Today is Easter Sunday. You'll know from my heart-warming piece last year on the various merits of Easter and religious communities just how much I appreciate the holiday. Not much has changed in a year, I'm going to be honest. I went to church (although by myself this year, which shocks and awes many people. Whatever. I'm great company), I laid out in the sun and took a nap, and I dyed Easter eggs*. Except this year I also participated in one of the best rituals of Easter ever: BRUNCH.** Let me explain. Church is great, that comforting company feeds the soul. Easter eggs are also great. Taking a nap in the sun? So great. But nothing in the world makes me happy like brunch makes me happy. When I went and visited my friend in Chicago, we had brunch together everyday. Did it make my trip? It just might have. However, I've come to realize that brunch is applicable only to a very specific set, and its importance to me and my ilk is difficult to define. It's the bougie-est of all meal combinations, hands down. It's hard to put my finger exactly on what makes brunch so special--practically speaking, the timing of breakfast and lunch (together at last!), sometime between 10:30 and 11:30, is sublime. Craving the sweetness of a morning pastry with something a little hardier, a little more reminiscent of the 12 o' clock hour? Brunch has you covered. Brunch also has you covered if you want a magical mix of a mostly refined atmosphere and an overabundance of food. Do you want to send the, "I'm-snooty-enough-to-make-up-my-own-meal-and-say-haughtily-"let's brunch",-but-also-trashy-enough-to-just-want-an-excuse-to-sleep-in-and-have-my-eggs-Benedict-and-eat-it-too,-and-drink-in-the-morning" vibe? Brunch will never do you wrong.

That's where I found myself this morning. It's funny, I wasn't really in a prayerful mood until my sweet potato and duck hash arrived on top of cornbread waffle. Leave it to brunch to bring the real, "He is Risen, Indeed!" out of me. In fact, Easter brunch put me on a high that not even Reese's Pieces could compete with--later in the day, when I headed out for my run, it was like something out of cartoon. The sun was shining, birds were singing, kids were running along with me, I brunched today!

Forty minutes later, however, I was sitting in the grass cursing all of creation and wondering if this is what dying by dehydration felt like. Not even brunch could cure that. Not even Easter Brunch. Probably not even God Himself. So what. Call me a blasphemer. It was so hot out there. You have no idea. Anyway. A Happy Easter to all, and to all a good night.

xoxo, Lauren

*I may or may not have also done this alone, depending on who you ask. In my opinion, I had plenty of company. My Mom sent me a fuzzy chick in the mail (along with an extraordinary amount of chocolate. Now you see why the run had to happen) and I had him on the table with me. So. Hopefully those same rules apply to drinking...21 is rapidly approaching. I need a game plan. And a definitive answer on what "alone" really is. **Recently (and by recently I mean last night) a friend and I were debating whether or not Easter Brunch is a thing, because some people were questioning "Easter brunch" like it wasn't. The answer is yes, it is a thing. Easter Brunch is a sacred, time-honored ritual. Maybe only among a certain set, but hey. What's the harm in living above the fray?