I have laid a banquet for myself, feasting on bits of gristle and my self-loathing, laid out plates and plates of the things I have done wrong, and every morning I offer myself a cup filled to brimming with those voices telling me I cannot and I cannot and I cannot, and every morning I drain it dry.
Oh gosh .I remember working banquets at Castagnola’s. The small upstairs kitchen. Having to wear a white shirt. I didn’t have a white shirt. I didn’t hace much. I borrowed a white shirt from another waitress. It was super wrinkled. I tried ironing it in the upstairs women’s bathroom but it didn’t work. And I remember at the end of the banquet the manager on duty, Ed, saying to me, “Don’t ever wear a shirt like that on my floor again.”
Banquet is a french word meaning a large feast or meal, with main courses and desserts. It usually serves a purpose, like a wedding or ceremony, and may have speeches given at the end.
thanksgiving banquet
has come and gone
and my 80 plus year old grandparents
with their replaced hips and body parts
and probably left cleaning up
in their tasteful house in Westchester, New York
who’d have thought they would be here after living their lives in Queens?
thanksgiving this year wasnt a banquet. Im upset that Nana usurped my celebration three days after i naturally delivered a new baby boy, no pain meds. My father flew in from NC, and everyone else in the family had someplace else to go, including her. But she canceled her plans so that my own father, mother, brother and sister could have Thanksgiving at HER place. she told my in the MATERNITY ROOM that it needs to be at her place because she wont think about trying to walk up one flight of stairs to come to my house for Thanksgiving and see the baby, like MY immediate family planned. Also per the original plan: she was going to Robert’s place with Uncle Tom and Aunt Mary.
And she didn’t even buy enough food. I’ve never met anyone else on the planet who is so concerned that there will be left overs that there is not enough for second plates and the dinner guests don’t take as much as they’d want because they want to leave enough for everyone else to have a couple tablespoons of each side dish. She hems and haws that there will be too much food, but she is the first person at other people’s parties to hawk the leftovers and extra condiments.
Not a banquet.
If I ever had another baby, I will announce that I won’t allow guests other than the people who are watching my older kids, and then will consider who I actually want to visit on an individual basis.
I can guarantee Nana will not be on the list.
She makes so many ‘poor me’ needs for herself that my dad spent more time attending to her than spending time with his grandkids and hanging with me, and I resent it.
At least she was just debating and arguing about my sister’s job situation and guilting my dad into bringing Thanksgiving to her instead of Veda and my family, rather than spewing verbal diarrhea about stillbirths and failure to thrive for 30 minutes like she did with my first birth.
Beginning around 20 weeks pregnant with my first, she would approach me, only when I was alone, and quietly talk about premature babies and 2lbs babies and their struggles. I just avoided her and I rarely see her. I tolerate her for family gatherings, but dont have much to say. I dont feel like im being a better person for it anymore, i feel like I’m disrespecting myself by being quietly tolerant when someone is acting like a shithead over and over.
The banquet hall was so lavish – it was like stepping into a dream in which she did not belong. There were so many people dressed in beautiful clothes. She felt so unimportant, as if she did not belong in such a place. Yet, he chose her.
food… lots of food. This is best sutited for someone that has the ability to eat a lot. Not the healthest was of eating. found a lot in america. Oops… I got this confused with buffet..
It was a banquet set before her. She could hardly speak. When had he had time to prepare such a feast? She’d come home with every intention of ending things, but here he was making efforts. Trying for the first time in months. How could she walk away now?
Banquet is for group gatherings with specific food prepared without much choice. After all, this is about the people gathering for the special occasion and not the food.
The table was laid simply, but I could tell he put a lot of work into finding silverware that matched. I walked back towards the kitchen as quietly as I could. He was standing over the stove top, stirring absentmindedly. The other food was laid out on platters and bowls and ready to be served. I grinned at the absolute joy of effort he exuded daily. I didn’t require perfection. Just effort.
There were too many flowers and the music was bad. Apparently her mother-in-law-to-be had a fondness for Irish Gaelic swan music that put people to sleep. Someone was actually snoring. She laughed and then laughed even harder when they turned their glares on her. If a wedding rehearsal banquet was an omen, then her happily-ever-after was going to be hell.
