The Bossy Bar-Wife


Location: United States

Wednesday, September 26, 2007


About a year and a half ago, I got invited to a neighborhood block party. (I probably shouldn't say it that way-- our whole neighborhood was invited, I didn't "get" invited).

Anyhow, we got this thing in the mailbox saying we were having a block party and that a local place would provide hot dogs, hamburgers, etc. but that we should bring desserts. For some reason, I got overly excited about this party. I went directly to my computer to RSVP that I would indeed be there-- even though Mr. Bossy was going to be out of town with the guys-- and that I'd gladly bring a dessert to share. I was even going to a baby shower that afternoon, but figured I could do both.

So, the morning of the party I was busily making these delicious cookies that are sort of my signature, and packing them in a cute basket for the occasion, etc. etc.

I looked down to the end of my street where the party was supposed to be getting started, and I didn't see much going on. So I went back inside and waited. You know how it feels when you have nothing to do, you're simply just waiting to leave or something? It was like that. I was just sitting and waiting, checking my watch.

So, about 15 minutes later I decided I had to go, if I was going to have enough time to enjoy this party and make it to the baby shower. So, I picked up my cookies and marched myself down the street.

Now, I know some of my neighbors. Not many. Naturally, the ones I knew at the time weren't at the party. So, I was feeling slightly less confident as I got to the end of the street and walked up to the guests.

I didn't know where to put my cookies, so I just put them on an empty table and then someone called out to me that I needed a nametag. I put on my nametag and looked around expectantly for all my new friends to begin greeting me.



So, I wandered over to the grill and asked for a hot dog. The man working the grill greeted me by name (due to the nametag), which gave me a ray of hope, but then I realized that he wasn't one of my neighbors, he was from the local restaurant.

So, I got some tea and realized that I didn't have anywhere to sit, so I sort of floated over to a group of people about my age talking. One of them introduced himself to me, but the rest of them just kept talking as though they'd never noticed me. (which they probably didn't).

Anyway, after a few awkward minutes, wherein I realized that without a baby or a dog OR a husband there with me (at the very least), I had nothing to make this any easier. So, I said-- to NO ONE--- "Well, I've got to get to a baby shower".

No one said anything, so I looked around for my cookies. I found them, sitting in all their homemade glory, surrounded by Oreos and Nutter Butters still in their plastic bags. Not impressed.

So, I made my way home, about 20 minutes after I got there. I was devastated. Why didn't anyone want to be friends with me? Why didn't I think to borrow a baby or a dog so I would have something to keep myself company?

So. I tell you all this to say that this Saturday night, there is another block party. Mr. Bossy and I are going to go... but I have a lot of apprehension about this event. I'll be sure to let you know how it all turns out. At least I know he'll talk to me.

I hope.

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Dear Whoopi Goldberg,

Congrats on your first day on the View.

For your information:

I am from the south... more "deep" than Michael Vick is. Deeper than Virginia. I know NO ONE who is or ever has been involved in dog-fighting, etc. No matter the geography of the perpetrator, this is a disgusting crime.

As a life-long southerner, I heartily resent your remarks on this subject.

Thank you.