the best (or worst) $2.75 I ever spent, or An Ode to ZzQuil

can't sleep, won't sleep

I haven't been able to sleep for a month, so yesterday I took matters into my own hands and got some drugz. So what I'm really saying is I put my agency into the hands of a pill bottle. Or something like that.

Everyone knows that I don't do drugs; drugs do me.

Despite the fact that I woke up feeling like I was full of Jell-O, I don't think that was too bad. I came out pretty unscathed. Can't say the same for my stuffed llama though...(I found him hurled to the other side of the room this morning which means I probably threw him in my sleep. Sorry Skeeter).

Anyway, this whole not sleeping bidnez has awoken me (ha! #jokes) to other problems in my life which I have chosen not to face, for whatever dumb natural-man reason. And so, I've decided to disconnect from things that distract me or give me negative feelings. Srsly. I don't have time anymore to be feeling badly about things I cannot control.

It's time to treat mah-self, if that makes any sense. Time to take care of me, and choose myself. It sounds like a no-brainer but I have a hard time with it. I give too much to others and don't leave any for myself. I bet there's some of you reading this who do the same...well, cut it out, dangit. Just stop.

And now, that "ode" I promised you. It makes perfect poetic sense to write this, you know. Most Romantic poets wrote craaazy stuff when they were high on Opium (cough Samuel Coleridge cough). I mean, c'mon. Kubla Khan? Nobody knows what the h that is about. Nobody. Not even ol' Sammy himself. And yes, I was suffering from the hangover that 4 (and I do mean FOUR) sleeping pills caused me.

I could have spent that $2.75 on a Slurpee... (still working on a title)
sometimes I'm sleepy but I just can't sleep
you'd think it were easy to just count sheep
but alas I'm awake and it's 2 AM
so I think I'll make some toast to go with this jam
(stomach grumbles)

one hour later and I've finished Harry Potter...
...Books one through four, now I'm parched for water
I go to the kitchen and what do I see?
A giant Bengal tiger climbing our tree!

I yelp like a kid on the last day of school,
Just want him to know I ain't no fool
He gives me a wink and leaps to the ground,
Which causes an earthquake and an awful sound

The ceiling above my head starts to give way
"Dadgumit I never thought I would go this way!" (I say)
So I eat the peanut butter sandwich which appears in my hand
And I raise the roof, I take a stand (lit'rally)

My roommates wake up, they're glad I was there
To save their lives quickly in the midst of a scare
To think that my insomnia actually saved lives!
When usually it turns me into a zombie with crazy eyes

They're hoisting me on shoulders, grabbing Gatorade
No doubt to pour on my head but I'm still afraid
This is all a dream! No, it couldn't be
I never fell asleep because my brain's on a spree!

But wait--my eyes open, they feel like lead
And here all this time I was laying in bed.
I realize the whole thing was a movie in my brain
And I'm sad cuz I really wanted to taste that Gatorade Rain.

EL FIN

Guys. I wrote that in 20 minutes. I know it's terrible. Just...just...yeah. Does anyone else think ZzQuil sounds like a rapper name? Did you know there's such thing as a Rapper Name Generator? You're welcome.

Today I feel like the boy who did this worksheet.

Alwayz and forever, you guys.

whatever that means...

me whenever my wifi signal is weakening: ♪♫ "I'm holdin' on but I'm barely breathin'..."♪♫

Today I gave myself a flat tire while I was walking, which I thought was physically impossible. How does someone even do that to themselves? 

If you had to choose between world peace and eating chocolate with every meal, would you have dark chocolate or milk chocolate?

I think about things. Sometimes a little too much. My brain doesn't let me sleep at night (especially lately...it's like, yo brain, it is not Daylight Savings Time yettttt #help). I keep thinking about my future and how my present is affecting my future and what I can do to help it along, because the future is now, and it's tomorrow, and I worry too much. That's just it. I need to stop worrying so much. I think if my heart could talk to my brain, it would say, "Baby, can you just chill for like 5 seconds?" Srsly. Calm the h down.