I can’t remember the last time I went to a banquet. It would be nice to attend. Well I guess one would need friends and an invite to be invited to such a thing.
his limbs, long.
eyes, dark.
brown hair, eyes skin, glowing
chin raised in a challenge. lips a twisted smirk.
stubble grazing stomach panes as his head slides downwards-
again.
There was a banquet, you could eat as much as you wanted but it left me reeling and uncertain as I was up and down from my seat and then I got stomach ache because i’d eaten too much, too fast. Banquet.
As I look upon your face, I saw your beautiful smile. I saw the candles and stars around. And the romantic banquet you prepared for me. I can’t stop thinking to myself how lucky and blessed I am to have you.
A banquet where all the delicacies will be presented. A banquet where all must attend. A banquet where all will enjoy. A banquet where loved one may attend. Let us go there.
She just did it. She let go. Her insides didn’t tear any more. Her neck muscles had unclenched. She’s at the head of the table now, at a banquet in a large baroque dining hall and all the faces that flank the food are people she’d worked with once or slept with once (or more) or met through her children’s lives. And somehow, she who was thought so frail by almost everyone. She had outlived them all.
I’ve been to a band banquet. Three actually. The first one was fun but by the third I wasn’t all that thrilled by them. I never won an award. I didn’t even go to my senior year one, where I would have been given a gift. It would have been a mirror with my name on it. That’s what all the girls got I heard.
And in the next second, we are gorging on the banquet that sits before us, chugging down on sparkling cider and wine, the same jokes we’ve been laughing at for years, listening to stories we’ve heard since we were children, joyfully unaware of the hours we have ahead of us until the night is over.
As he entered the banquet hall, he turned to see the host, and immediately thought to himself, “i shouldn’t be here, this is was way too fancy for a man like me, I should be down the road at the local pub, having a pint.”
In other words, everything looked delicious. The banquet, the people, the high ceilings, the intricate patterns carved on the wooden chairs. Everything spoke grandeur, everything seemed to fit together like a puzzle. Except me. I was the odd one out.
Banquet. This thanksgiving, a local shelter hosted a thanksgiving banquet for those who could not provide a thanksgiving meal for themselves or their family. It took place in a ballroom.What an inspiring event for me. It made me want to give back with a service project for Christmas. I am thinking hosting a coat drive.
After the banquet, we cleared our plates. We scraped the crumbs into bins and buckets. The larger scraps, we scooped into bowls and tins and containers, covering them up with foil and plastic lids. Then, when the leftovers were packed and the tablecloth shaken outside to get rid of the remaining bits and pieces, we loaded the goods into the back of our truck and drove through our neighborhood, visiting every house where our poorer friends lived. And we served them a banquet of their own.
Once upon a time, King Toad invited a class of tadpoles to the Royal Banquet, that he might educate them on the finer points of amphibian etiquette. Naturally, the lilypad souffle was a smashing success, and darling Dolores cried tears of joy when she tasted Deep-Fried Fly, but the toadlings were disturbed to learn that the day’s special was frog legs. King Toad had caught the queen with his brother Bertram, and he’d made sure Bertram would never hop again.
a conniving, convivial, cannibal banquet, with the hostess spread-eagled on the regal tablecloth, her face in the lace, her fingers dipped in whip cream, and her eyes glazed with syrup. they had dispersed a fragrant, viscous confection across her abdomen and were rubbing it in, letting the scent saturate her pores so that, when a certain bold someone took the first bite, the scent of blood and flesh would be muddied with the overbearing odor of camomile and myrrh.
I run through the streets, anxious to get to the banquet on time. It is crucial that I make a good impression on the host. It will determine if I live or if I die.
I run through the streets, eager to get to the banquet on time. Im always late, and I want to make an impression on the host. This impression will determine if I live or if I die.
I have laid a banquet for myself, feasting on bits of gristle and my self-loathing, laid out plates and plates of the things I have done wrong, and every morning I offer myself a cup filled to brimming with those voices telling me I cannot and I cannot and I cannot, and every morning I drain it dry.
