sometimes to help me sleep I make up recipes in my head....mostly of brownies

So, confession. You mean besiiiides the one she just put up there as her blog title? Srsly. SRSLY. 

Once upon a time I lived in Rexburg and I had a cruuush on dis boy. And I was trying to be real creative in getting this boy to like me too, and maybe possibly perhaps before the world ended, ask me out on a date. Specifically, on a date to the taco bus, because I couldn't think of another place I wanted to go in Rexburg (still can't).

One night before bed, my bff/roommate Chelsea B. had a suggestion. She was wearing her thinking cap, or as I like to call it,

the birth control shower cap

behold (and it wasn't as "cute" as this one, yo)

hence the name.

So she was wearing this shower cap and said to me, very matter-of-factly,

"Heyyy I have an idea!" This is about where it all went downhill (my pride and dignity). But stay with me, kids. The juicy bits are coming.

She suggested that we have a bake-off, and whoever lost had to wear the BCS Cap (I just realized what that looks like and it has nothing to do with college football, nothing) to the grocery store. The grocery store that other people go to.

What other kind of grocery store issss there? Does she mean, like, 7-11?

Okay. So obviously I agreed to this because I was conceited about my baking skillz (#idaydreamaboutbrownies) and I also saw this as a way to make my crush a judge in this bake-off, while simultaneously getting him to like me because BROWNIES. Ya dig?

So, one fine day, after science class, I was walking past the Taylor building (the one that looks like stairs)

(visual aid)

and I just so happened to spot my crush! Ha. HAHA. All of you who know anything about Rexburg and liking another human will know that I did not "just so happen to spot" him there, because I had figured out that he would be there at the precise time I left my science class, and so, I planned it. DUH. The lives of my future children were at stake (or so I thought).

I pretended not to see him (still playin' games at the tender age of 20, ew) and of course he saw me, and ran to catch up to me, and I was like "Oh hellllooo there, so-and-so, I didn't even SEEE you!"

What a fool. I really want to salmon-slap myself in this scene of my life. Just get me a DeLorean so I can go back to this one moment, and deliver a wet fish to my left cheek. KTHXBye.

So we small-talked and eventually I got out the words "brownies" and "bake-off" and "will you be a judge" and what boy doesn't want free brownies....?? So he said yes, and scampered off to class, and I floated home on a cloud, completely oblivious to the humiliation that awaited me in the too-soon future.

The things girls do for boys who don't even care. I mean. Really.

The day of reckoning came (a.k.a. Sunday. How appropriate!). I made these brownies that were...okay, so I purposely chose them because 95% of the internet had claimed they were the best brownies ever. Here's the recipe, yo. And yeah, they were dang good.

But Chelsea, that sly fox. Chelsea made coconut dream bars, and wouldn't you know it, but the bishop's FAVORITE FOOD IS COCONUT. Like, why. I feel like there was some kind of secret agreement there, but okay, I'm not gonna be a poor sport four years later. Seriously. Be more Christlike, McKenzie.

So we took our treats to the waiting area because my crush was there, and so was half of the elders quorum, and the bishop, and they all partook, and the votes were tallied. Oh, and so there wasn't any bias, we didn't tell anyone whose treat was whose. But I sort of blew it when Bishop said, "oooh coconut is my favorite!" and I blurted out, "CHelsEA you CHEATED!"

....

Subtlety isn't my thing, yo.

So, my crush-meister knew the brownies were mine, and therefore he declared, with his eyes rolled back into his head, mind you, "THESE ARE THE BEST BROWNIES IN THE HISTORY OF BROWNIES."

Swoon.

Well, so, the votes were cast aaaand it was a tie. A bloody tie. I skipped home even though it was snowing (those of you who were with me this past Monday night know that skipping isn't something I should participate in, esPECIALLY in the snow, but I was feeling super optimistic on this particular evening back in 2010). I skipped and skipped and didn't even tripped. #poet

We got home and there was a guy in our apartment visiting one of our roommates. There were some leftovers of our goodies on the counter, and he was helping himself to them. This was a regular thing, actually. Boys would come over and just start eating out of our fridge like it wasn't no thang.

Flashback to my first semester, fall 2008. Our FHE brother came over, and without a single word, opened the refrigerator door and started rifling through our foodstuffs. RIFLING. I tell you, if I have ever been close to murdering someone in my lyfe, it was probably...well, okay, I've never been close to murdering anyone (gosh, how famous is this blog now? heh. heheh....????) but I DIGRESS. He was EAting our FOOD without even asking.

