This may not come as a surprise to you, but it appears to be some kind of amazement to me: I somehow find blog-worthy insights on the most mundane of things that involves food, just like picking over which Cheetos to buy, and finishing down a totally-not-carb-free ice cream.
Earlier today, after attending a church service and eating a couple of steamed dumplings with my older cousin, I wandered alone in the mall for a few minutes. Let me emphasize on the “few minutes” – an average lengthy song still wouldn’t have finished when I decided to queue in line in the ice cream store.
I was a bit hesitant on ordering a bit large cup for I have never really finished eating something that much by myself – I always had somebody to share it with. The taste isn’t an issue, the thickness has never bothered me at all (I am no ice cream connoisseur), it’s just that I don’t like it once it has melted and I have always been a slow eater. It’s either I buy a really small serving or have a big one for sharing, and having been in a relationship for five years makes the latter the obvious choice then.
With only one lady in line on the counter before me, and having no boyfriend for over a year, I face a bit of impasse: Should I go for the small unsatisfying cup or face the responsibility of finishing the big one alone? Well, I chose to face my dilemma with the help of Oreo, Chips Ahoy and a few added brownie chunks.
Halfway through the third (or fourth?) song, have I noticed that it’s starting to truly melt which would be by then unappetizing to me. And yet, as I dug in for a perceptible bit of Oreo (yes, just the Oreo not the pool of milk that surrounds it), I helped myself to a spoonful of the now melted ice cream. Guess what? I didn’t feel like I have to spit it out, or force myself to chug it down – I didn’t necessarily like it, but it was bearable enough to keep me going. I would have taken a photo as a proof, but I was more engrossed in the epiphany that occurred to me: Times have changed, transforming things along with its passing, myself included. I am no longer the girl who needs someone to finish down a big cup of sugary treat; I have become the lady who conquers roller coasters without having the need to bite her significant other’s back to keep the fear down at bay. No, I have become the warrior that slays down fire-breathing dragons with lightsabers, without a knight’s helping hand.
Or maybe, just maybe, this is just the sugar rush talking.