Bad Betty Crocker

So I found out today that this party I was invited to requires that I bring a dessert. And I'm pretty much expected to make it. Or else I suck because all the other chicks there will show up with amazing Susie homemaker type concoctions so I'll feel like a total jackass if I show up with Keebler Soft Batch storebought cookies. And I've been tainted by gourmet food so I'll feel like a loser unless I do something spectacular. I'm thinking about making truffles. Well, not really thinking, because I already got the stuff to make them. So I guess it's a little late to change my mind. Even though I probably will. Pretty much everyone will laugh no matter what I do since I'm the queen of staying out of the kitchen. It's ridiculous, really.

I don't fit in with the girls. I don't fit in with the boys. Don't cook. Don't clean. Don't shop. Don't diet. But I do talk on the phone and I do watch chick flicks. And I watch football and I stuff my face like a pig. I don't like driving but I love riding. I like big fluffy pillows all over my bed but I hate putting them on and taking them off every day, so I don't. I love kitchen stuff, but I never go in there. I want to be pretty but I don't want to use products. I am a walking contradiction in almost every category. I don't make sense. Not even to myself.