midnight cooking

here is a conversational approach to my evening:

Ingrid: we have thirty five dollars for this, can we feed nine people on that?
Sara: please. I used to feed ten people on like 12 dollars. Thirty five is a Caman-Islands account for this task.

Ingrid: Can we do two meals?
Sara: Easily.

Ingrid: Why are you using the scoop to get the noodles out?
Sara: Because you’re using the freaking strainer for your green beans.
Ingrid: Oh. (pause) I could move them.
Sara: No no. Too late. These hand ladled noodles are happy. I appreciate the process

Sara: Frick!
Ingrid: What?!
Sara: I cut myself.

few minutes later

Ingrid: O. My. Gosh!
Sara: What? (examines blood running down back of hand) Oh. It’s no big deal.

fifteen minutes later

Sara: aaaand we’ve stopped bleeding.
Ingrid: sheesh…. you should watch this video I’m posting on Christy’s wall. [for her birthday]
Sara: I can hear it. It sounds bizarre.
Ingrid: It’s sort of disturbing.
Sara: I don’t think I could handle watching it right now. Considering the amount of blood loss from my pinky, there might be permanent damage to my mental health.


looking back: Maybe we shouldn’t start cooking at midnight.
best part: setting off the smoke alarm at 1245.

[Annie: always have a place to meet in case of fire. Ingrid: it’s just something on the stove…Right?]


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