This blog post is just a brain barf, strictly for me. Hopefully you guys don't mind that I plaster all my ape-crazy thoughts on the internet. I feel vulnerable about it sometimes, but I mean...you don't read my journal (except for when I put that on the internet too, oops). Right? Why am I justifying this?! Gah! Overthinking again.

I think it's story time. Story time always brought joy into my heart in elementary school, especially if it was Roald Dahl (and it was always Roald Dahl, lezbehonest).

So once upon a time, I went on this road trip. In Mexico. It was a 12-hour drive (woof) to a beach town, and some ruins, and tacos al pastor. You would drive 12 hours for tacos al pastor if you had ever tasted tacos al pastor. Truuuusssttt me.

???????????????????????

(I'd just like to speak up for Sara here and say she just reached out, with reckless abandon, not thinking about where she was reaching. *drops mic*)

So we're road-trippin it, like white people do, with our Ritz crackers (or the Mexican equivalent, which is actually really grodie) and liters of Jarritos and fruit snacks and Chokis (not the gross tattoo necklaces of 90's. Duh. These were like Chips Ahoy, but 10 zillion times better, amen.). I had my Coldplay playlist ready. I mean. It was just...it was great. Road trips. But we didn't know that road trips in Mexico are a little different than they are in the Estados Unidos.

First of all, there are no rest stops. So if you have to relieve yourself, you gotta wait 'til the next gas station, which will just tempt you to buy more junk food and more Jarritos, which will make you have to go to the bathroom again. It got to the point where we would hold races on who got out of the bathroom first. It gets to be a little hard though, when they charge you for squares of toilet paper, per square.

You wanted proof. I have proof. Sorry mom that this picture exists of my hand holding toilet paper which I paid for and then used. Ugh what a terrible sentence

So our plan-o was, in order to save some monies, we would just have the bus driver drive through the night until we got to the beach.

Ummmmmmmm did you know you can't sleep on buses in Mexico? Like it's physically impossible. Because of the roads. Because there are speed bumps on the freeway and also potholes the size of Montana, so when the bus driver hits them going full-throttle, you wake up in a daze, in the air, thinking "Wait why am I levitating?" and then ka-blam, you land on your tush and your short life flashes before your eyes and all you can think of is the tacos al pastor you'll never get to try because you think you're dying, but you're actually just on a road trip.

I gave up on sleeping at around 1am, and started to take some delirious photos, which I now treasure. It's like seeing through the eyes of a drunk person. #drunkonsleep #represent #imstillwhite

#art

HAHAHA

Then I turned around and took a picture of the people behind me. About 75% of the people in this photo threw up at some point in the evening, because oh yeah, I forgot to mention, but the road we were on curved like a snake for 10 HOURS. Even the bus driver was leaning out his window and barfing. Which is just the most comforting thing, as I'm sure you can imagine.

sorry Italia. The literal translation of the light-up thing is "We Didn't Know What We Were Getting Into When We Started This Please Help Us"

#noitdoesn't

Well, by morning, we had finally reached le beach, and stumbled out of the bus nearly unconscious and covered in each other's barf (realness is what I strive for, yo. realness). The ocean was a glorious sight to see. We moved like people move that have just been discharged from the hospital way too early, if you know what I'm saying.

That day, we sat on the beach all day long. I made a very unwise decision in that I put sunblock on exactly one time, and that was right before I went swimming. By the end of the day I was fried like a Twinkie at the fair. I could barely walk I was so sunburned, and an entire bottle of aloe vera didn't do much besides make me feel like a swamp monster.

I drank about 4 gallons of agua because my body's temperature was jacked up to 1,000 degrees, and of course, that filled up my bladder quite efficiently. I like to know that my bladder is working, you guys. Even if it's an overachiever and causes me to have accidents sometimes, like for example, at the tender age of 7, right before the school bell rang and I was scrambling to put my jacket around my waist when the kid with the rattail mullet came out of class and said "YOU PEED YOUR PANTS!" I think rattail mullets should be outlawed. Just for the record.

