Against all odds

Last night I did something I've never done before. I cooked myself a burger on the stove.

Well, actually it was a Chili Lime Chicken burger from Trader Joe's, but it was frozen, and I defrosted, sprayed my skillet with Pam, and nervously watched the burner as I prayed it would cook through, all by myself. Slowly, but surely, I assure you, I will learn to appreciate this "joy" of cooking.

(The joy of dish washing, however, continues to elude me, as my skillet is still soaking in the sink alongside the wine glasses my mom and I used four weeks ago.)

Last night I also ran into Tall Guy again. At the exact same place I ran into him last week watching the game. It was my friend Laura's birthday, and she, completely coincidentally, chose to have it at that same bar. What were the odds that I would go there twice in one week? What were the odds of him? What were the odds that my other friend Lauren would turn out to know his friend from college? What were the odds that with those odds, we'd still manage not to talk to or get introduced to each other?

Maybe like the odds of the Red Sox winning the World Series. Again!