Jan. 30th, 2011

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You guys. I have my new stove, and it is so beautiful. I agonized over my choice for long enough that some things I wanted went off sale and others went on, and in the end, I ended up with something not on my original wish list, the choice guided not by recommended brands so much as what seemed like the best stove within my budget at that moment.

It was a good choice. At least, I think it was a good choice; I say this because I haven't actually used it yet for anything more taxing than boiling water, which is, I hear, a thing every new-bought stove in the world can do. Part of the reason for my negligence is that my kitchen is still dismantled because I paint at a snail's pace, but most of it, I admit, is that I'm afraid that if I cook on it I will somehow mess it up, as if its now-pristine surfaces aren't, you know, wipable.

(Well, maybe I've played too much Sims, too, seen too many inept cooks start kitchen fires by cooking. It upsets the Sims so! And I feel sure that starting a kitchen fire would upset me too, and I would stand helplessly by clutching my hair and stomping a little while the fire consumed the stove, and I would get a small insurance check out of nowhere to compensate me for my loss, but that wouldn't be enough for me. I don't want that!)

One day, my friends, I'll get over my awe-inspired fear, and then watch out! There will be Meals Aplenty generated by that stove. I'm certain of it. Nearly certain. And until then, I'm just going to keep going into the kitchen and turning on the burners with the sort of exuberant glee usually reserved for naughty toddlers and pyromaniacal teenaged boys.

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