I finally figured it out

Thursday, 18 August 2005

You know how you’ll be cooking for friends or a party and maybe have a great idea in the middle of following a recipe. You decide it’s creative genius time and you go with it. You add some expensive ingredients and try a fancy turn on an old staple. But you fuck it up because it just wasn’t meant to work that way even though it sounded good a couple minutes ago.

You’re really attached to the idea though and you’ve already invested ingredients and time and dishes. You try to rescue it. You can’t yet admit you were wrong, toss it all, and just start over. You grab the whisk and corn starch and butter and salt and sugar and the spice rack and some bread crumbs and continue for far too long to ply this act of faith.

Dinner is done and it’s kind of pretty after all. Everyone oohs and ahhs as you serve. That stops as soon as the forks touch lips. Everyone eats it, though, and says it’s good. You know they’re lying to be polite. You’re eating it too. Everyone has excuses about already having eaten. That’s why not a plate is cleared and no one wants seconds. Not because it tastes like ass.

I just saw a Kelly Clarkson video. I finally get it.

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