I pretend that I don’t.  I say things like, “Ugh!  I hate people!” or “Why are people so dumb?!” all the time.  It’s really just a front.  Because actually, I love people.  I was sitting on the steps of Wilson Library eating Pepper’s with a friend of mine a few days back.  (Are you jealous?  You should be.)  A gaggle of girls were walking across the quad, and my friend made a really judgmental remark about them.  Then he followed it with, “I don’t know why I said that, because if I met them, I bet I’d like them.  In fact, I usually dislike people, but then when I get to know them, I almost always like them.”

That’s how I am.  And while I think he said this quite eloquently, I mostly just quoted him so that I could point out that I ate Pepper’s pizza on the steps of Wilson Library a few days back.

So I really do like people.  It’s true.  And when I’m driving around time, I think about locations in terms of people.  That road goes by my friend’s house… That sort of thing.  Likewise with food.  I just finished lunch at Pulcinella’s, and I was practically assaulted by all the memories I have of that place.  I almost had a date there once, and my roommates and I had dinner there a couple of times, and once, my mom and sister and I ate there, and most importantly, I found out about the place because of an old boss who I dearly miss.

There are certain foods that I inevitably associate with people… whether it’s Mr. C’s curried eggs, Q’s chilaquiles soup, or my Vegetarian Coworker’s stuffed peppers.  A friend of mine once told me that she felt uncomfortable with the term BFF.  Incidentally, so do I, but for remarkably different reasons.  The basic tenet of her argument was that friends come into and leave your life, and best friends today don’t have to be friends forever.

People have entered and exited my life, some of whom I remember, some of whom I don’t.  I’ve been affected by them in big and small ways.   For better or for worse, all of my friends, past and present, are very much a part of who I am.  We cooked together, we snacked together, we shared meals, we drank coffee, we got yogurt pump.

I tend to think about food more than the average person, but I also don’t think I’m alone.  Food is very much a part of our relationships, and I think I prefer it that way.  I like being reminded of my friends every time I sit down for a meal, and I like that the experience is more than strictly sensory.  I’m probably being a little over-dramatic; I tend to do that.  Perhaps I’m particularly contemplative these days.  I don’t really know, and I certainly don’t care.

I don’t really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So goodnight, dear void.

(My amazing little sis gets a giant HEART for guessing my lame-o 90’s disney movie reference.  Anybody want to try their hand at the above quote?)