Not Your Grandma's Prize-Winning Recipe

Wash your hands of it all,
Get the dirt out from under your nails,
(you don’t want it getting in your ingredients)
In a bowl, start with three heaping cups of cute outfits,
Add in a dozen early mornings, perfecting your hair and makeup.
(It’s okay if it’s still a little lumpy.)
A pinch of wit and confidence, to taste.
Stir, let simmer.
Now add a few longing gazes,
A single wink (no more no less).
In a separate bowl,
Add your thought-up conversational topics,
Use a sieve, only the finest and best quality
Opinions should filter through.
Pour in two tablespoons of worry,
A few gossipy conversations with your girl-friends.
Then, take all of your angst,
The things you'll never say, anyhow.
Bottle them up. (Get the cork in as tight as it goes.)
Crack open your heart (wrap it hard on the side of the bowl,
It’ll break if you keep at it, trust me),
Toss the shell. Mix.
Add the contents of your heart to the contents of your looks,
Incorporate well; knead.
Let sit to rise for a few hours,
While you go to his football game,
Or watch a movie he mentioned he loved.
Garnish with a pinch of luck,
And bake at 350°F
Or until golden brown.