My Love of the Brownie Pan

Why do they call them Brownie pans anyway? That makes them so one-sided. Like hey, I'm a Brownie Pan. I only hold gooey, delicious brownies. Full of chocolate and slightly undone centers. Warm squares of chocolatey goodness.

I've had this so called Brownie pan for a while now, and I've pretty much only made brownies in it since I got it.

But recently I had this brilliant idea to bake some BBQ chicken in it. And that turned out delicious.

And you know what else?

It was the most perfect portion size for just little ole me.

So I did something crazy. I made lasagna in my "brownie pan."

Oh, the horror it must have felt when it was full of cheesy, saucy noodley goodness instead of danity chocolate squares.

And again. Perfect portion sizes. I didn't have to eat lasagna for 65 days.

This is huge, people. And please don't tell me one of you, who is smarter than me, figured this out long ago. Shame on you for not sharing with your fellow single people or two person homes.

Total casserole game changer.

So long to my "brownie pan." And hello to my new I'm-gonna-use-this-for-everything pan. I think my next creation will be poppy seed chicken.

The Pink Slip

What causes bad relationships?

Bad dates? Forced conversation? Being set-up?

I've been on some bad dates, struggled through forced conversation and have relentlessly told everyone I know not to set me up on dates. And yet I've still had bad relationships.

It's been a little over two years since my last relationship. And I've just been doing my thing. Someone will come along, right?

Aside from the fact that the majority of men who come into my workplace are either married or seriously dating someone, I have met zero eligible bachelors. It could be because they all think I'm jail bait because I don't look over the age of 18.

And then yesterday something that's never happened to me before happened.

It's just been mostly me, the Boss and the Boss Lady at work this past week since Management went to have his surgery. So if it get busy, we are all busy.  I typically lose blocks of time when I sit down with customers, and the same was true yesterday.

I was with a lady helping her make her shoe choices and talking about what her PT said. Once I was done, I noticed the Boss Lady had taken a phone message for me. She wrote it down on one of those pink message slips.

Y'all, I've never had someone call and ask for me before, unless you count my mom and her running friends.

I assumed it was a customer calling me with questions. But I didn't recognize the name, and Boss Lady wrote that his mother got my card and told him to give me a call.

So my thought process goes to I must have fit his mom for shoes or talked to her about one of the training programs, and that's how she got my card.

I called him back. Left a message explaining that I was returning his call. Please call me back if he has any questions.

The whole thing was just kinda weird.

So I head back to Boss Lady's office and ask her about the pink slip.

She laughs before she says anything, and then she tells me when she was taking the message she asked what his call was regarding. She said he got really embarrassed when he had to explain.

He said his mother met me at the store one day. I gave her my card, which I don't remember doing yet it's something I would do. She, then, gave my card to her son and told him to "call" me. As in, not about shoes.

Who does that?

My friend Denise pointed out a major red flag.

His mother told him to call me....and then he actually did call me.

Seriously, I can't make this up. This is actually my real life.

Thankfully, he hasn't returned my call because I don't have any idea what I would say to him.

I mean he should have gently stalked me before calling. Like came up the store and made it seem like a chance meeting. That's what I would have done had my mom told me there was a hottie at some store she went to. (Does that make me a bad person?)