Beer, Pogs, & Dance

This is what a girl needs when she has spent the last 4 days battling a sinus infection with unfamiliar medications. This and McDonald's french fries. Yep. We broke down this weekend... Matt and I made our first stop at the Golden Arches de Cartagena {you can see it from our window, it was only a matter of time}. And it was good. Then we kept the familiar trend going by buying some overpriced cervesas at the grocery store. We packed our cooler with our Coronitas, some limes and headed down to the beach. The only thing we forgot was a bottle opener. Matt has had a key chain bottle opener that he kept around since college {actually probably since high school} for occasions such as this one. However, since we don't own any vehicles, he doesn't have his key chain, and he resorted to cutting up his hands using the Coronita bottles themselves to pop the top off.

While beaching it up on Sunday, Matt found a 'Pog' in the sand.  I vaguely recall in middle school, boys {did girls 'play' pogs? If so, I was not one of them} walking around with tubes of circular tokens. I still don't quite understand the 'game'... I thought it was more of a collection of sorts, but Matt quickly educated me on the error of my ways. Then he told stories of playing pogs with Justin Fisher. So Justin, I am not sure if you ever check this blog, but Matt wanted you to know, he found a pog.



Last week at Rumba we had a photo session. No. This one did not end up in the newspaper. 



And because I can laugh at myself, I even included a couple with our sick moves.



Was the title straightforward enough for you?