To make myself feel better, I made a list of tragic realizations I have had in the last 15 years! Some more recent than I'd like to admit.
The list didn't actually make me feel all that better, though. I kept remembering other things that broke my heart-- Ernest Hemingway was actually a chauvenist jerk, I will never sing like Aretha Franklin, my cat doesn't understand Human and won't defend me against a robber (we're close, so I sorta figured), the magnolia tree in my backyard isn't a banana tree like dad told me when I was six-- I can list painful epiphanies all day, and it doesn't make me any closer to that Baja Blast Mountain Dew.
Baja Blast Haiku
Taco Bell's Baja Blast
Like tasting rain swollen sky
Or God on my tongue.
Seriously that's how it feels. It kept vigil next to my worn, broken body every night after waitressing. I'd crawl whimpering to my car and slump in the seat all the way to Taco Bell, where it's taste-- liquid joy-- would revitalize me and transform me back into a human.
I guess a part of growing up is losing these things. I imagine this is probably what my parents feel as their youngest leaves for college (at least they get to visit), or when you move from a loved home. You're moving on, but you are growing as well. Perhaps I will be a better person for overcoming this, albeit sleepier.
A montage to Baja Blast. So I can say goodbye.
