I went to Philly last weekend to visit my cousin, Hilary. It was a long overdue trip- one that I'm impressed we could schedule, considering how busy we both are.

I got in late on Friday because I locked my keys in my car again (!) and I had to wait for my spare set to arrive. Because of that, I took off late and hit a little traffic around Newark. Oh, Newark, I hate you. You smell terrible. There, I said it.

Friday was for catching up (and really good burgers and pulled pork sandwiches, followed by a drink at speakeasy!), and Saturday morning was for a spin class- yes, I've become one of those people who travel and still work out. Quite amazing, no? We got back to her apartment mid-afternoon, took our sweet time getting ready (which involved trying on ~15 different outfit options), and walked outside to find rain...a lot of rain- sideways rain, to be exact.

After stepping outside and realizing our umbrellas were almost completely useless, we abandoned any idea of walking around, and hopped into Hilary's car, and drove ourselves further into the city, towards the promise of shopping and food.

I love Mexican food. I think I've said that once or twice or three hundred times before, but it's one of my favorite things to eat. Tacos, nachos, burritos, guacamole- I don't care, give me all of it. I said this recently while on a date, and the guy responded with two words: how boring.

How boring! How boring??

I resisted every urge to say, "Well, I'm sorry that your mother raised you as a vegetarian, and you've spent the last 10 years trying to make up for that by eating things like chicken liver." Because, well, I'm trying that whole being nice thing, you know? But I really wanted to say that. I wanted to say that and then turn on my heels and run towards the nearest Moe's.

I'm getting off track.

Margaritas and two words that should always be said together: nacho pizza.

Hilary and I took shelter at a Mexican restaurant called El Vez. We had originally planned to go to place called Tequila, but our reservation wasn't until later, and we found ourselves hungry and in the need of a stiff drink. After spending two hours getting ready, only for our hair and outfits to be ruined with one good gust of wind and rain, we figured we deserved one.

After we ate, we headed across the street to do a little shopping. And by shopping, I mean, we wanted $4 chocolates but needed to hit a credit card minimum, so Hilary treated herself to a new Alex and Ani bracelet in order to do so.

It's all about sacrifice, isn't it?

To further sacrifice our hair/outfits, we walked a handful of blocks in the opposite direction of our car to a place called...wait for it...Big Gay Ice Cream.

I could ring my shirt out by the time we got there. Our shoes were soaked and squeaking as we walked toward the counter. But the ice cream? Oh, the ice cream was so so so so worth it. Even if everyone working there, along with the other patrons, stared at us like we took a shower in our clothes before deciding to go get ice cream.

We debated meeting up with some of her friends later that night, but chose to stay in with beer and pizza (and fries! To quote Hilary, "If there's a minimum, I'm ordering fries." We agreed that will be the title of her first memoir), and watch a couple episodes of True Detective instead.

There's a quote from Maya Angelou that goes, "You can tell a lot about a person by the way they handle three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights."

I think we handled that rainy day pretty damn well, don't you?