What I last ate Leftovers.
What I last drank Water
Song in my head Portland, OR
I could like Bunco. I'm sure of it. Two friends of mine play bunco together. They are playing as we speak, actually. They are having a fine time and eating blue cheese puff things. I am CERTAIN there is wine involved. Their group is composed mainly of Junior Leaguers, I believe. Oddly, I think I would rather play Bunco with the Junior League than with my group.
They are, for the most part, nice women in a nice neihgborhood. However, I have nothing in common with most of them and get along best with Ann, across the street, who has 10 children and 31 grandchildren. The woman understands a work ethic. She never gives me crap for being a "working mom." This is my big bone of contention with most of the ladies with whom I play Bunco. They are all stay at home moms who, secretly or openly, believe my daughter will be the next Unibomber because I choose to have a career. I actually had alady, after grilling me about my job and the hours I work, ask me who was RAISING my children. Not watching. No, no. RAISING. Yeah. Uh-huh.
Here's my other beef. There are only like, five of us that ever host. That's it. This means that tomorrow I need to get my working mom ass home, get my kid fed, husband off to work, house clean and snacks made before 7pm. What the hell am I thinking? Am I mental? Don't answer that.
I do have one more beef. I have nice taste in wine, so I think. If you come to my house, I try VERY to make sure I am not serving you swill. If I have to go to one more Bunco party with 3 Buck Chuck or pink, PINK wine I will crack the host over the head with the bottle. And do not get me started on people who serve wine with fruit other then grapes shown on the front. Do these people serve Keystone Light at their football parties? I'm askin'...
To quote my dear friend Martha Jean, who is JUST the type of woman you want to play bunco with - funny as hell, Joe Namath even says so - "That's it. That's the list."