Drop down and get your Eagle on.

It's very unblogger-like of me to admit this, but I had a rare, awful weekend - one unworthy of sharing here, one I'd rather forget than dwell on. So, instead of giving you the miserable blow-by-blow, I've decided to focus exclusively on the positive things that happened this weekend. It's amazing how your perspective can change when you choose to adjust your focus.

My beautiful best friend came to visit on Friday. She picked me up from work and we spent the next eight hours watching college basketball and barhopping in downtown Indy. It reminded me of our college days when we'd procrastinate by gabbing over dinner after class and it was nothing short of glorious. We started at Kilroy's, where we discussed all things wedding and devoured their infamous breadsticks and tachos (tater tots with traditional nacho toppings AKA heaven), then moved to Tin Roof, where we cashed in some of our trivia earnings for free drinks. Wheat met us along the way and our merry party of three headed to Scotty's for fried pickles, more basketball, and quality time. Once we tired of our bar seats, we moved on to Tiki Bob's, a revolting dive bar with an island theme, before making our final stop at The Eagle on Mass Ave.

The Eagle, a Cincinnati-based fried chicken joint, completely lived up to the hype. I've heard people raving about this place ever since it opened in OTR and I was thrilled to finally check it out. The hip, swanky industrial atmosphere was strangely juxtaposed with communal seating and down-home southern comfort food, but we didn't mind once the food finally made it to the table. Between the three of us, we ordered a half chicken, mac & cheese, horseradish mashed potatoes, biscuits with blackberry jam and honey butter, and french fries with garlic aioli. I'm not sure if we ordered that much food because we love ourselves or we hate ourselves. I'll let you decide.

I thought the star of the show would undoubtedly be the juicy fried chicken. Don't get me wrong - it was absolutely delicious. But for me, the best part of the meal was the horseradish mashed potatoes. I could have single-handedly crushed our entire serving, but my hippie parents taught me to share. Ugh. All of the food had a nice, smoky kick to it and I can't wait to go back and try the other sides we skipped. I'm looking at you, spoonbread and sweet potatoes.

Wheat and I are headed to Dallas this weekend to celebrate his mom's birthday, so I'll see if I can top this southern food with some actual food from the South. Don't worry - I'll take plenty of pictures. I mean, if you don't Instagram your food, did you actually eat it?

...the answer, unfortunately, is yes. Just ask my waistline.