After a long, hard day, I reach for a drink. I pour myself a vodka and cranberry and took a sip. Before I can finish my drink, a voice chimes in, presumably Maeve. Before the alcohol even kicks in, I start hearing her snotty voice.
Maeve: Bonne Vivante!!
Me: Maeve must be showing off again. This time she brags about her well traveled life, her knowledge of foreign language, her culture (she is part French), her wealth, and her cultured food palate, in uttering this single phrase. Spare me! Buzz kill! Maybe I will go take a walk and burn off this frustration. I really hate it when Maeve talks to me! I have always hated when much younger females try to one up me or educate me on anything. That is an aggravating pet peeve that I encounter occasionally. Maeve fits that dilemma to a T. Ugh! I hate every word that comes out of her mouth!
Me: Bonne Vivante is a great expression though. “To the good life” also makes a great toast. I am not rich but maybe I will use this expression one day. I had to Google this expression after I heard it today. Schizoaffective Disorder teaches me vocabulary words occasionally.
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