Oh gosh .I remember working banquets at Castagnola’s. The small upstairs kitchen. Having to wear a white shirt. I didn’t have a white shirt. I didn’t hace much. I borrowed a white shirt from another waitress. It was super wrinkled. I tried ironing it in the upstairs women’s bathroom but it didn’t work. And I remember at the end of the banquet the manager on duty, Ed, saying to me, “Don’t ever wear a shirt like that on my floor again.”
Banquet is a french word meaning a large feast or meal, with main courses and desserts. It usually serves a purpose, like a wedding or ceremony, and may have speeches given at the end.
Banquets are where you go to stuff yout face with food. You eat and eat until you are fool.
I just drank some vitamins and I am hungry as fuck. I could use a big banquet right now. I want some roast pig, please? ^___^
Quet was VERY annoying.
They decided not to let HIM back again.
Banquet, bouquet
banquet, bouquet
What an array of pomp and importance at the assemblage.
thanksgiving banquet
has come and gone
and my 80 plus year old grandparents
with their replaced hips and body parts
and probably left cleaning up
in their tasteful house in Westchester, New York
who’d have thought they would be here after living their lives in Queens?
thanksgiving this year wasnt a banquet. Im upset that Nana usurped my celebration three days after i naturally delivered a new baby boy, no pain meds. My father flew in from NC, and everyone else in the family had someplace else to go, including her. But she canceled her plans so that my own father, mother, brother and sister could have Thanksgiving at HER place. she told my in the MATERNITY ROOM that it needs to be at her place because she wont think about trying to walk up one flight of stairs to come to my house for Thanksgiving and see the baby, like MY immediate family planned. Also per the original plan: she was going to Robert’s place with Uncle Tom and Aunt Mary.
And she didn’t even buy enough food. I’ve never met anyone else on the planet who is so concerned that there will be left overs that there is not enough for second plates and the dinner guests don’t take as much as they’d want because they want to leave enough for everyone else to have a couple tablespoons of each side dish. She hems and haws that there will be too much food, but she is the first person at other people’s parties to hawk the leftovers and extra condiments.
Not a banquet.
If I ever had another baby, I will announce that I won’t allow guests other than the people who are watching my older kids, and then will consider who I actually want to visit on an individual basis.
I can guarantee Nana will not be on the list.
She makes so many ‘poor me’ needs for herself that my dad spent more time attending to her than spending time with his grandkids and hanging with me, and I resent it.
At least she was just debating and arguing about my sister’s job situation and guilting my dad into bringing Thanksgiving to her instead of Veda and my family, rather than spewing verbal diarrhea about stillbirths and failure to thrive for 30 minutes like she did with my first birth.
Beginning around 20 weeks pregnant with my first, she would approach me, only when I was alone, and quietly talk about premature babies and 2lbs babies and their struggles. I just avoided her and I rarely see her. I tolerate her for family gatherings, but dont have much to say. I dont feel like im being a better person for it anymore, i feel like I’m disrespecting myself by being quietly tolerant when someone is acting like a shithead over and over.
The banquet hall was so lavish – it was like stepping into a dream in which she did not belong. There were so many people dressed in beautiful clothes. She felt so unimportant, as if she did not belong in such a place. Yet, he chose her.
food… lots of food. This is best sutited for someone that has the ability to eat a lot. Not the healthest was of eating. found a lot in america. Oops… I got this confused with buffet..
It was a banquet set before her. She could hardly speak. When had he had time to prepare such a feast? She’d come home with every intention of ending things, but here he was making efforts. Trying for the first time in months. How could she walk away now?
Banquet is for group gatherings with specific food prepared without much choice. After all, this is about the people gathering for the special occasion and not the food.
The table was laid simply, but I could tell he put a lot of work into finding silverware that matched. I walked back towards the kitchen as quietly as I could. He was standing over the stove top, stirring absentmindedly. The other food was laid out on platters and bowls and ready to be served. I grinned at the absolute joy of effort he exuded daily. I didn’t require perfection. Just effort.
There were too many flowers and the music was bad. Apparently her mother-in-law-to-be had a fondness for Irish Gaelic swan music that put people to sleep. Someone was actually snoring. She laughed and then laughed even harder when they turned their glares on her. If a wedding rehearsal banquet was an omen, then her happily-ever-after was going to be hell.
READY TO THRIVE?
