And this is how the cookies get burned

My friend Maria and I were making cookies this evening, which is okay, because we sweated in the sponge of humidity through park walks, in which we made up broke college student versions to "Call me Maybe." As we were baking the cookies, the three million screens, text messages and tweets that this generation juggles (oh the struggles!), sent us into a twister of distraction, and soon we found our hard work to taste like hot lava rocks. Obviously, famous youtuber Alex Day's ponderings about if he had Chlamydia or not took precedence at the time, but having molten chocolate chips took us on a downward spiral for the rest of the night. There is nothing worse than molten chocolate chips, especially when they are surrounded by cardboard tasting dough.
There is, however, nothing better than having a friend to distract you enough to forget about the cookies. We may have been forgetful about baking times, but we were also able to forget worries about finding our classes, acing our classes, finding frat parties, and finding out what a frat party really entails. Our journeys onto farmville are perhaps juvenile, and about as meaningful as second grade homework, but everybody needs that escape of being random, being unproductive, and just plain...silly. There's always tomorrow to make cookies.
I love all my close friends, but after baking, ranting, and internet-voyaging with Maria, I often feel like I've spent the day with a sister. She's seen my horribly awkward middle school days in which every item of clothing I owned had to have numerous hot pink sparkles and cheetah print on it. She's witnessed the lunch periods where I thought it would be super cool and drastic to call our "frenemy" a bitch (the horrors!). And she's stuck with me the whole way through. As we're still friends now, she must be either crazy or have the tolerance of Mother Theresa. Or Mother Theresa was crazy. But I digress. I've known Maria since 6th grade, and like any friendship where glasses, braces, and totally new bodies are involved, we've had our struggles, but now we can go to each other's houses, get into two hour long discussions about writing, and still consider the other person cool. It's a good system. Our tangents may result in burnt cookies, and a severe dent in the chocolate chip bag, but our friendship can never be burned to a crisp.

As a side note, the cookies turned out pretty decently in the end, and no baking material were harmed in the making of this blog.

Namaste.