(That bright burst in the middle? It’s over the 20, for twenty years. Forgot to turn off the flash. Whoops! And, if you’re wondering, that most dangerous burrito would be the Ultimate Raging Bull, made with Ultimate sauce, which is made with habenaro–I know I’m spelling that wrong, but spellcheck has no idea what it is—peppers. Only for the very strong, and very crazy, in my opinion.)
Yes, last night we went to the Burrito, which I always love, both for the nostalgia—I worked there for six years, during which time I wrote That Summer, Someone Like You and Keeping the Moon—and for the food. It’s changed quite a bit since those days, most recently with a full remodel. It’s much prettier now, with these lovely leather booths and green walls, seriously classy. Whereas the old Burrito was more ticky-tacky: the booths were all mismatched, and held together with duct tape here and there, the walls covered with Durham Bulls memorabilia and fish sculptures. But it still has the same great feel, and I always find myself getting so wistful for my waitressing days when I go there, seeing all the things that take me back. There’s the walk-in, where I used to shut myself and sob on terrible Friday nights! There’s the iced tea machine I battled with every morning, setting up for lunch! Plus, like I said, there’s the food: last night, I pretty much devoured an entire bowl of queso dip—not to mention endless chips—by myself. Had to drag myself out of bed and go for a long walk this morning for penance, but it was well worth it. Yum.
That’s the nice thing about still living in your hometown. Getting nostalgic is both easy and convenient: I can walk (or drive) down memory lane anytime I want, en route to the grocery store or the post office. Hang a right out of the Burrito parking lot, go a couple of miles, and I can do the same thing on the UNC campus. Ah, memories. I could probably do the entire loop of my life—my parents’ house, my high school, UNC, the Burrito, and back home—in less than an hour. Okay, maybe that’s not nice. Maybe it’s pathetic. I think it might be. Oh, well.
So you know I have to talk about the Idol today. It’s required. Now, I am always hesitant to pick a winner at this point in the competition, mostly because I am ALWAYS wrong. So you Katherine fans will be happy to hear that, after watching last night, I’m picking Taylor to go all the way. Although I will say that Katherine got stuck with the lamer of the two original songs (although, in my personal opinion, they were both pretty bad). The best part of last night, though, for me, was playing find the celebrity. I loved it when they put up a shot that said KATHERINE’S FAMILY AND FRIENDS and there, in the center, was Tori Spelling. Is she really Katherine’s friend? Or was this a mistake? I was dying to know. Also, there was a shot of Mandy Moore at one point, cheering wildly for Taylor, but they didn’t identify her, either. Will I watch tonight, as they drag it out to a close, making us wait until the last five minutes of an hour long show to reveal the winner? Yes. Will I be cursing the TV the entire time for doing this? Yes again. I’m such a sucker, I swear. Next year, I am NOT watching this show. Not the auditions, not Hollywood week, none of it. Instead, I will enrich my life with things that are more stimulating and intellectual.
Yeah. And I’m giving up queso dip, too. Please!