Girlfriends

Before I begin, I have to aplogize for my offensive language used in previous blogs. When my lovely mother joined us for a gourmet mac-n-cheese dinner last night she brought it to my attention that I was using "garage talk." "Now Jenny, when you are flogging," (Isn't she adorable?), "you really shouldn't use potty mouth." Huh? What did I say? "Jenny honey, you can call it making potty or going pee, but you really shouldn't use the (low whisper) piss word. It's just not very lady like." Isn't it cute that my mom still thinks I'm a lady? I kinda thought she would've caught on by now. "And, Jenny sweetheart, don't go flogging about me tomorrow." Oh, mother, I would never do such a thing . . .

Oh, and the mac-n-cheese I made last night totally rocked so I will post the recipe at the end of this blog. (Um, it was DIET mac-n-cheese)

So, onto my Girlfriends. I have to show you all love for the wonderful support you all have shown me over the years. Honestly, I don't know what I would do without you all. (I am quite certain I would have stabbed someone by now, but we all know I have a little stabby problem.) I have the most wonderful crew of Girlfriends: some that have been my Girlfriends since birth; some that have been my Girlfriends since Elementary School & High School; some that have been my Girlfriends since college; some that have become Girlfriends after working with me; some Girlfriends that I have met through my kids; some that have been forced to be Girlfriends because they are related to me; some Girlfriends I met through my bad golf game; some Girlfriends I have met through other Girlfriends; some Girlfriends I have met through my gay Boyfriends; and Girlfriends I have yet to meet but know that we will be close someday. You are all the best.

My Girlfriends are the type that would not only tell me that I have something stuck in my teeth, but they would also totally lie and tell me how great I look when they know I have gained 10 pounds and have had to leave my pants unbuttoned. My Girlfriends are the type to forgive me for not staying in touch as often as I'd like, and when we do connect, we just pick up where left off. So, to you my Girlfriends, I salute you with a toast of my baileys and coffee. (Hey it's another snow day and the kids are home, so I am starting early.)

I had the pleasure of going out with a few of my Girlfriends this weekend for a much needed night out. We started out having dinner and martini's at another Girlfriend's fabulous restaurant. Our waitress too was a Girlfriend, so our 2 1/2 hour dinner was tons of fun, needless to say. After our wonderful dinner we decided to go to our local bar. Actually, it is the ONLY bar in town, and it is what most folk would refer to as, well, a dive. They have Pabst on tap, and many patrons actually arrive on snowmobiles or tractors. So, I think you get the picture. It is a bar that everyone is my hometown is familiar with, and of course, we all have crazy stories.

My story began many moons ago when I was a bartender at this bar. It was my first bartending job, and I was so excited to learn how to bartened because I had heard all the stories about how much money you could make. Little did I know that the most exotic drink I would ever make would be a screwdriver. But, it was a fun place, and the locals tipped pretty well. And, since I was still legally unable to drink, it was a great place for me and my friends to get drunk.

I chose to go there Saturday night for the sole purpose that if I drank too much, I could always have my mom come and pick me up. (It wouldn't have been the first time, unfortunately.) For a big girl, suprisingly, I am a pretty cheap date. I am the life of the party after just a few coctails.

Upon entering my old stomping ground I was suprised to see that absolutely nothing had changed. Except the patrons. I was concerned that many in the crowd were up well past their bed time. They all looked 12. And, of course, they ALL turned to look at us as we walked in the door. Naturally, I yell something like "the FUN has arrived." (In the same tone as Rosie O'Donnell in the Tarzan movie.) And, I head to the jukebox to play $5 worth of old songs that we can sing along to at the top of our lungs. (Obviously, I am getting old, because $5 only gets you 9 songs nowadays. What a rip-off!)

So, my Girlfriends and I find seats at the end of the bar. (Actually I had to move chairs and coats, but I figured no one would dare mess with me on my old turf.) As we sit down to enjoy our $3 citron-and-sodas- with-a-splash-of-lime-juice (yes, another great reason to visit your local dive bar - top shelf liquor for $3 a drink!!!!! Wooooohooooo!), I can see that a small group of youngen's at the pool table keep looking over at my group of Girlfriends.

