139.

i've been a poor correspondent.

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i had to make a couple of big decisions this week - some horrible, some less so - which basically crippled me from paying attention to poor old loveandcyanide here. it's weird though how quickly everything changes once you make up your mind...even if you're not making your preferred choice, you just feel 1000% times better once you pick something and stick with it. as an indecisive pisces, this is an incredible phenomenon to me, and i imagine life would be at least 30% simpler if i could just make up my mind a teensy bit faster.

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i'm sure i've mentioned it in the past here, but i hate yogurt. abhor the stuff. even frozen, masquerading as ice cream, i can't stand it. i'm sure it's psychosomatic, but i'm convinced i can actually feel the live cultures in my mouth whenever i try it, and really, who wants to feel themselves ingesting bacteria? blech.

but despite the hatred, every year or so i find myself in the dairy aisle telling myself to give yogurt another shot (this was not one of last week's "big decisions", although for consistency-sake, we'll pretend it was). seriously - i don't know what it is that makes it the one food i shun that i consistently try to make myself like. i would never do that with stinky cheeses. maybe the shape of the container? the portability factor? the brightly colored fruits emblazoned on the packaging? that i'm trying to acknowledge the fact that i am a woman and it's supposed to be beneficial to my health? i don't know. so during my weekly supermarket excursion last week i found myself in my "oh chrissy, go try yogurt" phase and after much deliberation settled on a peach variety and a mixed berry one.

and lo and behold, for the first time ever, i was actually able to finish the little container. it probably helped that every time i put the spoon up to my mouth i told myself "this is delicious!!" (i figured if that method can get babies to eat strained peas, it might work on me), but i'd like to believe that maybe my taste buds are maturing.

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a scary-but-true yogurt story (and now that it popped into mind, perhaps a contributor to my (possibly former) hatred of the stuff): when missy and i first relocated to staten island we often played with the other children living on our street. directly across from our house lived a family with four boys, two of whom were around my age, and so they were regulars in our games of tag and board-game sessions and, dare i say it, they taught me how to play dungeons & dragons. (before you fall out of your chairs, i'm no dungeon master. to be quite honest, i was 10 and had no clue about the intense culture of the game and really just liked the pretty various-colored and multi-faceted dice. there was a deep teal one i was particularly fond of.)

but i digress. so our little crew of neighborhood kids made the rounds from one house to the next during our summer days of play. as one might expect, our parents' provided the group with snacks depending on which house we were at. as one might not expect, when we were at the boys' house, we weren't given cups to drink our hawaiian punch/juicy juice/kool-aid out of; instead our "cups" were empty yogurt containers. no joke. considering my 10-year-old self was pretty similar to my current self, you can imagine how horrified i was by having to drink out of a vessel that had once held such a filthy product, and in general just aghast at such a lack of proper hostessing skills.

i was never thirsty when we hung out at that house.