How about them hors?

Gasp. Please don't judge my title for this entry until after you have read the actual post.

Seriously.

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When I first graduated from college, I moved into a group house in Arlington with three of my friends from UVA. We were all getting started in our careers, but as most people who have lived in Arlington know, it was basically an extension of our college days.

Work hard, play harder.

We ate a lot of Mac and Cheese, Spaghetti, Bud Light and Jelly Beans. But we hit the gym too so it all balanced out.

You know how it goes.

I lived in the house with my friends Tiffany, Sang and Heather. I will tell you more about them another day, but in the meantime, here they are:

Me and Sang - when "Happy Hour" meant drinks and not a stolen Calgon moment

Tiffany with her husband Kevin

Heather. She has Moo moments too.

We were classy ladies, the four of us.

We used to drink our Diet Pepsis with our pinkies pointed up. That kind of classy.

One weekend, we decided we were going to throw a party. A BIG party. A Two Kegger. We even splurged and bought some magnum bottles of Corbett Canyon.

The wine was RED and NOT pink, hence it was automatically EXTRA classy.

In an effort to round out the party menu to expand it beyond cheap beer in Red Plastic cups, we made a trip out to Costco to hit the frozen food appetizers and veggie party platters. This party was going to be fancy.

We then made sure we got everything we needed to get done for the party with ample time for each:

Clean up house - ten minutes
Throw beer on ice - 15 minutes
Throw a little makeup on, do hair and find right outfit - 2.5 hours
Get food ready for party - 20 minutes

As you can see from where we spent the majority of our time, the culinary aspect of the evening was not high on our priority list.

As we all piled into the kitchen in a last ditch effort to get food heated, chips neatly placed in bowls and to open the pretty toothpicks up, I opened the frig and said:

"I've got the Whores Duvers!"

And it was like the record stopped.

SCRATCH.

"What?!!" all three of my roommates asked me, completely confused.

"The Whores Duvers. I got it covered," showing them the box that had the frozen piggies in a blanket and other delights you can buy really, really cheap in bulk at costco.

"Do you mean, the Hors d'oeuvres?" asked Sang.

But when she said it, it sounded like this: AU DERVS.

As my roommates all collectively rolled on the floor laughing at me (and not with me. this seems to be a common theme) while I looked confused, they all were like, "Haven't you heard of hors d'oeuvres before?"

Well, sheesh. Of course I had.

But I always thought it was spelled phonetically.

Au Dervs.
NOT Whores Duvers.

Ohhhhhh. Leave it to the French to complicate things.

You learn a lot after you graduate from college.

Anyway, despite my slip up on how to to pronounce the appetizers, the party was a hit! Our neighbors hated us for months because those red plastic cups ended up all over the neighborhood - not sure how. But we thought it added some color to to their landscaping and we felt really good about the whole thing.

Well done!

This Moo moment was brought to you by a graduate of a highly esteemed state college, who still admittedly has many "whores duvers" moments, much to the amusement of her husband.