This year's Condo BBQ was the other night - and I was ready. I prepared a tray of lemon-lime squares, because my cookbook assured me that it was an inter-generational favorite, and since generations far removed from mine are heartily represented in this building, I figured they'd be a hit. I put on my preppiest outfit and rosied up my cheeks.
Off we went!
The squares were well-received.
I knocked back a plastic cup of wine-in-a-box (J asked before he poured: "Do you want, er, Purple or Blue?") and wolfed down a gross chicken burger. J tried to be chatty. I hung on. We met a clarinet-playing computer programmer from two floors up. See you at next year's BBQ, buddy. Here's the biggest news: We're now on couples-first-name basis with the electric-blue jogging suit couple. Shouts out to Ian n' Nancy! You're such freaks for getting up at 4:45 every morning! That's right, I think you're freaky! Can't wait to run into you again some morning. This time I can say hi properly.
Burgers done, I transferred the squares onto a plastic plate and abandoned them. We had a whole bunch of episodes of Entourage that needed watching.
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