Published in the Ferndale Record, June 24, 2015
Once I wrote a column about how people encourage others to be outraged concerning causes they feel are important. I understand this mentality, the wanting to share, the “You’ve got to FEEL what I’m feeling!” sentiment. I have pet subjects, too.
But here’s what’s happening: I’m mellower and not as easily whipped into a frenzy as I used to be. Maybe it’s simply energy related and choosing carefully where my focus ends up, rather than being led all over the map – passionate about everything and effective in nothing.
Although weightier issues squeeze into my consciousness, there are some tiny preferences upon which my mind is set, and surprisingly, these less than urgent decisions make life a bit easier.
I hate shopping for clothes. So, when I do, an item has to shout to get my attention. I rarely start by looking at sizes. If the color catches my eye, I go there first. If I love it, but the fit or style isn’t right, I move on. I won’t buy it because I might like it better at home.
That’s how I shop for clothes. Totally based on love. I have functional clothing, but if I don’t adore it, won’t wear it, if it doesn’t fit right, or if that shade of red doesn’t blow me away, it goes back. The end.
Here’s another example. I decided years ago that frosting is my favorite part of the cake. Someone offers you cake, you say yes, and the frosting to cake ratio makes no sense. It’s all cake with just a sliver of frosting. You know what I mean. This doesn’t work for me, and if I’m being honest, it never has.
I boldly decided that if I’m going to eat those kinds of calories, they’d better be worth it. So, when I buy or create baked goods with frosting, I get as much bang for my sugary, decadent caloric buck as possible.
The bakery at our local Haggen makes a fantastic single-layer German chocolate cake. If I’m buying one, I check carefully to make sure the chocolate and coconut frosting layers are thick enough for my liking. I’ve been known to pick out a cake, take it to the counter and ask for more frosting, and they kindly oblige.
Additionally, when I get the cake home (and since no one else likes it), rather than slice it in traditional wedges, I just carve off the edges to my preference, producing a perfect amount of frosting on the slice, without an overabundance of the delicious, moist, yet secondarily preferred cake.
If it sounds like I’ve thought all of this out meticulously, I have. Also, I feel no shame, just freedom from the shackles of ‘polite society.’ I also recognize these are options largely confined to a first-world inhabitant. For this, I’m grateful.
So, if the color or fit doesn’t make me a little giggly, I won’t buy it or keep it. And if there’s too much cake and not enough goodness on top, I sweetly decline. But if I know you well enough I might say, “More frosting, please.”