First, I almost forgot how to spell quesadilla. My confusion may come from the fact that I totally forgot that I made these AND I made them back in October (if the date stamp on my camera can be trusted). Or I'm tired. One of the two.
I marinated these chicken breasts in a plastic bag with tequila, lime juice, cayenne pepper, olive oil, and minced garlic for about 4 hours.
I grilled my chicken, then my peppers and onions, in the same pan (so the veggies would pick up some of the seasoning from the marinade).
I topped one flour tortilla with sliced chicken, onions, peppers, and shredded Boar's Head three pepper colby jack cheese (I am OBSESSED with this cheese). Then topped it with another tortilla and threw it on my grill.
We enjoyed these tasty treats with light sour cream, habanero salsa, and homemade margaritas. It didn't suck.
So you're clearly all going to think that I only read really weird books. Or books with dark characters. Or books with murder. Or whatever. And I'm ok with that, because I always let people know that the books I tend towards are different before I make recommendations. I give you the same disclaimer, peeps.
Sharp Objects is good. The characters are interesting (if a little exaggerated in their imperfections) and the setting is well-described and spot-on. I felt a little like Gillian Flynn fought too hard to make the reader go "WTF!" with this one, and so I didn't love it. (For the record, I felt this way about Gone Girl, too, but not as strongly). Given that this was her first novel, though, it was excellent. And her mind must be a VERY dark and twisty place, which is nice for people like me who like dark and twisty (and slightly depressing) things.
The fun-spending ban is still on, and since I don't consider working out to be much fun, I don't consider purchasing this tank a violation.
But a girls' gotta keep herself in shape (for me, to keep myself from going absolutely CRAZY [or crazier than my normal nature]) so bring on the bar(re). Boo.