Vienna Mocha Chunk

My husband and I went to Friendly’s last night for our quarterly sundae fix. I could not believe my eyes when I scanned the list of flavors and did not see my favorite flavor, Vienna Mocha Chunk, on the menu. I asked the waitress and she confirmed that they no longer offer this flavor. HOW COULD THIS BE?! Now, I’m not really an ice-cream person. I don’t have it at home and I don’t eat it regularly. But I loved and looked forward to my occasional Friendly’s Vienna Mocha Chunk sundae, with almonds, hot fudge, and whipped cream. It was something I could always depend on. It never disappointed. It was something I truly enjoyed through and through. And it’s gone from my life, probably forever! Is nothing sacred??? I feel as if I’ve lost an old friend, and this will require a period of mourning…

The Day My Brother Shot An Injured Duck

I grew up in Upstate New York. Lakes, forests, wild animals… the whole nine yards. We had a tiny little gross home, but it was on a lake, surrounded by a ton of undeveloped land. We didn’t have much as far as material possessions go, but I wasn’t aware of that at the time. We loved it there. We spent almost all of our spare time outside, weather permitting. For the most part we had to entertain ourselves, and we were happy to do so. We were all that we had (Cheesy, I know, but I’m leaving it!) My two older brothers used to dress in camo with their friends and go on adventures in the wilderness. I always wanted to go with them, but they would rarely let me tag along. They were about 7 years older than me, so I was a total nuisance to them. But once in a while they would give in and take me through the woods on one of the various trails near our home. And they never went into the wood without at least one weapon, because you never knew what you would encounter out there. I remember one day in particular when they decided to take me on a familiar trail that circled the lake. A couple miles in we came across a little duck scurrying along the trail. It didn’t fly away and it seemed distressed. After inspecting the bird for a few minutes my eldest brother knelt down in front of me, looked me in the eyes and said “It’s injured. It can’t fly. It will be eaten by another animal. The best thing to do is to put it out of it’s misery.” Before I could protest he shot and killed the small bird with his BB gun. I was so upset. I could have taken the little duck home! I could have nursed it back to health! I was always caring for injured animals. I’d brought home mice, turtles, birds, salamanders, cats, snakes, frogs… etc. I captured and cared for any living creature that appeared to be sick or sad. I’d spend a few days pampering the animals in a homemade habitat specific to each creature’s needs, and then I’d let them go. What did HE know about injured ducks anyway?! I remember thinking at the time that I KNEW I could have saved that duck. And if it never flew again I could have just kept it as a pet. But that’s not realistic is it? It was a wild animal, probably with diseases and parasites, and I would not have been able to keep it in my bedroom for the rest of it’s life. What a disgusting mess that would have been! But it’s funny, to this day, 23ish years later, I still feel like I could have saved that bird. It’s not realistic or rational, but thinking about it brings up those childlike feelings of “what if??”. That childhood hurt never goes away. But I know my brother was trying to teach me a lesson. I know what he wanted me to gain from that experience. And even though I sobbed and screamed and my other older brother yelled at him for killing the bird, my eldest brother never apologized for what he did that day. Was it the right thing to do? Definitely not. He was a kid himself and he should not have been going around killing animals with his BB gun. But to his credit, every time I need to make a difficult decision that requires me to think objectively, I always think of the day my brother shot an adorable little injured duck.

Is This Creepy?

This is my first official post. I’m not going to go into detail about why I’m joining the WordPress world, or what my intentions are, or what I want my theme(s) to be. Mainly because I don’t know. But also because I don’t think it really matters. I’ll write whether anyone reads or not, because this is more fun than writing in my adult diary. And the very small chance that a stranger may stumble upon this by accident adds a touch of fear to the process of documenting my thoughts and experiences. But I have to admit, this whole thing does make me feel a little weird. I keep thinking of the main character from Mr. Robot. Is writing down your thoughts to yourself creepy? I know it’s public, but aren’t I essentially talking to myself? It’s totally weird, amirite?

Anyway. What I really want to write about is MY BIRTHDAY! I’m turning 29 on Wednesday. TWENTY-NINE. I know it’s stupid and cliche to get depressed about birthdays, especially since I’m still young and all that crap. But I’m normally a semi-depressed, contemplative, and existential person. So, birthdays are naturally becoming more of a problem as time goes on. I just always thought at some point during my twenties I would have an epiphany. Like I would wake up one day and think “Wow, I’m an adult! I’m mature! I want to have babies! I care about investing! I want to cook healthy meals all of the time! I want to exercise regularly! I don’t need to sweat the small stuff! I SEE the BIG picture!!” That hasn’t happened. Will it ever happen? Or will I always just feel like a big ass child? Does the fact that I think my dogs are cuter than most babies make me a terrible person? Am I supposed to force it? Is everyone just faking it? Should I take a cooking class instead of watching RHONYC on Tuesday nights? Should I subscribe to The Economist instead of Elle Decor? Should I be buying stocks instead of Hanson tickets?? Probably…probably. But not yet. Let’s see how year 29 goes before I make any life altering decisions… like buying a fitbit or some shit.