I haven’t done one of these fiddly little mindscape entries in awhile. I’ve lately been either too tired or too wired on Friday to do one. And the closer this blasted election gets the more I’ve got dancing around in my head.
I’m having my Gals over tomorrow night. We’re going to watch Hunger Games with the Rifftrax audio and have Breakfast for Dinner. I thought about having Hunger Games themed food. But what is there, really? I’m not shooting any birds with an arrow, half the people coming are on Gluten-Free diets so we can’t do Peeta bread or fancily-decorated cookies. So Breakfast For Dinner it is. I toyed with doing an Omelet Bar. But that’s fiddly and I don’t feel like doing fiddly food.
Huh. I suppose I could have had roast pork and applesauce, in honour of the pig. Oh well. Sigh.
When I was a kid my parents through a Groundhog Day party. All the dishes had to have sausage in them because sausage is “ground hog”. I was like six or seven years old and I thought that was the cleverest thing I’ve ever heard. For the next 30 plus years my life has been a vain pursuit of cleverly themed parties. I want to throw a party just like that, where all the food is clever and fits the mood. But I just can’t ever pull it off.
That was the 70s, back when they had that party. I’m starting to believe that we don’t throw parties now like they did back then. I wonder if it’s because more people have cable tv now. And also I think that parties were a 70s thing. I don’t just mean the sleazy stuff like key parties and swingers parties. I’m thinking all the other kinds of social things my middle class parents did. Just to clarify, my middle class devoutly Christian parents weren’t throwing key parties. But there was every other kind of party. Tupperware parties were the bread and butter for a lot of women, so there were those. There were Avon parties where the makeup rep came to your house with all her samples and everyone came over for coffee and cake and wee lipsticks. Our church did a Progressive Dinner every Christmas season where there were three courses and three different houses. You’d go to one person’s for the appetizers, the next person had a soup course and then the third person had mains. Everyone funneled into the church afterward for dessert. Nobody does that anymore.
I wonder if it’s because more women work outside the home. I imagine if you’re putting in 55 hours a week at an office (because 40 hour weeks are a fairy tale we tell ourselves in this economy) that the last thing you want to do on Saturday night is have a house full of people to eat salads really fast and then drive across town for a piece of chicken in sauce.
I also wonder if it’s because I’m not the social critter my mother is. I can be social in bits and pieces but it takes a lot out of me emotionally and physically. I LOVE being around people, but then I always have to rest up in quiet with a book. I understand this is typical of folks with my social makeup. My mom is the opposite. If she doesn’t have exposure to people she starts to wither like a plant in drought season. I suppose that’s another reason for the hobo stews and taco bakes and swim cookouts that were twice-a-month during my growing years.
I still get hungry for party food sometimes. I’ve been known to get hors d’oeurves from CostCo to have as suppers. I someday may have a character in a novel do that as some sort of ShowNotTell either of “look how lonely she is” or “look how she can make her own fun”. Dunno. Something to think about. Huh. I just realised I throw a lot of parties in my head. They’re easier to clean up. That’s for sure.