What's the object of your affection?

When I was young, the object of my affection was stickers. I was sticker mad. I had a sticker collection which mainly came from bookclub purchases my mother reluctantly paid for. What on earth do you want more for? You don't do anything with them. And I didn't either. I just used to stick them in my album and look at them. Arrange them in different configurations and sometimes, if they were lucky, give out the ones I didn't like to my brother and sister. The really crappy ones that said 'cool' in icicle-style font. I collected stamps and ink pads and embossing powder too.

But for all the stickers I had, all I ever wanted was those ones that the teachers gave out. Those wonderfully round stickers with praise like 'Good Work' and 'Tops!' written on them with some scholarly picture accompanying it like an apple or a smiling pencil man. Once, I opened up the back of my book and I saw the biggest, shiniest sticker I had ever seen. I'd written out all the lyrics to Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer when our teacher had simply asked us to write down our favourite christmas carol - a literal child.

Anyway, the point is when I was about eleven I had a friend whose mum knew the librarian and had access to the teacher's stationary order forms. Low and behold - sticker access. Actual real, genuine teacher stickers - and I could order as many as I want. And I did. The funny thing is though, when I got them and had them all there on a sheet, all for my very self, something changed. They lost all their specialness and it was like I had to grow up on the spot, in that moment.

I don't know about you, but I think life would be a lot easier if teacher stickers were still the object of my affection.

love,
cactus
xx

Living on the wild, more refined side

The first time I tried kiwi fruit I was eight. I was at my next-door neighbour's house and her mum cut it up for me on a plate and gave us a corn cod holder to eat it with. I gobbled down my entire plate, cursing my own mother for not introducing me to this exotic fruit earlier. When my friend left the room, I ate all of her kiwi fruit as well. This didn't bode well. She didn't speak to me for a week and I went home with a tummy ache and the next day awoke with the desire to never touch another kiwi fruit for as long as I lived.

I still don't eat it.

I can't say I had a similar experience with sparkling water, but I've never liked the stuff ... until now. I don't know what's going on, or how I acquired a taste for it, but lately, I can't get enough of pellegrino. It may not sound like much to you, but it signifies a step into adulthood for me. I can't tell you how many lunch meetings I've attended where all the ladies opt for the fancy green glass bottle while I sit there with my still, usually warm tap water. I always felt so uneducated, so mainstream, so not bubbly.

But something's changed. I'm suddenly craving carbonated water and I can't really pinpoint the moment when it all started. Maybe it was when I said to a friend at a christmas party 'this stuff's okay' and he replied 'okay? It's great, it's water, but fizzy. What's not to like?'

Hmm seeing my thoughts onscreen just makes this whole new discovery sound trivial. But really, I don't recall the last time my taste buds changed. So it's nice to know I'm alive and maturing, even if it is in the most menial way of discovering I am.

Here's to trying new things!

cactus
x