We had the Indian theme party on Saturday, just the way Susie likes it to be. She invites people over to her places, supply a lot of alcohol and make them cook for her. I, as usual, became the best amature sous chief you can ever dream of in town. I observe and guess the chef's next move, I am like the worm inside the cook's stomach, constantly think ahead of the chef. I know exactly when I should hand over the spatula or clean the cutting board. I also julian cut or dice any veggie given the dimensions (sometimes I visualise how the veggie should look in a dish without asking, amazingly, it always works out fine).
I finally met another woman who can make louder laughing sound than me. Sunary is such a character. A typical New Yorker, American, being trapped in the small oriental girl's body. We had a blast. Suchi, Arif and Semeer were also extraordinary. The Indian lady Suchi drinks wine, eats everything and looked so young as a mother of a 8 year old. I hurried back to Nyngyocho by the last train with 3 huge bags stuffing a small stereo system. Half drunk, but still managed to take it home alright. Gee, I have been partied too hard these days.
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