” I ask, loudly, trying to be heard over the sound of Pravda’s speakers. Maybe it was the couple of drinks I had, or the shot of fireball I insisted we take,…

Empanadas & First Impressions

“That’s Marceline,” I say, mid sip, not even trying to hide my enthusiasm. Our waitress smiles and nods, proudly displaying the small Adventure Time tattoo on her forearm. I muse about Adventure Time for a moment, by far, one of my favorite shows, while trying to detect whether or not the red wine I’m drinking…