Naturally I assume that they are all looking at my fabulous new bangs thinking how amazing my hair looks and how young it makes me, so I don't give it much thought. After a few minutes one of the cute boys at the pool table starts walking right towards me.

I'm smiling to myself. Thinking "hey, even with an ass (oops butt, sorry mom) that hangs over the sides of the bar stool, you STILL got it girl. oooooooooh, these bangs are bangin' and so are you! you are one hot mama!" As you can tell, I am able to think a lot of things in a short amount of time. But, hey, a cute boy is heading right towards me!

"I know who you are." this cute boy says to me. Wow, my reputation proceeds me. I must be a legend here. I am so honored. "You are Mr. Paco's wife." Ugh, nothing like having the wind taken right out of your sails. "um, yes I am." I humbly reply. "He was the best counsellor ever. He's one of my favorite people!" mr cutie-pants gushes. "um, that's so nice. I'll be sure to tell him." And, I kindly spin my fat-bootie back around to face my Girls.

Ok, so I am in MY old stomping ground, with MY Girlfriends, listening to MY sing-along songs on the jukebox, with MY fabulous new bangs and STILL my ever perfect hubby has to come into play. Ugh! The joys of being married to a local legend.

But, true to the nature of a real Girlfriend, one says to me, "he was totally flirting with you." Exactly what I needed to put some air back in my sails, even if it was a blatant lie.

So, anyway, several other Girlfriends join us and we have a FABULOUS time. So much fun, that I think it should be a weekly ritual. I forgot how much I LOVE the song Ice Ice Baby. Good times.

So, the moral of the story here is (I'm not sure there really is one, but . . .) THANK YOU all for being my Girlfriends. (Or my special Boyfriends - you know who you are.) You make every day as a crazy wife, mother, business-owner, scatter-brained wackadooo seem, well, NORMAL. So, thanks. I never knew how many people have gone to work with 2 different shoes or scraped toothpaste off a ceiling, so it is so wonderful to know that I am not alone. I love you all.

Now, for my fabulous gourmet mac-n-cheese recipe. (I consider anything that involves chopping and doesn't come out of a bag or box gourmet. ) If any of you are Food Network junkies like I am, you will totally get it.

I call it Barefoot Paula Mac-n-cheese

Pour 2 cups white wine if your favorite glass. Sip. If you are going to cook, you should always have wine . . .

Boil water and add a box of pasta. Whatever you have on hand will do. I happened to use mini-penne because it's so darned cute.

While the pasta is boiling, melt 1/2 stick of butter in a sauce pan. Add about 1/2 to 1 cup chopped vidalia onions and sautee until they turn clearish. (You don't taste the onions for you onion-haters)

Add 2 cloves chopped garlic and stir for a minute.

Add about 1/4 cup flour and mix well for 1 minute.

Add 2-3 cups milk (or whatever is left in the jug as I did) and whisk well for a minute or so.

Add a few shakes of salt, a pinch of dry mustard, several grinds of pepper, and a large splotch of dried parsley.

Stir well.

Add one brick of chopped Gruyere cheese. (Or swiss if like me you are too cheap to splurge on a $7 hunk of cheese. ) Probably around 8 oz's.

Add several good hunks of velveeta cheese, probably another 8 oz's.

Add about 2 cups of mozzarella or an italian blend cheese.

Mix well.

To the boiling pasta add 3/4 of a bag of frozen peas, and about 2 cups of chopped ham. Let cook another minute or 2.

Drain pasta mixture and mix with cheese mixture.

Put into a pam-sprayed casserole dish, or a bunch of small ramekins or small casserole dishes so everyone can have their own dish.

Melt the other half of the stick of butter and mix with about 2 cups of panko or other bread crumbs. (I happen to LOVE panko). Spread over the top of casserole.

Bake in the oven at 350 for about half and hour. Until bubbly.

And, it is so friggen yummy. The kids finished every bite. I'm not a big fan of swiss cheese, but you can't taste it. I promise. Enjoy.

Oh, and refill your wine glass already.