There are a lot of people who only really talk to me to ask “will you cook for me” and it’s getting to the point where I don’t mind it much anymore. I just accept it. A friend recently told me, “if I had talents like you, I would show them off as much as possible.” I told her first that she certainly does have talents like me, and then I said that once you do have a talent like this, you really don’t feel the need to show it off. As you mature, you grow past that. You begin to want to share your talent, not gloat it.
A few nights ago I cooked dinner for a bunch of friends, and it was I who decided to do it. I wasn’t paying back any promises to cook for them, I wasn’t trying to impress anyone, I was just trying to have a good time with my friends.
I loved it. I was whisking a roux with Jack Johnson playing in the background, and my friends taking pictures of each other, cause that’s just what they like to do. It was the happiest I’ve been in a while. Good food, good friends, good music, what a combo. It almost made me sad, thinking that life couldn’t be contained strictly to times like these. It did make me sad, as a matter of fact, but it was a good kind of sad. Ironic isn’t it, that an instance can be so great that it dampens your spirits.
They all thanked me much afterwards, and it almost made me feel guilty. I had done this just as much for myself as for them.