I’m gonna say it: there is nothing better than a four day weekend. Except a five day weekend, I guess. Just doing the math, five is better than four. Because, you know. It’s bigger.
A Saturday in the middle of a four day weekend is also great, because I feel that the third day off is when I really start to hit my stride, day off-wise. The third day off doesn’t have the associated horror attached to it that the final day off typically has, and by the third day off you’ve actually realized that this isn’t a typical weekend.
So, for our magical third day off, we had brunch with friends. These were the same friends that we had over for Thanksgiving dinner, so it was nice to see them in a more laid-back setting that involved mimosas and biscuits & gravy.
Not just biscuits & gravy. VEGAN biscuits & gravy.
And it was good! I thought sure it was gonna taste like a cat’s asshole, but I’m learning that vegan food is actually really good if you make it with love and care.
We also bought like ten pounds of oranges so that we could use our juicer for the mimosas. That’s right. We actually used a kitchen gadget that we purchased four years ago. You’re next, rotisserie chicken machine! I’m gonna set it and forget it, alright. Right in your face!
That made little to no sense, but I don’t care. The kitchen gadgets are coming out of the closet!
I know what I just said. I’m going to shout it from the mountaintops!
As we sat there sipping orange-flavored champagne and bloody marys, Meg and I realized something: we have no problem eating in when there are friends around to share it with. I’m not necessarily making sweeping social commentaries here, but then again, maybe I am. Have we lost the ability as a society to hang out with friends, eating and drinking and laughing with each other all morning (or evening) long? After a weekend hanging out with friends and loved ones around dinner and breakfast tables, I feel like I’m on the edge of something important here. I would much rather cook a meal for someone I care about. I know myself well enough to realize that I will never enjoy cooking a meal for myself. If I’m alone in the house, I guarantee that I will just nuke a tortilla and put butter on it. That’s how dinner gets done, Denny style.
But if people are around, suddenly I want to try new things, break out the never-used kitchen gadgets, and hang out with them while I wash the dishes we just used.
So, I’m thinking, much as Meg alluded to in an earlier post, that we need people to succeed. We need friends to come over and eat dinner with us, so that I will want to try out some new dish that has zero chance of making it in a Denny-oriented cooking environment. I know that most of you live far away, so this won’t necessarily work for everyone, but that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t try.
Come hang out, or have us over for dinner! Let’s share cool stories and delicious wine. You can teach me how to use a dutch oven, and I can teach you how to get really, really drunk. I know that most Americans would rather jam toothpicks into their tear ducts rather than spend a bunch of time with other people, and maybe you’ll hate this too. But who knows? Maybe we’ll have enough fun hanging out with each other that we can put down the gadgets for a few hours, and just be happy to be alive and able to spend time with friends.
At least until the second half of The Walking Dead starts up again.