Don’t barf all over yourself, but I’d like to have a brunch in all 50 states.

Ordinarily I wouldn’t tee off with the negative, but this drives my mom bananas, and I think she has a point. She says brunch is by nature an activity of the priveleged—since who has time for a mid-day meal that’s often over-priced eggs—and even that word connotes the Sex and the City moronism that I’m trying to shed. Also, what can you really learn about someone in a two-hour meal?

As usual, my mom is, unfortunately, right. But I want a way to focus my energy, and since I’m not ready to go all Barbara Ehrenreich on the Beltway, this is my plan for now.