I had an existential meltdown that lasted two weeks. I sat down at my neatly organized desk with the mind to deliver this awe-inspiring, thought-provoking update about the true differences between the sexes and I couldn't remember my log-in name or password. What was my name? If I don't know my own name, what does that say about me? What is my
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I tend to eye ball it when it comes to measuring. My mom does the same thing, and while it takes a bit of practice, I've gotten good at some things. Especially desserts.
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So, you don't subscribe to the cuppa-cuppa-cuppa tradition of cooking? I once perused a cookbook in a Barnes N Noble and it reminded me too much of an instruction manual on how to set my VCR, so I left it alone.
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