So, as you can imagine, that night in Mexico, I did not want to change into my jammies, much less shower, because any movement caused me to feel like ten volcanoes were erupting on the surface of my skin. #ouch

But I had been road tripping for over a day, and there was definitely barf residue on my clothes, and Mexico beach residue, etc, etc etc. So I showered. In Mexico, the toilet and shower area aren't separated by anything. No little wall or tub or anything. It's all the same floor area. Ya feel me? Do you see where this is going? Straight to haaaaaaillllll.

I was showering and minding my own bidnez (like most people do when they are showering....??) when I noticed the toilet water starting to overflow....

Is it weird to get on your knees and pray in the shower?

Yeah. It's weird. I didn't do that.

But I know I screamed, which probz woke up everybody in the hostel, and probably in the country, because YO, toilET WAter was FLOWING TOWARDs me! And I was completely exposed to it! A river of death and disease was making its way toward me, and I felt something like what the Egyptians probably felt when the Red Sea was hurtling towards their perfectly eyelined faces. I know that was sacreligious butttt....

I immediately screeched through the slatted door to my roommates to go get a toilet plunger from the hostel manager/owner/whoever was sitting by the front desk and had a mustache. They came back and reported that duh, there were no plungers up in here because this is Mexico, and the plumbing is super lame and everyone just deals with it.

Why? WHy. I didn't do anything to deserve this. I didn't even use the toilet to make it overflow. So WHERE WAS THE JUSTICE. I resigned myself to this awful fate, while the toilet water started to make its way toward the door....which led to the room....I mean. Get yo hasmat suits on, errybody!

Btw, I was still in showering mode, if you know what I mean. Luckily, being without clothing does not hinder my thinking abilities. I actually get the best ideas while in the shower! So maybe this was meant to be. I can't believe I just said that about almost drowning in toilet water.

Well, I thought as fast as I possibly could, and mustered up all the courage I had left in me, and thrust my fist into the...toilet....

I've never actually typed or written those words. This was going to be one of those oral legends that just gets passed down through generations, and never written down until someone like Shakespeare or Homer got a hold of it and made it sound 10x more eloquent than it actually is.

I used my fist as a plunger, and it worked just fine, but then I used up the entire bottle of soap I had on just that arm.

I wouldn't blame any of you if you never wanted to touch me again.

There is a good ending to this story, however! We got our tacos al pastor. Heh.

And then we drove home on a different road, which wasn't as curvy. 

Road trips. 

I just like to smile, smiling's my favorite

"...and they lived after the manner of happiness"

The other day I was scrolling through this here blog as I often do to make myself feel betta. And I felt happy imagining all those things in my life, and also realizing that some of those things are in my life already.

That got me thinking s'more (mm s'mores), mostly about happiness and why is the world so gloomy anyway? 

Like, f'realz. The world is uh-mazing. Sure, it's full of yuckcentral stuff that makes me cry when I read about it in the news, but I came up with a solution--stop reading the news! Bam! 

"Men are that they might have joy." It doesn't say "men will be that they might have joy..." Nope, that was written in the present tense because yo, it means we're supposed to be happy right now.

I know about sadness and suffering and depression and all that. I know it's hard to see the sun through the clouds on some days, and those days feel infinitely longer than others. But I know it's possible to find even a small sliver of happiness in there. It will get you through.

So the next time you feel a warm fuzzy coming on, don't push it away because you're upset or sad about something else in your life. Let yourself be happy for just a few seconds, and just watch what happens. 

The corners of your mouth will start to turn up and soon people around you will be smiling too because you'll be smiling and then maybe there won't be as many sad news stories because you made the world just a little bit happier.

Yo, I know this post is sounding reallllly optimistic and sometimes people want real-ness. Well I'm here to argue that happiness is just as real as sadness and sorrow. They go togetha. 

