Check out this article from Gourmet....
My first thought is that our part of the country may be better at this than the Manhattanites and West Coasties who are commenting on the article. We have a supper club, and I know at least one of you girls does as well - and the ladies brunch is alive and well in our circle.
BUT, I have been thinking for the past six months about launching a practice of the true dinner party as described in the article - not just hosting our supper club group, who all know each other and all bring a dish. It just seems sort of daunting, and I wonder if the people I would invite would find it completely odd. But maybe this is my cue.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Dibbs: Flaming Liberal
I totally know I'm snobby about my co-workers. I assume they can read my mind thinking, "Yeah, I eat at places with one name; you eat at Mexican joints in strip-malls. I shop in boutiques; you shop in the South End mall." Yada, yada. It's an unpleasant fact of my existence, but I must face it.
Today I remembered one of the more flattering, to me, differences. We were talking about children's movies. I was all left out. I asked if "Tangled" was good (Thanks, Twinkle.) One of the women said her husband didn't even mind it. That sequed into me saying I made my dad read "The Help."
Blank faces. No one knew "The Help." I repeated it, as if that would jog their memories. More blank faces. I said, "Well, y'all better hurry up and read it, because it's going to be a movie this summer." They wrote it down. Then...I ruined it. "It's about the Civil Rights Movement in Mississippi." Screwed up noses, like something smelled bad. Oh, yeah, I forgot where I was.
Today I remembered one of the more flattering, to me, differences. We were talking about children's movies. I was all left out. I asked if "Tangled" was good (Thanks, Twinkle.) One of the women said her husband didn't even mind it. That sequed into me saying I made my dad read "The Help."
Blank faces. No one knew "The Help." I repeated it, as if that would jog their memories. More blank faces. I said, "Well, y'all better hurry up and read it, because it's going to be a movie this summer." They wrote it down. Then...I ruined it. "It's about the Civil Rights Movement in Mississippi." Screwed up noses, like something smelled bad. Oh, yeah, I forgot where I was.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Julep: In which I ponder the shower.
Y'all know I am a devout adherent of the Dibbs Anti-Shower Manifesto, freeing us from the tyranny of afternoons spent wearing pantyhose to sit around the living room of some woman you've never met who works with your friend's mother, emptying out your purse to win the game du jour, trying not to say anything eyebrow-raising to your friend's future mother-in-law, and watching your friend unwrap box after box containing one piece of her sterling flatware. Baths forever, showers never!
That said, last week I was advised as to two upcoming showers, and I am on the horms of a dilemma. One of the prospective showers will be a family affair. Pilot and War Bride are going to be at home for a week this summer and my aunt wants to plan a baby shower. I am dearly fond of my family, but almost certainly going to skip this one. First and foremost, I'd like to continue success in the battle against bitterness that this child is pregnant and I am not. On a more practical note, this prospective event has AWFUL written all over it. The median guest age will be in the very early 20s, if that. You know there will be games. I won't put any money on the presence of alcohol - even if it's there, there won't be enough to get me through an afternoon of giggling college girls guessing how many squares of toilet paper it would take to wrap around War Bride's pregnant belly. (I am not sure there is enough alcohol for that, period.) Last but not least, my aunt is darling, but she is from Cincinnati and you know the spread of eatables at a Yankee function is never up to Southern standards. And really, she shouldn't be hosting it herself ... oh dear.
In reflection, I wonder if our phone call the other day was her fishing around for me to offer to host the shower. Someone, please tell me I don't have to offer to host War Bride's baby shower. If it were at my house, the food would be good and I could get as drunk as I deemed necessary, but I still don't think I can deal with the squealing collegians.
The other baby shower is a girl I work with and quite like. I'll call her "Agnes." She grew up with Mr. J and their whole families are friends. This is not a "work" shower - I do go to those for workplace camaraderie, plus they're usually cocktail parties, no games, and always some of us hang out in the kitchen while the gifts are being unwrapped. Agnes and I joked that I am invited in my alter ego as a member of the Mr. J family, rather than in my professional persona.
Agnes assured me repeatedly that she will not take it amiss if I do not attend. She hates showers herself but her mom is dying to celebrate her first grandchild. Agnes insisted on scheduling the shower from 1-3 pm on a Sunday so as not to ruin an entire Saturday - there will be games, but the food will surely be delicious, and I foresee mimosas galore.
My dilemma is this. On the one hand, as we all know, one core element of Shower Refusal is refusing all invitations, since no one can get hurt feelings if you refuse to go to everyone's showers. On the other hand, I am a little worried about dissing Agnes, her family, and the larger circle of Mr-J family connections on the shower front. I admit this is self-serving ... but if the Adoption Fairy drops a baby in my lap on a week's notice, I might need a shower one of these days not too far in the future. I'm pretty sure there is a short-term sacrifice for long-term gain equation here ... or is it a long-term sacrifice for short-term gain?
