Now for the list of things I used to like, but detest now. As we grow older, our tastes change. Sometimes we like things we didn’t like before. Sometimes we make a face and think, I used to enjoy that? What happened to me?
Presenting my list of things I no longer like.
Ringalos. I think eating these for lunch when I was in junior high made me sick of them and their ilk. Same goes for other chips (with the exception of Doritos and salt and malt vinegar kettle chips.) Schools have banned junk food from our schools, but I found eating scads of chips made them less appealing. I prefer real food now.
Pop. (I get the feeling there’s going to be a lot of “food” in my list.) When irritable bowel syndrome reared its ugly head, I discovered pop was the enemy. Anything with bubbles, actually. To this day, I enjoy some root beer at A & W, but that’s about it. There’s something disturbing about being able to burp through your nose. This never happens with milk.
Danielle Steel. Around Grade 6, I read No Greater Love because it was set on the Titanic. I began reading a spate of Steel novels, probably because I was going through puberty and found some pleasure in the soap operas of the rich. Once I discovered most of the plots were the same, which wore thin after awhile, I moved on to other writers. Furthermore, I couldn’t afford to keep buying the 5+ books she seemed to publish a year. I’ve moved on. Sorry, Danielle. It’s not you; it’s me. But we can still be friends.
Perfume. When I was in high school, I used to get a rash of headaches (as opposed to a spate.) It never occurred to me that it might be because of the toxic cloud of perfume that hovered over the school. (In fact, there was a time when teachers used to smoke in the staff smoking room!) Most teenagers (with the exception of a few holdouts) are obsessed with perfume. I used to wear it. It wasn’t until I was into a world where scents were discouraged that I realized I had far fewer headaches. Now when I’m enveloped by perfume, e.g. walking through Sears’ beauty counters, my head pulsates in warning. I’m just thankful I can still wear shampoo and deodorant that smell nice. But break out something with vanilla in it and I’m a goner. Unless it’s real vanilla (and P.S. it really isn’t: it’s just a noxious blend of chemicals. Smell ya later!)
Stamp collecting. A bit embarrassed about this one. Not sure how it started. There was a mail order company that sent me stamps every so often. I picked out the ones I wanted to keep, then sent the others back, paying only for the ones I kept. I still have quite a few, buried somewhere in a stack of dust. I’m not sure what began this obsession other than rampant consumerism and the delight of having things shipped to my house. I also like history, so maybe that had something to do with it. I haven’t collected a stamp since I was 14. I swear.
Biking. As a child, I biked. Endlessly. I went for a ride every day, glad to get out and get some exercise. This was all mostly before I got my license. Then something changed. I realized driving was complex and many drivers didn’t understand this. These days, you couldn’t pay me enough to bike on the highway. I mean, bike with my back to the drivers? I’ll take my car and seat belts and airbags, thank you. Or I’ll walk. At least I can see them coming at me and dive out of the way.
Carnival rides. I used to LOVE going to Exhibition. I went on the Ferris Wheel, the Scrambler, the Super Slide. Everything except the most violent rides. However, when I was in Grade 5, I went on too many. And got sick. Since then, I’ve discovered I can’t handle the motion of the back seat of a car, let alone the Scrambler. Keep me away from the midway and the puke. I’ll stay in the chicken and bunny barns, where it smells nice.
A bunch of crushes. You know what I’m talking about. When you’re a girl, you become obsessed with anyone, then one day, the obsession is gone and you’re left with a what-was-I-thinking? feeling each time you watch your crush do something stupid. There was a time those things were attractive. Now you see them for what they were. Stupid. Just like the idea of marrying so-and-so. I will never admit to some of these crushes, ever. Ask me and I’ll deny, deny, deny. Thank God there was no Facebook when I was a teenager.