Fudging Kindness.

"Looking forward to tomorrow."

That's the email quote from my writers' group Christmas party host. Tonight's the party; she wrote it yesterday. It would mean something completely different if she wrote it today, huh? She's still got time. She can still admit defeat. I don't think she will though; She's been looking forward to this for a while. Good for her. I'm glad to give her something to look forward to. That's a step in the right direction, for both of us right?

I think 07 is a recovery year for her. 06 was her year that will live in infamy (add a little FDR fireside radio reverb; it makes it sound really foreboding). She did her time through the gauntlet of divorce, now she's steped through the tunnel into the light. Good for her. I think hosting the party really helped her.

She sent me an email that she was going to spend most of the evening cooking. I was going to do some cooking too, I'm making fudge. I also forgot to read the directions. Or at least I forgot to read that part at the top. The thing they call a list of ingredients. According to my cupboard, I don't keep a regular supply of evaporated milk. I left the cap off the 2% and a baggie rubberbanded over the opening to harvest evaporation vapors. So far nothing. But the milk is looking extra chunky. I am a kitchen caveman.

Mmm…fire…gooood….

It's funny, I gave the woman my hostess apron and mantle, but not to help. I just did it because I didn't want to deal with it. The writers' group Christmas party is a tradition. They deserved the party, but let somebody else be traditional. I didn't feel festive. That's why I declined my work Christmas party. I didn't want to drive to LA wearing the mask of Christmas cheer. The work parties are kinda cool too. If you like radio personalities, everybody shows up. Even Kasey Kasem is there every year. If you don't like radio, then it's a veritable who's who of who cares.

I care: I surrendered the writers' party. In my self pity, I helped somebody else out. I swear it was an accident. It was supposed to be an uncomfortable and awkward party for everyone. Now even I'm looking forward to it. How weird is that? Why is it that when we do something nice, even though our motives are skewed, something nice comes out? Oh, I'm still a firm believer in "no good deed goes unpunished," but sometimes the punishment is worth watching somebody else smile.

Right now my punishment is making milk evaporate. Maybe if I put the plastic carton on the stovetop I can speed up the process.

Mmm…fire…gooood….