It was kind of like how Romeo had that dream that the events on the night of the party would ultimately lead to his death, except that it was the opposite.
I mean, it was pretty much amazing, and Cheryl and I are pretty much best friends forever now, even if she doesn't know that.
And even though I didn't think I'd probably learn all that much--I mean, I already know how to bake--I learned a whole lot about butter and eggs and temperature and lumps and beating and other things that would probably bore most people, but that I was super excited to learn.
And Cheryl, my new best friend forever. . .well, she's kind of a badass. And so is her husband Griff.
Seriously, though, I just sat there starstruck. I was so nervous at first and so intimidated by her awesomeness that I found myself sitting there at the table like I did when I went to foot-washing Baptist school--straight up, hands closed as if I was about to pray.
Pray for more of this chocolate cake, perhaps.
Or pray that Cheryl, who recently got herself a cookbook deal (a cookbook I can't wait to buy!), will let me be one of her recipe testers. Pick me, Cheryl! Pick me!
And now I need to go ellipt, because I ate four desserts for dinner.
*Even though I had taken my camera with me, I didn't take any pictures because I didn't want to be "that girl" with the big obnoxious camera.
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