So, this same boy was doing the same thing, but with our treats, and at this point I was so blissful that I didn't even care. Until he said, with his mouth stuffed full of diabetes, "mmmm, yeah, these coconut bars....yeaaaassss...."

My eyes got wide and I shook my head and I said "no no no, try the brownies! The brownies!" Chelsea got this look of jubilation and triumph on her face like nothing I'd ever seen. It was like:

meanwhile, I was all:

He said "No. These. Coconut. Bars." And, well, the tie was broken. My fate was set in stone. I was going to have to wear the birth control shower cap to the grocery store. I mean, oh well, right? Who needs eternal marriage anyway?

Also, I made the horrid mistake of telling my crush about this terror the next night in the library. I mean, he was part of it, right? It was all supposed to make him like me, and then I told him about wearing the shower cap to the grocery store. Is it any wonder I was single? He actually thought it was pretty funny, albeit a little weird, and so I took that as further encouragement. And maybe hope.

A few days after the bake-off went down, Chelsea announced to me, rather abruptly I might add, that she "needed" to go grocery shopping. Oh H no. I tried to make up some excuse about how I "wasn't eating" and "didn't really need groceries" and "food is for babies" and bla bla bla but she saw through my transparent excuses. I dragged my feet to her car, the shower cap dangling from my fingers.

It felt just like this:

(replace dat ring with a shower cap because it was 12:30 am when I wrote this and who has time to photoshop at 12:30 am)

Well, we got to the parking lot of Broulim's (I know those of you who have never lived in Rexburg won't know how to pronounce that. It's okay. #notjudgingyou). Immediately Chelsea ordered me to put the shower cap on. I said "Don't be hasty now!" We hadn't even gotten into the store yet. But she was anxious for the humiliation show to begin.

I had stupidly told my crush-manster not to go the grocery store that day because of what was going to go down. He kindly asked me what time exactly, so he would know what time to tell the news reporters, and his grandmother's sister, and maybe CNN. What a gem. I told him to avoid it "around 5pm." WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME. 

When I re-read this story later in life I'm gonna choke on my Marshamallow Mateys. For sure that is happening because I was 100% a doofus and 100% not ready to be marriaged.  I'm cringing just reading it now.

"Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for not letting me contribute to the human gene pool at this time in my life when I wore shower caps to the grocery store and didn't even keep that a secret from my potential love interests. Amen."

#gratitude

Welp, we got inside and I placed the shower cap on mah head, hands trembling, but my face ready to stare down anyone who gave me the hairy eyeball. Turns out, not that many people cared. But the ones who did notice, well, they noticed. Like, their eyes did not stop following me for a good 20 seconds. I was like, "Hellooo, never seen a shower cap before? There's some on aisle 5!" Just kidding. I said nothing. It was all part of the ruse. I was supposed to act like it was normal.

I slowly and painfully picked out some apples and other produce and other groceries, and tried reallllly hard not to bust up laughing. It was probably the hardest thing I have ever done.

Lit'rally. 

Eventually we got to the checkout. Chelsea had no problem controlling her laughter. In fact, she was stifling it the whole time, and not really trying to, and laughing at me, which I'm sure caused more people to be like "What the deviled eggs is happeninnnng here, like what kind of torture is this" and then I had to face the checkout lady. She stared at me for probably the longest of anybody in the store.

Her eyes kept going from my shower cap to my face, shower cap, face, shower cap, faaaaace. She finally said, "So, hooow are you today?"

Immediately my brain sent a signal to my mouth to say "Feeling very clean, thanks."

But I didn't, because that would have blown my cover. Instead I said something boring. "Fiine, fine, thanks. It's debit."

She looked like she was about to laugh, which would've caused me to throw the cap into the air like I was graduating high school all over again, and start cackling hysterically, and run out of the store with my bags hitting my legs furiously, buuuut. I had to finish what I started.

So I calmly took my stuff, and got out of there. Chels and me laughed all the way to her car. And I wore the shower cap all the way home, where I put another nail in the coffin and let Chelsea take my picture. 

In the end, I told my crushfriend that in order to see this awful picture, he had to do something drastic, like, uhh, take me on a date to the taco bus. Of course he agreed because this picture was gold--straight from the humiliation leprechaun's rainbow. What did I just say?

Obviously things did not work out with that boy. But me and the taco bus are still on great terms.