That said, last week I was advised as to two upcoming showers, and I am on the horms of a dilemma. One of the prospective showers will be a family affair. Pilot and War Bride are going to be at home for a week this summer and my aunt wants to plan a baby shower. I am dearly fond of my family, but almost certainly going to skip this one. First and foremost, I'd like to continue success in the battle against bitterness that this child is pregnant and I am not. On a more practical note, this prospective event has AWFUL written all over it. The median guest age will be in the very early 20s, if that. You know there will be games. I won't put any money on the presence of alcohol - even if it's there, there won't be enough to get me through an afternoon of giggling college girls guessing how many squares of toilet paper it would take to wrap around War Bride's pregnant belly. (I am not sure there is enough alcohol for that, period.) Last but not least, my aunt is darling, but she is from Cincinnati and you know the spread of eatables at a Yankee function is never up to Southern standards. And really, she shouldn't be hosting it herself ... oh dear.
In reflection, I wonder if our phone call the other day was her fishing around for me to offer to host the shower. Someone, please tell me I don't have to offer to host War Bride's baby shower. If it were at my house, the food would be good and I could get as drunk as I deemed necessary, but I still don't think I can deal with the squealing collegians.
The other baby shower is a girl I work with and quite like. I'll call her "Agnes." She grew up with Mr. J and their whole families are friends. This is not a "work" shower - I do go to those for workplace camaraderie, plus they're usually cocktail parties, no games, and always some of us hang out in the kitchen while the gifts are being unwrapped. Agnes and I joked that I am invited in my alter ego as a member of the Mr. J family, rather than in my professional persona.
Agnes assured me repeatedly that she will not take it amiss if I do not attend. She hates showers herself but her mom is dying to celebrate her first grandchild. Agnes insisted on scheduling the shower from 1-3 pm on a Sunday so as not to ruin an entire Saturday - there will be games, but the food will surely be delicious, and I foresee mimosas galore.
My dilemma is this. On the one hand, as we all know, one core element of Shower Refusal is refusing all invitations, since no one can get hurt feelings if you refuse to go to everyone's showers. On the other hand, I am a little worried about dissing Agnes, her family, and the larger circle of Mr-J family connections on the shower front. I admit this is self-serving ... but if the Adoption Fairy drops a baby in my lap on a week's notice, I might need a shower one of these days not too far in the future. I'm pretty sure there is a short-term sacrifice for long-term gain equation here ... or is it a long-term sacrifice for short-term gain?
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Twinkle: This is a new one
You all know how, when Twinklette was a baby, my MIL never would admit that she wanted me. Well, I have a new baby now, and it's starting all over again. It's happened several times. The other day my FIL said, "That sounds like an 'I want my Mommy cry,'" and my MIL said, "Or an 'I'm ready to get out of here cry."' (Because every 8-week-old knows where she is and when it's time to leave someplace to go somewhere else...Tiny Twinklette was ready to get on with our day, by golly!) Even Mr. Twinkle acknowledges that it's an almost pathological obsession with my MIL, to minimize my relationship with my babies.
The worst was today. They wanted to join us at the farmers market for some unknown reason (intruding upon our weekly family time at the Douglass Loop market, might I add). Unable to locate Douglass Loop on their own, they had to come to our house first, and MIL was holding Tiny. Tiny started to cry and MIL said, "It sounds like you want..." (and here I really thought she was going to say it, but she just couldn't bring herself to). "It sounds like you want...to get in your carseat."
Yes, because when a baby cries it could either be because she's hungry, or tired, or has a dirty diaper, but most often it's because she wants to get into her carseat.
The worst was today. They wanted to join us at the farmers market for some unknown reason (intruding upon our weekly family time at the Douglass Loop market, might I add). Unable to locate Douglass Loop on their own, they had to come to our house first, and MIL was holding Tiny. Tiny started to cry and MIL said, "It sounds like you want..." (and here I really thought she was going to say it, but she just couldn't bring herself to). "It sounds like you want...to get in your carseat."
Yes, because when a baby cries it could either be because she's hungry, or tired, or has a dirty diaper, but most often it's because she wants to get into her carseat.
Monday, May 9, 2011
How To Lose A Girl In Five Minutes: Dibbs
The NBA Playoffs reminded me of a date I once had; I don't know if I ever told y'all. It was a few years ago in March. My rival team was the one-seed in the NCAA Tournament. Our team was firing Smirky the Clown. The date was a fan of the rival team and from Connecticut. Also, he didn't have a job (other than working trivia and selling Zoe, a very healthy vitamin drink.) And, he didn't believe in God. Strike One. Strike Two.
So...he proceeded to tell me all about said one-seed. Then he said, "I always hated Tubby." Now, I know all about some Tubby hate, but generally it emanates from someone with one tooth, and rarely is it uttered from a man who cheers for the other team. Why is this cat getting his dog in our Tubby-hating fight?
I asked. "Why would you hate Tubby?" And he said..."Because he didn't start"...the NBA player who was my brother's back-up.
Check, please.
Oh, do y'all think black beans and rice or Chinese take-out are acceptable Derby party side dishes? I don't, but I thought I'd check. Yankees.
So...he proceeded to tell me all about said one-seed. Then he said, "I always hated Tubby." Now, I know all about some Tubby hate, but generally it emanates from someone with one tooth, and rarely is it uttered from a man who cheers for the other team. Why is this cat getting his dog in our Tubby-hating fight?
I asked. "Why would you hate Tubby?" And he said..."Because he didn't start"...the NBA player who was my brother's back-up.
Check, please.
Oh, do y'all think black beans and rice or Chinese take-out are acceptable Derby party side dishes? I don't, but I thought I'd check. Yankees.
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