I am crazy indecisive.
Like, INSANE indecisive.
The word ‘indecisive’? It doesn’t even come close to how truly indecisive I really am.
I’ll stop saying ‘indecisive’ now.
I’m pretty sure the English language doesn’t allow saying ‘indecisive’ altogether within five sentences. Then again, the English language does allow words like ‘knife’ and ‘though’ so I’m pretty sure I can say whatever the hell I want.
(Oh, and you probably haven’t noticed [since I’m betting the majority of you are/were not English majors] but as an English major, people are always asking me random questions why certain words are the way they are. Um, I don’t freaking know? ‘Cause the Latin people said so? Sheesh, I’m not Google).
I’m not really sure where my indecisiveness stems from as my parents are both pretty level-headed people who generally know what they want most of the time.
I, however, seem to have a genetic mutation of the “know-what-I-want-gene” since I never, ever know what I want.
Take for instance my insane and laborious process of selecting clothes every night. I love planning my outfits because A) it takes me less time to do so in the morning (most of the time) and B) I like to look good, obviously.
However, such a process of selecting tops, bottoms, accessories and shoes doesn’t take a minute, nor five. It takes hours, often seeping into my dreams overnight, planning this-sweater with this-skirt or these-jeans with those-flats. Repeat that, plus throwing in random necklaces, baubles, and handbags of the day and you have a crazy-fashionista playing stylist in her sleep as well as annoying the living poop out of my family and boyfriend, who sadly are constantly subjected to this type of planning.
It’s to the point now that my mom will slam her bedroom door shut, locking me out whenever I ask her what I should wear tomorrow.
“I don’t care! It doesn’t matter!” she shouts.
I ask my sister, a budding fashionista, if she can help me.
“No! I don’t want to help you with your clothes. I don’t care!”
I ask my loving, sweet boyfriend for his opinion.
“It doesn’t matter what I say, anyway, because you won’t listen.”
And sadly, they’re all right. I mean, still–you can’t just help a girl out a little? My social standing and ego are on the line. If I left the house wearing New Balance sneakers with a dress and my hair in pigtails and carrying a Blues Clues lunch pail, I would be judged and publicly humiliated. My family would scoff and make faces. My mom would make that weird half-scrunchy face she makes when she particularly dislikes something. And I would be brutally persecuted in the fashion world for my severe, disgusting taste in fashion.
It’s a risk–like wearing flared jeans or hats–I’m just not willing to take.
And it isn’t just relevant to dresses or flats–it overlaps into my food life, personal life and everyday life, too.
I should have my mom (aka, Buddha) on speed-dial because I’m constantly calling her asking questions about “how should I tell so-and-so I am mad at them?” or “what do you think I should do about this situation?”
At dinner (especially at my all-time fave restaurant, a BBQ joint called Lucille’s here in town) I’m always in a battle of gumbo (there’s is seriously THE.BEST) or pulled pork (again, their BBQ is melt-in-your-mouth savory equivalent of chocolate-good). And I will have to basically poll the entire restaurant on what they think I should eat because I have no idea and obviously there will be an apocalyptic disaster if I order the “wrong thing.”
Or wear the “wrong thing.”
Or say the “wrong thing.”
I must always be perfect. The pressure is killing me!
Quick: what should I do?
Lots of pressure=Hayley going to her happy place. Pretty things like meadows full of Gerbera daisies and puppies; Alice-and-Wonderland-esque tea settings full of macarons and petit fours; and Samoas live there.
Yeah, Samoas. You know, the Girl Scout cookie of choice? Thin Mints are whack. It’s all about the toasted coconut, rich caramel, crunchy shortbread and drizzle of just-the-right-amount of chocolate on top. Tagalo–what? Samoas, baby.
Clearly I have been crazy-under pressure in the past when I made these and these and even these. The world is ENDING, people. The world will die tomorrow and all we’ll have to prove for it are some Samoa Blondie Truffles.
Wait. I’m okay with that.
Samoa Blondie Truffles *basic blondie recipe adapted from Shelly’s recipe
1 cup butter, softened
1 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup white sugar
2 tsp vanilla extract
2 & 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt + a pinch
About 3 & 1/2 cups shredded coconut, lightly toasted
1 pkg caramels, unwrapped
3 Tbsp milk
1 pkg chocolate almond bark
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Generously grease a mini-muffin tin with cooking spray; set aside.
2. In a large bowl, beat together the butter and both sugars until creamy, about a minute. Beat in eggs and vanilla. Beat in flour, the teaspoon of salt and the baking soda until combined and a soft dough is formed (You may want to beat in the flour in additions so it’s less messy).
3. Drop by rounded Tablespoonfuls into the greased cups and bake for about 10-12 minutes or until golden brown. Do not overbake. Allow to cool in tins for about 15 minutes. Once relatively cool to the touch, gently press your thumb into the center of each blondie cup creating a small dip or hole, careful not to pierce all the way through.
4. Meanwhile, in a microwaveable bowl, zap the unwrapped caramels (a whole bag is about 30-40), a pinch of salt and the milk for about 3-4 minutes, stirring every minute and a half to prevent scorching. Once completely melted, stir in three cups of the toasted coconut until blended.
5. Working quickly, drop a rounded teaspoonful of caramel filling into the center of each indented blondie cup, pressing down gently so filling will fill the hole. Careful, the caramel filling will be HOT (but if you let it cool down, it will start to harden quickly so it’s best handled when hot/warm). Repeat until all cups are filled. Pop in the freezer to harden filling for about 30 minutes.
6. Next, prepare your chocolate coating according to package directions. Dip the frozen, filled cups top-down into the chocolate coating, coating the entire top of the cup. Allow excess to drip, then place on a foil-lined baking sheet. Sprinkle tops with remaining toasted coconut and repeat until all cups are dipped and sprinkled. Place in freezer to harden shell, about 5-10 mins. Store these airtight for about 2 days.
**Note: PLEASE do not eat these straight out of the freezer or fridge. The caramel filling gets so hard that you’re probably guaranteed to break a tooth on it. Allow them to come completely to room temp before enjoying. (It’s hard, I know, but worth the wait and skip the pain).
By the looks of it, if I continue to self-medicate my indecisiveness with these truffles, I won’t need to worry about what to wear since I’ll be wheeled everywhere in a giant muumuu or tarp. Question: do they make sparkly pink tarps?
Have a great weekend!!