Saturday, May 07, 2005

The Maturing Process

I've always anticipated that as I grow older there would be things in my life that would change. I knew that Barbie would not always entertain me, and I somewhat suspected that the Little People would become too small for my growing hands. I knew I would have to trade in summer jobs for "real work", leaving the flashy world of, "Would you like fries with that?" for the more sophisticated world of, "Would you like wine with that?" However, there have been some changes that I could never be fully prepared to embrace.

As I age my desires and tastes have changed. I no longer want to have mile high bangs with hot pink plastic bracelets and jelly sandals. Earning that PhD has much less appeal. Coco Puffs are no longer my favorite cereal. I feel like an "adult" when I have my Kashi and plain non-fat yogurt for breakfast, while putting on my navy suit and heels. I've come to expect that my attitudes and tastes would mature as I do. But I was never expecting regression...

I have had to face a horrible, terrifying fact that not only makes me cringe, but causes me to question why such a sudden change NOW. I'm okay with the gray hair starting to appear, I can handle a wrinkle here and there, but I am disgusted, appalled even, at the most recent change of events. I like hot dogs.

This may sound quite melodramatic. Perhaps it is even ridiculous, but the fact remains that as I have grown into adulthood my tastebuds have spun a quick 180 and are heading back to 1983. I have NEVER enjoyed hot dogs - the mere thought still causes me to gag - yet I find myself craving the nasty, unidentifiable meat in thin, clear plastic casings. It's not that I enjoy the thought, for I most definately detest the dietary implications, yet I find myself waiting, and wanting for one more bite. All common sense has elluded me. Every nutritional fact is irrelevant. I long for another red hot...I dream about the next time they will be served in the Finer Diner that is our employee lunch room.

This is a lot for me to digest today (no pun intended). My world has been knocked off of its axis, spinning out of control into a direction I could have never fathomed it would take. I now find myself in need of a new map...and so I am off to my neighbor's, and their four children, to see if they can shed light onto this strange, new trail.

1 comment:

Valerie said...

"The Maturing Process," as you call it, is really nothing more than something our parents made up to keep us in line as children.

They wanted us to do something and so explained that it was good for us because it was part of "the maturing process."

I have started to use this theory on Matthew, poor kid, in the efforts of potty training. Granted, he is two, so I haven't called it maturing, but becoming a "big boy now, just like..." (you can stick in the name of any friend he has whom is older and no longer wearing diapers.)

So, my dear friend, do not fret... it is not a regression that you are going through. It is a freedom your tastebuds are just starting to test, seeing how close to the edge of sanity they can take you, without getting thrown over the ledge.

Just watch out for the combination of hot dogs with Macaroni and Cheese, which those four neighbor children may try to inflict on you. If that happens, you may be lost forever!! I hope you find the map that leads you back to satisfaction.