I can’t remember the last time I went to a banquet. It would be nice to attend. Well I guess one would need friends and an invite to be invited to such a thing.
his limbs, long.
eyes, dark.
brown hair, eyes skin, glowing
chin raised in a challenge. lips a twisted smirk.
stubble grazing stomach panes as his head slides downwards-
again.
There was a banquet, you could eat as much as you wanted but it left me reeling and uncertain as I was up and down from my seat and then I got stomach ache because i’d eaten too much, too fast. Banquet.
As I look upon your face, I saw your beautiful smile. I saw the candles and stars around. And the romantic banquet you prepared for me. I can’t stop thinking to myself how lucky and blessed I am to have you.
A banquet where all the delicacies will be presented. A banquet where all must attend. A banquet where all will enjoy. A banquet where loved one may attend. Let us go there.
She just did it. She let go. Her insides didn’t tear any more. Her neck muscles had unclenched. She’s at the head of the table now, at a banquet in a large baroque dining hall and all the faces that flank the food are people she’d worked with once or slept with once (or more) or met through her children’s lives. And somehow, she who was thought so frail by almost everyone. She had outlived them all.
I’ve been to a band banquet. Three actually. The first one was fun but by the third I wasn’t all that thrilled by them. I never won an award. I didn’t even go to my senior year one, where I would have been given a gift. It would have been a mirror with my name on it. That’s what all the girls got I heard.
And in the next second, we are gorging on the banquet that sits before us, chugging down on sparkling cider and wine, the same jokes we’ve been laughing at for years, listening to stories we’ve heard since we were children, joyfully unaware of the hours we have ahead of us until the night is over.
We are please to announce that we will be hosting our annual banquet on the 30th November, 2015 at the Georgetown’s Club.
1banquet=Bringthings Agh Nother Quintessential Union Energizing Those.
As he entered the banquet hall, he turned to see the host, and immediately thought to himself, “i shouldn’t be here, this is was way too fancy for a man like me, I should be down the road at the local pub, having a pint.”
In other words, everything looked delicious. The banquet, the people, the high ceilings, the intricate patterns carved on the wooden chairs. Everything spoke grandeur, everything seemed to fit together like a puzzle. Except me. I was the odd one out.
Banquet. This thanksgiving, a local shelter hosted a thanksgiving banquet for those who could not provide a thanksgiving meal for themselves or their family. It took place in a ballroom.What an inspiring event for me. It made me want to give back with a service project for Christmas. I am thinking hosting a coat drive.
After the banquet, we cleared our plates. We scraped the crumbs into bins and buckets. The larger scraps, we scooped into bowls and tins and containers, covering them up with foil and plastic lids. Then, when the leftovers were packed and the tablecloth shaken outside to get rid of the remaining bits and pieces, we loaded the goods into the back of our truck and drove through our neighborhood, visiting every house where our poorer friends lived. And we served them a banquet of their own.
Once upon a time, King Toad invited a class of tadpoles to the Royal Banquet, that he might educate them on the finer points of amphibian etiquette. Naturally, the lilypad souffle was a smashing success, and darling Dolores cried tears of joy when she tasted Deep-Fried Fly, but the toadlings were disturbed to learn that the day’s special was frog legs. King Toad had caught the queen with his brother Bertram, and he’d made sure Bertram would never hop again.
a conniving, convivial, cannibal banquet, with the hostess spread-eagled on the regal tablecloth, her face in the lace, her fingers dipped in whip cream, and her eyes glazed with syrup. they had dispersed a fragrant, viscous confection across her abdomen and were rubbing it in, letting the scent saturate her pores so that, when a certain bold someone took the first bite, the scent of blood and flesh would be muddied with the overbearing odor of camomile and myrrh.
Wedding
Awards ceremony
Formal attire
Dinner
Prizes
When I think of banquet I think of awards ceremonies. I also
The banqueting bunch bounced around afterwards. It was a banquet of light food for light-hearted people, nicely packed with pretty flowers
I run through the streets, anxious to get to the banquet on time. It is crucial that I make a good impression on the host. It will determine if I live or if I die.
I run through the streets, eager to get to the banquet on time. Im always late, and I want to make an impression on the host. This impression will determine if I live or if I die.