I came across this quote last week and it made me think:

I actually attack the concept of happiness. The idea that - I don’t mind people being happy - but the idea that everything we do is part of the pursuit of happiness seems to me a really dangerous idea and has led to a contemporary disease in Western society, which is fear of sadness. It’s a really odd thing that we’re now seeing people saying “write down 3 things that made you happy today before you go to sleep”, and “cheer up” and “happiness is our birthright” and so on. We’re kind of teaching our kids that happiness is the default position - it’s rubbish. Wholeness is what we ought to be striving for and part of that is sadness, disappointment, frustration, failure; all of those things which make us who we are. Happiness and victory and fulfillment are nice little things that also happen to us, but they don’t teach us much. Everyone says we grow through pain and then as soon as they experience pain they say “Quick! Move on! Cheer up!” I’d like just for a year to have a moratorium on the word “happiness” and to replace it with the word “wholeness”. Ask yourself “is this contributing to my wholeness?” and if you’re having a bad day, it is.

– Hugh Mackay

I agree with most of what this guy is saying....I wouldn't say I "attack" the idea of happiness, but I do think we often push away real emotions because of the world we live in. If it doesn't look good on facebook or instagram, we don't want people to see it. 

I guess the main point is, take time to feel things. Don't let anyone take away your right to feel, or make you feel dumb for feeling anything. Pain is something you carry with you, and happiness is too. They go together in that metaphorical suitcase we carry around, so wear 'em proud. 

Sadness is important and you should feel it; but be careful not to let yourself drown in it. Happiness is important too and you should let yourself feel it. Don't push it away like I sometimes do. 

And that concludes today's ruminating blerg post.

Oh p.s. go watch this if you're feeling sad. I promise you will be happy after you watch it. KTHXBYE.

pretty sure autocorrect is just an iPhone's version of a Freudian slip

WHY ISNT' EvERYoNE READING THIS~~~???

Okay. So I have been shopping for iPhone cases for a shameful amount of time. And if I see one more case with a chevron pattern on it I'm probably going to punch myself in da face.

The other night I was falling asleep and the tune of some song got stuck in my head. Just like, FIVE CHORDS, yo, but I could not get it out of my brain, because my brain wanted to figure out what song it was and I just couldn't do it so I kept singing the same five chords to myself. Does anyone else's brain think that they have time to be singing 5-chord songs at 12:30 am (I mean besides Taylor Swift)? No?? You're lucky.

This blog is a dadgum mess. Just like moi.

According to the Facebook ads, I am
a) single
b) need a new phone (beat you to it this time, f-beezy)
c) Mexican (pretty much true)
d) still single (I get a lot of these ads, okay)

Last night I learned that you can't brainstorm rap lyrics in the shower, which is a major bummer because the shower is where I brainstorm everything, even my grocery list. But this is what I came up with: "Feelin' real tough while I'm standin' in the buff." ??????????????????????????

Life lesson: don't write song lyrics when you're nekkid showering.

This is my inspiration right now (shout out to my homie Caitlyn for showing it to me):

(p.s. this is actually what it's like to work at a natural food store. ACKshully)

And while we're on the subject of music, NICKEL CREEK IS BACK TOGETHER.  I can die now. Well wait, first I have to listen to their new album 1,567 times. Then I can die and you can play this song at my funeral.

It feels like Crazy Craig from Parks & Rec took over this blog post. Anybody else gettin' that vibe?

me too, Craig. me too.

Woof. Somebody bring me more pain medications. 

Peace. But first, more funny gems from the internet this week because I jUST can'T. 

ha. HAHA. I read an article about this later. Apparently JCPenney was tweeting "with mittens on." So is that the new code for "I'm completely wasted"?

"Hey officer, I know it might seem like I'm drunk cuz I just hit that pole over there but I was just driving with mittens on."

....


I think these are the greatest things ever.


I honestly want to put this on my wall.

and since we're still on the subject of daft punk (not really...)


mmbye now. I really need to sleep more.

feelin' sad, lookin' rad

#important

Oof. That's all. That's the only complaint I am going to offer up at this time. I'll leave the rest to your imagination. But really, I'm fine. Errybody's like "yo, save it for your journal." And don't worry, folks. I do. I think blogs are for certain things, but not everything. The End.

