It's no big secret that I can't cook for shit. For some unknown reason, learning to cook for me is like learning physics (I have failed every single physic paper since high school and my best physic result was a D-) . Makes absolutely no sense at all. In my family, cooking is a big deal. A very big deal. Everyone in the family cooks and they all cook well... except for me, that is. It's not that I don't want to try. It's just that I can't. My own mother banned me from the kitchen once. She said that I was slowing her down and by the rate we were going, we were most likely able to have our dinner the next night. Even my grandmother says I'm too slow in the kitchen.

I've tried to assure everyone that cooking shouldn't be such a big deal in this day and age. We've got the microwave oven and things pretty much comes ready made in cans. Perhaps being Asian, people here thinks highly of girls who can cook. Something about serving your husband by cooking him a meal when he comes from work. Plus a daughter-in-law who can really cook is truly a gem in the family. But I thought, if I serve my husband by giving him great sex all the time, then he shouldn't complain about my cooking skills (or the lack of it). Too bad the sex thing doesn't work for the rest of the family huh?

Here are the reasons why I can never ever succeed in cooking any meal:
1. Too much of a perfectionist and very meticulous. I have OCB (obsessive compulsive behavior). Everything must be chopped in the exact same size. I've spent half an hour chopping onions real carefully so that they all have the same size. I've even taken the liberty to use the smaller knife to trim the onions that were only slightly bigger than the rest.

2. The urge to keep things tidy. People tend to do the tidying up after they've cooked. Not for me. That just won't do. My kitchen counter must always be clean. I tend to have anxiety attacks whenever friends come over to cook. If you're gonna start frying something, please please please clear up the mess on my kitchen counter first.

3. No dishes in the kitchen sink. I can't stand having dirty dishes in my sink, even for a short while. This can really slow me down because for every bowl and plate I use, I must wash it first before proceeding to my next cooking activity.

4. TV gets my attention. The problem with living in an apartment is that your living room is close to the kitchen. So from the kitchen I can watch my tv. Everyone knows what a TV junkie I am. So much so that if someone broke into the house while I'm watching tv and stole every single damn thing I have, I probably won't know about it. Or worst, I won't even get up to stop the bugger.

5. Short attention span. I sometimes forget what it is I'm cooking.

6. Just checking. People have gotten annoyed with me in the kitchen as I tend to ask the same question not once, not twice, but three times. Hey better safe than sorry. Know that chinese proverb "rice turned into porridge" (I think it goes like that, or am I translating the malay version "nasi sudah menjadi bubur"?.

7. Small fire only. I don't trust myself around fire. I have burnt myself so many times that it's better to keep the fire really small even if that means you'll be spending the next 4 hours in the kitchen. My bestfriend and I once spent 2 hours in the kitchen cooking up chicken soup (from Campbell's nonetheless), frying burger (each had 2 pieces), baked beans (again from the can) and toast bread because I insisted on keeping the fire really small.

8. Raw, medium done or well done? Maybe due to the lighting from my stove, I can never tell when something's cooked or not. So it's either uncooked or too cooked (yeap, it's burnt all right if it's black all around).

9. Poisonous gas. I don't know why is it that when I cook, I tend to create a lot of smoke. Even when I'm just frying eggs. I've almost killed everyone in the house from the smoke of my cooking.

10. It's MY way, My way or the highway. My mom's real sweet. She used to leave cooking instructions for me, such as how to fry chicken or make her delicious chicken soup. I'd follow the instructions step by step, read the lines 3 times and would still get the whole damn thing wrong. Either she's bad at writing instructions or me unable to read, being dyslexic and all.

11. I don't know my tools. If I need to stir that soup, I will look for whatever scoop available or something that looks like it, such as the eating spoon. A napkin to me is the same thing as a paper towel or a servet or tissue paper. If I need to cut something and the butcher's knife is the closest one available, trust me, I will use that. As a matter of fact, I will use whatever tools as a means to an end.

Thank God for technology. At least I know how to operate the microwave oven. So if some guy wants to marry me, he's just gonna have to live with the fact that the only food I'll prepare for him is going to come from a food company, packed in a can and heated in 2 minutes. I guess it's time to sharpen my sex skills so he won't complain huh?

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