Kate
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Totally off topic, but it makes me sad that my mom knows how to do everything – cooking, sewing, playing piano, painting, wallpaper, decorating, AND always worked full time and killed it…. And I can’t do shit. I mean I can make a lasagna and I keep the house real clean, but I have absolutely no abilities.
Where have you been, Nookie? Yeah, you only put them through once. I make my brother do it at Thanksgiving. The Cockney might be cool with that.
I don’t usually cook because I’m not that into it, but my mom is a really good cook who learned from her mom and grandmother and has taken a million classes since we’ve grown up and moved out. She swears by the ricer.
So, actually, two surprising things: 1) I do think Sarah b has matured in a year, as she’s now modified #anyfuckingthingcanhappenbitch to “Many things can happen.” She also has realized the married boss is a shady piece of shit.
2) No one mentioned a potato ricer. That’s a kitchen gadget that looks and works like a very large garlic press and is the secret to light and fluffy mashed potatoes with no lumps. You just boil the peeled and chunked potatoes the usual way, starting with the water cold, then you drain and put ladle-fulls of boiled chunks through the ricer. It burns calories too! Then you mix in your butter and sour cream or milk.I was 36 and my husband was 41 when we met. He was in his late 30s by the time he stopped being a serial dater and kind of a dick or “bad boy” and actually started looking for a solid relationship and using Match. And – this is key – dating age appropriate women. He was no longer a hot-shit elite athlete at that point… “Retired” from that level of competition at 35 or 36, and a little after that he started to focus much more on career. If we’d met sooner I don’t see how it would have worked.
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