Do you know what I do when I'm feeling lame? MAKE A HAPPY LIST. Yeah. You should try it. Here's a demo, because I care about you guyz. Mom, I hope you read that last sentence in your special gangsta accent (anybody who hasn't heard my mom's gangsta voice should make it one of their resolutions in life...because...srsly).

1. childhood memories, such as this painfully common tale: the other day I was turning on the TV (alert the presses). This triggered a flashback to the days when mom would leave to run errands and we would have chores to do. Which we would sort of do, but then halfway through we'd get distracted by Nickelodeon. So as soon we heard the garage door come up it was like

Oh shoot where's the broom where's the mop where's the sink where's the remote I gotta turn off the TV HI MOM HIIII

amiriiiiite?

2) weird animal twitter accounts. let's talk about this. I mean really, discuss. 

3) whenever I catch someone semi-attractive staring at me (does not happen often, people). 

whAT? ME?!!

But then it's kind of creepy, so I run away.

4) this embarrassing moment I had at church on Sunday, which is now a funny memory. but still sort of tender, so don't bring it up for another week, okay? 

uhh why is she sharing all of her embarrassing stuff on the INTERNET?

Scene: I got a new calling (which I know nothing about, n-o-t-h-i-n-g), so of course I had to stand up in church when they sustained me. WALP. Something non-introverts don't undastan is that standing up in front of lots of people, even if they are your friends and you know they won't throw tomatoes at you, is FLIPPIN' RIDICULOUS.  

Like, I'd rather drink grape juice through my nose. 

So I was feeling awkward of course, because I was the only one standing as everyone looked at me, and WHat diD I DO?! 

WINKED AT EVERYONE. Yes, winked. I threw the entire ward the ol' wink-face, and then in a split-second felt all the regret and terror of the universe pressing down on me. 

And I thought, "Oh, I didn't actually just wink, did I? I just thought about it."

But then everyone laughed sort of uncomfortable-like, and I knew 

it was real-life. 

So, public apology to my ward for winking at you in church. All of you.

excuse me while I get on the next flight to Africa, KBYE.

5) spending lots of monies (well, like 50 bones, but that's a lot for me, yo) on BOOKS. Just books. Not textbooks. Straight up lit-rature. 
So much excite. 

6) dogs. dogs are funny and I really want one. also, they don't talk. bonus!

7) I have basically lived off of chocolate and chocolate for the past 7 days (that wasn't a typo). You would too if you worked at a place that basically has an unlimited chocolate supply.

Well, this post started out having a point and now it's just....well, it's just me. 

Peace and blessins. That video blog is going to happen soon!

translation: maybe in 2 months.

what kind of girl am I, anyway?

mcfrenzy tip: if you're stressed, depressed, and overdressed (like me right now), look up.

This has been on my mind a lot. A lot. Translation: since before I started blogging again. Actually, probably right about the time I stopped blogging on ye olde blog, and had a weird funk when I couldn't/didn't want to write. But I've found that even (and probably especially) at times when I didn't feel like writing at all, that was when I needed it the most. #lifemetaphor

So, I must write. And this is important to me, so I'd better get it down somewhere while my thoughts are (sort of, mostly not) organized.

I've been in this weird funk since graduation. Which was....uh....2 years ago this April. TWO. What the carp (yes, the fish). The morning after the ceremony, I woke up in our hotel room and my dad said to me, "Kenzie. This is the first day of the rest of your life."

I guess that's true. Once a big milestone is accomplished, you feel this sort of freedom. You're not necessarily a brand new person, but you've finally done something that was looming ahead of you forever, like the end of a rainbow. P.S. Has anybody ever successfully gotten to the end of one of those? It used to be on my bucket list. Until I turned twelve.

Well anyway. We all have those huge ambitions in life that usually take a long time, and once we've done them, it feels kind of...off. Errybody knows what I'm talking about. And most of the time you're stuck there saying "Um, now what do I do...heheh...?"

