Author: Maria

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sipping chardonnay out of a juice glass

And making the gourmet beenie weenies. By gourmet, I mean that I sauteed some onions and hotdogs, added some garlic salt, and dumped a can of baked pork and beans in the pan.

Yummy!

Lest you believe that economic hard times have befallen the Johnsons, fear not. There’s a significant difference between being broke and being poor. I am in a perpetural state of broke-ness, but have not been reduced to hotdoggies as a regular feature of the dinner table. Rather, my suggestions for more conventional dinnerfare were met with shrugs and choruses of “whatever”.

So “whatever” it is, and I get to retire early to some grading and reruns of Smallville.

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So much to catch up on!

I seem to be a little obsessed with the exclamation point! Sheesh!

I’ve used it in just about everything I’ve written in the past week. Time to wrap it up and put it away for a long time. Or until I feel like using it again.

Anyway, I’m behind. I’m behind in just about everything except work. How’s that for irony? Don’t worry, it won’t last for long since I collect some assignments tomorrow. For today, I’ll bask in the delusion that I am ahead there, too.

Still, I’m going to organize myself a little bit this afternoon, and come back later with a report of my progress. I figure, if I say I’m going to do it, then I’ll have to follow through with it, right? Hmm. Maybe.

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my vast cultural void

I was born in the wrong decade.

I have a soft spot for the 1940’s, 50’s and very early 60’s. If I could afford it, and look like a Chanel model, I’d dress like Jackie Kennedy before she added Onassis to her name.

One of my favorite scenes from the movies of that era is the cocktail party. Who has cocktail parties? I didn’t think they existed outside the movies.  

In a related thought, meeting someone for cocktails elicits the same funny response from me. In my world, I’d meet someone for coffee, or even for drinks, but I don’t think I’d ever use the term cocktail.

So when a colleague said she was meeting her husband for cocktails at six, my ears perked up and I asked her where she was going. Silly me, I just thought she used the term to mean she was going to Happy Hour at a local bar.

No.

She said that no matter what is going on in their day, the family meets at six for cocktails. They drink things like Manhattans. That they make at home!

I am astounded. And clearly living in a cultural void.

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