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2pm 7.24.11

Scene: a shopping center in Little Tokyo, Los Angeles

“My old roommate moved out and took all the kitchen things.  I need dishes for my place.  I gave my Japanese china to a friend when I moved out of a storage awhile back.”

And so my friend from the south bay drifted to the one place I knew would have exactly what I’d wanted.

We walked past the rows of groceries.  I’ll get some gyoza after I have a pan to cook them with.

As we got to the dishes I ooo’d and ah’d like a little girl at a toy store.  What kind of a woman was I without having things to even cook my everyday foods?

I wanted everything to sync.  My dreams were garden inspired: strawberry plates, pots, and an apron to match. Roses lined the china bowls in varying sizes.  The baking wares would come later.

A smile drew across my face yet again.  I was finally going to have the responsibilities of my own kitchen.  I couldn’t wait to get home.

As we got to the counter my friend stopped me.

“I’ve got this.  You paid a lot to even get into that place.  Don’t worry about it.”

“I can do it.” I told him.

“No.  It’s really ok Jena.  You can get your baking stuff.  Just cook for me sometime?”

“Done.”

We packed up the car to go.  I hugged my friend.

“Why are you doing this for me?”

“Because you’re wonderful and you deserve it.”

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