A Study in Contradictions

When I was four, I swallowed an entire bottle of aspirin. It was the orange-flavored baby aspirin that you can probably find in the house of any family with young children. I guess it was in the days before they really childproofed the hell out of all medications, or else I was particularly clever and dexterous for my age. The drama queen in me likes to say it was my first (and last) suicide attempt. In reality, it was more my attempt to be a drama queen: I was reenacting an aspirin commercial I saw, and I was putting myself through many "takes" until I got it right.

When I was uncharacteristically quiet for more than an hour, my parents knew something was wrong and came to investigate. They found me peacefully sleeping it off in grandma's bedroom. There was no lasting damage (though that early dexterity seems to have faded alarmingly — I drop just about everything I hold for more than a minute), but to this day, I can't stomach artificial orange flavoring. I love oranges, and orange juice, but the taste of orange candy or Tang still makes me shudder.

But that's the way it is with me. There has never been much consistency in my tastes. I love tomatoes and tomato sauce, but loathe tomato juice. I love most forms of music and am a big film buff, but I hate movie musicals. I love to argue with people, but I hate being around, or involved in, real fights. As a kid I ate nothing but baloney sandwiches and fast-food hamburgers (and aspirin, I suppose) and now I'm a vegetarian who wouldn't set foot in a McDonalds for coffee, let alone a meal.

When I moved to Cali, I was excited that my first job was going to be in Long Beach, because I love the ocean and have never lived more than 1/2 hour from the beach. And yet, I'm not really fond of sand, and sitting in the sun bores me, so I actually haven't set foot on a beach or in the ocean since I've gotten here.

There's a theory that the things we don't like about other people are the qualities of ourselves that we see in them (and don't always recogniaze in ourselves). So what does it say about me that I find something to dislike in everything I love? That I'm ultracritical? Probably, but I like that about me ;)

Maybe it's time to spend less time focusing on the things I hate and more time discovering what I like about new things. Maybe the glass isn't half empty or half full as much as it's still got a bit of tasty beverage left inside and I should start slugging it down. And maybe tomorrow I'll head to McDonalds, grab an orangina, and lay on the sand and see what happens.

Or I could just lay on my couch, drink a Pepsi and curse at the idiots on reality TV. That sounds like more fun.