He is a musician and so are most of his friends.
It is a potluck and bring your instruments sort of thing.
"You better make enough food for us to have dinner, you know those fricking hippies never start on time and there is never any food. there's always that guy that shows up with like one small packet of seaweed, or some bullshit."
Is what Mark said.
He boiled eight eggs.
We made a lot of coleslaw with Moroccan herbs and dill.
I made pasta shells with sweet peas and homemade mayonnaise, Russian horseradish,capers and kale.
He bought a watermelon at the farmer's market earlier in the day.
I don't know if he intends to bring it with him, or eat it at home, tonight, after the party, while we watch a cooking show, or a movie.
That's our exciting Saturday night, most times.
Last year at this same friend's party, I brought shaved brussel sprouts with bacon and maple, mustard vinaigrette, and this stoned girl kept picking the bacon pieces out with her dirty fingers, and exclaiming
"IS THIS BACON? "
and sort of swooning and smearing it around her mouth,
Until I said
"keep your hands out of my salad!"
My friend's mother, who has known me for more than twenty years, laughed out loud, and the girl sauntered off, only to return with a friend and resume her pickery.
My friend said,
"Yo, don't mess with Heidi's p r e s e n t a t i o n."
but by then I was satisfactorily annoyed enough to leave. I only really came to see his mother and say happy birthday.
I don't really enjoy those kinds of parties now that I'm a cranky old lady.
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