I always start my mornings out with a walk, but for the last year I have been doing Japanese walking. If you’re like, “Wow, what kind of a racist bullshit is this bitch on” it’s a Japanese-researched way of walking that is really good for cardiovascular health, and it’s especially good for older people. You walk for 30 minutes in 3 minute intervals that alternate between a slow, casual pace, and a very fast speedwalk like you’re being chased but you can’t break out into a full-blown jog or the bomb strapped to your chest will detonate. I don’t know, I really enjoy it. So that’s how I started my Sunday and this was a patch of flowers in front of someone’s house that made me feel happy so I took a picture. GOD, WHY DO YOU QUESTION EVERYTHING I DO CAN I BREATHE PLEASE.

ANYWAY. Later that afternoon, Henry and I went to Tu y Yo in Sewickley. Originally, it was going to be just a coffee break but then I saw their food menu when I was researching “weekend cafe options” and decided that we’d also be eating lunch there. So, as we’re firmly in the bowels of another disgusting heatwave this week, I am going to mostly let the pictures do the talking from this point on. Oh, why yes, I did bring my Charmera with me, thanks for asking!!!

Forever fangirling + there is my baby Charmera in the background.

Same picture with the Charmera.

 

I am literally the most adorable and entertaining person and this is how he looks at me.

Trying to spell words then gave up, lol.

STILL BORED WITH ME.

This place was really cute. It’s South American cuisine and there was a good bit of veg/vegan options so that’s why I wanted to eat there. It was actually difficult for me to choose what I wanted because…OPTIONS.

Still figuring out Charmera placement for selfies.

Oh, quick aside. I have been awake since around 4:30AM because Penelope was like ATTACK TIME, MOTHERFUCKER and I am starting to doze off at my desk while writing this. I sincerely hope that’s what this is and not my body actually shutting down because I went for a power walk on my lunch break in 97 degree heat for 40 minutes.

Chicha latte! I had to google this earlier before we went because I wanted to know if it was like horchata and I guess so? Some sites say it’s a rice drink, others say corn, one says cassava. But they all say that these things are chewed and spit out and that’s how it made!

“I DON’T THINK THAT IS HOW THEY MADE YOUR LATTE,” Henry sighed, and by they he meant the young white girl working the counter that day, lol. Imagining her squatting down in the back, gathering enough cud in her mouth to flavor my latte. Anyway, it was a good latte! Very creamy, I guess from all that added saliva.

I got the domino arepa! It was filled with black beans and a salty white cheese. I was obsessed with it.

Henry got the special which was two tacos and a coffee and then IMMEDIATELY asked if it HAD to be hot coffee, couldn’t it possibly be ICED COFFEE? The girl’s eyes flickered in fear to the owner who was sitting at a nearby table, doing work, and then said sure. HENRY IS ALSO ASKING FOR EXCEPTIONS AND ACCOMODATIONS.

We also got an order of yucca fries to split, but the owner came over to apologize because she had a migraine and completely forgot to make them so she had only just put them in the fryer right as were finishing our lunch. We were in no hurry and she was so sweet, so we didn’t dock her any points! Also, she stayed at our table for a bit to talk about how she cooked the meat in Henry’s tacos using her mom’s recipe and that part was whatever to me because…meat.

Then some strange family sat next to us with a little boy who was insanely annoying in a very—and I don’t know if this is going to make the journey out of my brain and onto the page with any shred of sense intact—Nantucket way. Like I can see him throwing a fit during a nice after dinner stroll with mumsy and father because he doesn’t like the $20 ice cream he chose. Anyway! At one point, he leaned across the table and stared at his mom in a way that made me feel so gross, like animated butterflies were going to pop out of his eyeballs.

“What?” the mom ask, with the slight vibrato of trepidation.

“Nothing, I just like smiling at you,” he said.

HHHHNNNNNGGGGGGG.

First of all: EW.

Second of all: CHOOCH NEVER SMILES AT ME!

Anyway,  that was Sunday’s cafe adventure that turned into a lunch date, I guess. Who knows with us.

Then later that night, we watched The Other Hell since I just bought the soundtrack on vinyl and now Henry wants to watch ONLY nunsploitation films BUT ONLY from the 70s and earlier.

 

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