Let's get real for a sec. I was good at school. I'm not saying I was a good student (and I guess I was but that's not the point I'm making, homies)...I mean, like....I liked being in the library. I liked the feeling of bustin' out a 10-page research paper in a day (but I don't ever want to do that again, kthxbye). I loved being in class (especially English class...seriously who wants to let me take their English class for them?). And I did that for most of my existence, until 2012, at which point I had to re-evaluate muh lyfe, and in so doing, I lost my footing. For a long time.

I'm still regaining my balance. I'm trying to figure out who the heck I am, if I'm not a full-time student. And I know I can keep learning even though I'm not in school..ha. I've actually been learning a lot, mostly through trials and experiences which I did not ask for. Heavenly Father is a perfect parent. So I know that it will work out. I know that from experience.

So. Another growing pain (which has been nudging me for a couple years now) is occupying most of the space in my brain right now. And while I was in the shower yesterday (too graphic? probably. but it's my THINKING PLACE!) all of these ideas started flooding over me right along with the shower water! I mean! Synchronicity, anyone?

...well I thought it was cool.

I'm a little late to this resolution game, and trust me, these aren't new, and I'm not going to say that they'll be solved in a year, but I have to put these down. I can't carry them around no mo. Ya feel me?

The thing is, I need to start being the person I want to be today. I'm not going to wait anymore. I'm not going to wait until certain events line up in my life to become a better person. I'm pretty sure that's not how faith works. Faith moves forward, and fear + pride freeze us up. They stop progression and ruin everything. Ain't nobody got time fo dat! Srsly. Like, I don't have time to be wasting.

First of all, I need to stop feeling guilty for things that aren't my fault. Helloooo, I'm pretty sure 98% of the female world population experiences this emotion. Guilt is only useful when it moves us to change our actions, and also if it comes from something wrong we did. I have this problem (and it's embarrassing to admit), but yo, I'm like the Rogue of guilt (you know..the crazy girl from X-men). If somebody is having a hard time with something, I see how it could possibly be my fault, and transfer the guilt onto myself. This. Is. Not. Smart. Nor. Is. It. Healthy. So if anybody out there that's reading this is also participating in this activity....stop. I'm serious. Just cut it out. You don't have time to feel bad for other people's mistakes and your own. It's too much.

Also, guess what? It's not really making use of the Atonement. Alma 7:11 lists all of the things Christ took upon Himself, and it really was everything. So don't carry what you don't have to. It will drag you down and give you jellybones in your arms. Trust me.

So, that's something I want to become--someone who shows compassion and love to others, while at the same time avoiding feeling guilty for their problems. Clarification moment: one of our baptismal covenants is to bear others burdens. I believe in doing that of course. But there comes a point when I take it too far, and start to believe that their burdens are my fault. Or that I'm not carrying it enough. Make sense? Richard G. Scott says it better...and he's an apostle. So I'd suggest reading that there talk.

Another thing I need to work on (majorly) is my faith. I struggle with believing in miracles. For others, yes, I believe in them. But for myself...not as much. I gotta work on my first person faith. It's okay (and also preferable to a happy lifestyle) to believe in miracles. I'm pretty sure Heavenly Father supports that! He can't bless us if we don't believe He will. So do the opposite of what the world teaches...and believe in good things! Here's another awesome talk for that...it changed my life.

I feel like I just gave a talk in church....like I lit'rally almost just typed "In closing..." Oh gash. You guyz. I know you expect funny posts and ridiculous gifs most of the time. And that's what I'll give you. But sometimes, I gotta wax poetic. Or shave poetic. Ha. What? W-H-A-T. I know what you're all thinking.

I think this post is long enough. I have something funny up my sleeve...so no worries, homies. I'll be back with more of dis:

This is art. 

You know why? You could lit'rally caption it with any bad situation and then BAM.

That moment when you get to class and realize you have a test.

That moment when you're hungry and realize you have no food.

That moment when you're busy doing life and then someone is mean to you.

That moment when you're blogging and you realize your post is sort of a rambling mess but you put it on Facebook anyway so the whole internet can find it. 

Wait.

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.