I just simply heart San Francisco. It is wonderful. Yep - that's how I describe that city: wonderful.
This past week my company hosted a few events in Northern California. Since the events began on Thursday and ended Friday - I could not waste the simple fact that I was so close to the wonderfulness.
My good friend E is getting married and I'm the Maid of Honor. Never have met any of the other bridal party, it was the perfect weekend for good old girl fun.
We shopped. We ate. And we drank. Boy did we ever. And Miss Kate even met up with us for some brunch and yes, more drinking.
It was that more drinking that did me in.
I love breakfast food. More than breakfast food I love a breakfast cocktail. How else can you really excuse drinking hard liquor before noon? Mimosas and bloody marys were all I knew for the a.m. cocktail...until Sunday.
I tried a Ramos Fizz. And the Ramos Fizz tried me.
I was on my 5th one when I decided to ask what was in the drink. First, let me tell you it tastes exactly like an orange julius and I haven't had one of those since middle school, how could I turn up frothy O.J?
Well, when the OJ in question contains run, cointreau, orange juice, nutmeg, and an egg.
Yes - an egg.
But wait that's when I looked down at my brunch platter of the already finished entree of eggs Benedict covered in hollaindaise sauce.
The word egg flipped my stomach over. Let's count this - there are at least 7 semi- cooked/ raw eggs in my stomach.
And I'm drunk.
And I'm getting on a plane in less than 2 hours.
Hungover on a plane (with no entertainment!) is not fun at all.
*Ooh and since I'm in the mood for sharing - Cowboy and I talked on the phone for a little over 3 hours Thursday night when I holed up in the hotel room ;)