Brownies

I was driving the other day home from work. It's not a long drive, but when the only source of music you have is one that you've been listening to since 10th grade, it's a time to reflect. The music doesn't interest you, the homes aren't anything special, just look out at the tumble weeds and fields and think.

Well I got to a thinking the other day. And I was thinking about how PERFECT my life was. Really, I have 18 credits, two jobs, live with my very best friends and actually feel pretty confident in the boy department. Confident enough, that I am at least happy with the possibilities and directions I could move.

Anyway, it never works out with me and boys.. we know that's half the reason I even blog. I love just talking about love and not being in love and wanting love and other peoples love. 

I know I trial is coming. There's always a trial, in order to grow and be stronger, it can be health or a class, it can be drama or as it always is... it could be things not working out after all. You were expecting something different than what you got to know... you were on two different levels of feelings... you just have no luck at all. Or in my case, replace you with I. I have no luck.

So when I said my prayers that night. I prayed with concern and sincerity, PLEASE give me a trial that doesn't take my hope and happiness concerning that part of my life away from me..... And He listened. I was tried.

I have gotten some pretty crappy pranks in my college days.

Moldy nasty nast water from T-Flitt falling on my head.

I freaked.

A block of cheese STOLEN.

I freaked.

Toilet water full of "frozen pee" ...it was jello.

I freaked.

Note with raw chicken.

Possibly the worst.

I keep getting the same trial and I have yet to handle it in an acceptable way.

So here's the latest.

I like a boy.

A boy likes me.

The boy who likes me is not the same boy I like.

This boy tries to kiss me.

I deny him.

He freaks.

We talk it out.

We were good friends.

Or so I thought.

He stole my guitar.

I freaked.

K, so Heavenly Father is giving me the SAME trial every time, the same problem and situation and what do I do every time. I react. I do not respond. 

Last night he broke into my house.

He left brownies with a note that said we <3 you girls.

So of course this anonymous letter looks hopeful.

We eat the brownies. 

And I wish you could've all seen her face.

EMILEE was SOOOOOOOOO excited that we got this plate or brownies.

We just thought it was the sweetest thing EVER.

Collette really wanted brownies tonight,

she was so happy, that she ate two!!!

Wake up today.

Go to class.

Get a text.

About the plumbing.

I was realizing someone stinking up our bathroom

and this person said "I heard you girls would know something about the plumbing"

I said oh we have toilet issues of our own.. we didn't do anything.

Same guys says he baked the brownies.

Here I am thinking I'm just being funny... because the timing worked out PERFECT with another conversation. Well, really I was confirming their prank had worked. Still hadn't clicked.

Through texting what I think is a funny conversation and thanking this man for the brownies...

I was so so happy.

I was saying "thanks so much for the brownies.. they were sooo good"

Next thing I know.

It clicked!

I find out there are LAXATIVES in the brownies.

I figure out it was this boy.

I was tempted to freak.

Revenge?

Call the police?

Call his father?

Still might find a way to incorporate some kind of authority.

BUT, I didn't cry.

I didn't say anything I regret.

I did, however, tell him what's up.

And he said, "I don't know the facts"

Then tell me the GOSH DANG FACTS!!!!

How am I supposed to know the facts if you don't tell me.

And what does he do?

Nothing.

At first I didn't know what to say.
Emilee suggested this, "Listen buddy, I've had to SHIZ ALL DAY!"

My poor roommate was laying on the ground crying under a blanket, cold when everyone else was hot and running to the toilet ALL day because those STUPID brownies. Not even just one... she ATE TWO!

And I told him that.

And she broke down. 

She hasn't cried since she's been in college.

It's her first three weeks out of her house.

She's just a young freshmen.

And the victim of laxative brownies.

So we get her a blessing.

I tell him.

He still doesn't care.

No apology.

Just a laugh in my face.

And in the end? 

Who's happy?

Him--- the boy known to make an innocent girl cry and miss class all day,

the boy who couldn't handle rejection,

the boy who served the Lord for two years,

lived for 21 years and doesn't have a conscience....

or friends at this point....

or me?

I'd say me.

Yeah, this was ridiculous to deal with. And when I saw poor Collette crying I got all mom on her myself. I got choked up. That's some serious emotion about this situation. I didn't cry that these brownies were made for me... because that's not even worth it. But I did feel bad that these were meant for me, she felt like death and he didn't even care. How could someone NOT CARE?

Thank goodness for priesthood holders and amazing men with the power to heal.

This was a bonding experience for me and my roommates.

We like to call it BATHROOM BONDING.

 :) :) :)

I wouldn't suggest it though!

It's not everyday that everyone in the house is having diarrhea and laughing about it.

We think it was absolutely hilarious how excited we were to eat these brownies

and how unexcited we were in turn....

but we don't think you're hilarious! 

It is funny.

You are not.

In fact mr. neighbor. You're pathetic. 

Let us know when you wanna grow up :)

Until then we'll just be febreezing this apartment :)