Knife and Gilmore Girls

I didn't mean to detail every single happening in my life this Sunday. But, really, this shocks me still.

This week, I'm back to seafood mood. And this week, I am equipped to improve my recipe for baked fish --this week it's tilapia fillet. The improved recipe, by the way, involves a significant amount of limes and lemons. It's interesting how they packed the six fillets individually in a vacuum sealed plastic and signed it with a "Perfect for sashimi size." Eeuuww, how long have they've been frozen like that, and you still want to make sashimis out of these fillets?

Anyhow, I roll the limes, slice and squeeze them to the fillets. I then pick the two lemons, intending to do just the same. I remember wondering how lemons are much more harder on the outside than limes (it's the thicker skin). As I put the knife down and apply a little pressure to slice it, it slips.

And there, I have one inch measured opening in my left hand's middle finger. It drips blood quite a lot. I let the water run, put the finger under it while curse. It feels as if it won't stop until forever and at the same time I feel a raised temperature on the said fingers. Is it from the blood or is it what they call trauma?

I move upstairs to fix myself somehow. I'm amazed of the useful things we keep inside the restroom cabinets, among others: 70-percent rubbing alcohol, sterile gauzes, band-aids. Perfect. I clean the wounded finger--it's still dripping blood heavily-- and immediately put the band-aid tightly around.

I move back to the kitchen to finish the baking.

The end.

Oh, as of now, there has been Gilmore Girls Marathon on TV, I've been parking myself in front of the TV the whole afternoon instead of doing the laundry or working on the paper.

I find this quote particularly "interesting." And by interesting, I don't know, it has slipped once or twice in mind, I wish the situation I am in is parallel to this. Ha ha ha. What a naive little girl. Madamoiselle Yvette, I'm sure you get what I mean.

RORY: What's your damage, Heather?
LORELAI: I think I'm dating Luke.
RORY: What?
LORELAI: I'm not sure. It's just a possibility. I could be wrong.
RORY: But how? When?
LORELAI: I went with him to his sister's wedding, and it was really nice. We had a really good time. We laughed a lot, and we ate, and then we danced.
.
.
.
RORY: What else happened?
LORELAI: Nothing. We spent the evening together. We danced, he walked me home, then he asked me to a movie. All of these things individually do not add up to dating, but together, I don't know. And there was this moment, when he walked me home, where I thought -- I don't know.
RORY: Did you say yes?
LORELAI: When?
RORY: To the movie. Did you say yes?
LORELAI: Yes.
RORY: That sounds like dating to me.
LORELAI: But maybe he didn't mean it as a date thing. Maybe he just needed to get out of the house, and since I'm currently one of the women sitting home, thinking, "If I could only find a man like Aragorn," he picked me.