I 1:22am

I'm using the correct flour. The correct flour is necessary. If you bake, you have to do this with geometric precision. You have to sift. Sift. Sift. You have to, or it bloats and it curdles. Curdles is the new word on Jody's tear-away calendar. As if she's so profound. Just because she has great style, doesn't mean she is deep. She's not. My clothes don't have rhinestones and I've definitely been around the block before. No one can take that away from me. Sift a few more minutes, and voila. Or it curdles. And/or. 
Last night Daniel told me he had to get up early for work. He's a doctor for god's sakes. Don't they make their own hours? I mean Mark, he can get away with that because he's a fireman and they have to always be on time. He bought me this beautiful Fossil watch with a ginormous face, so I'm always on time, too. He gave me a functional, beautiful cubic zirconia gift. He likes my garter belt. Daniel likes my watch, too. Just my watch and my earrings on.
Busy was talking about some superhero whose cape got caught in a revolving door. Shots to the chest, and he was history. Maybe he could've used a watch. Sift. Sift. Sift. 

Fontana patted the sifter brusquely and set it down on folded paper towels. Her daughter Partridge sat at the dining table, pushing around kale with a plastic fork.

"Partridge! I'll set the timer on you. Finish your greens and bring me your homework. Five minutes."

Partridge stared at the waif at the counter. Erect, brunette, too young to be aging, but not far from it. A young mom. Last night, Javier took Partridge to Rancho Viejo for dinner. He let her order a steak burrito the size of her head. He wasn't bad. She took a bite of the vile weed and thought, I hope I get another burrito before he goes away.

Fontana checked her watch and added the baking soda. Dry ingredients first, always first. Mother insisted. She's a banshee, but she can bake. Fontana stalked a foot to the fridge to grab the Barefoot Sauvignon. She poured a glass and swished.

"Done, Mom." Partridge showcased her clean plate. A distraction from her full chipmunk cheeks. Fontana faced her child and inspected the plate. White. Not a porcelain white. Not pearly whites white. How does Busy have such pearly teeth? She smokes fucking Pall Malls. And they're pearls. They're mouth jewelry. I bet she used that lemon juice solvent I found on pinterest. She was probably listening to me talking to Cris. I think she listens more than she wants us to think. Busy's so goddamn special. So what! she's best friends with her mother and she is like a lesbian with Valentina. Just because she knows the German in that Red Balloons song doesn't mean a thing. I'm making carrot cake. And food changes the world. It's the quickest way to a man's heart.