Body changes, Pt. 1

Note: Since this is a notice of changes over long periods of time, Parts 2 and 3 will probably come out when I am 40 and 60 respectably.

I've been noticing things. I don't really want to talk to long and why I don't want to be sitting at this computer for more than a few minuets should be obvious soon. I know little things that we once liked and did changes places with things we loath and ignore all the time. For as long as I can remember I've liked chocolate, in any form. This is very normal. However, I've had friends tell me that they very clearly remember me not like Hershey's. I do not remember this at all. I would almost buy it too because it sounds like some sort of anti-corporation thing kick that I was on that I've been known to do. I don't believe it because chocolate is chocolate is chocolate is chocolate is good.

I've been noticing things that I've haven't liked before that I currently like. I always remember as a little kid instantly hating all vegetable like things for almost the soul fact that they are vegetables. Eventually learned to enjoy(or at least tolerate) things like carrots, broccoli, asparagus, and corn. I still don't like Brussels sprouts and my mom tends to buy these 'steam in the microwave' corn carrots broccoli packs that are disturbing how disgusting they are, they are the only events in recent memory of someone telling me to eat my veggies and me flat out saying "No". All those are rather understandable for a small child to not like, however, I also remember not liking olives, mushrooms and onions. I remember looking back to the small child I once was and thinking "Was I fucking retarded? That shits delicious." Pizzas are much better now. Still not crazy about peppers.

Tonight, I had homemade fried chicken, nothing new, but this was made with Sriracha, better known as Red Rooster hot sauce that hails from Vietnam. Now, there wasn't enough of this stuff to provide much more of a small kick under the skin. But, I'm testing how the chicken tastes and notice the bottle of sriracha on the counter. I pour a dab just as a taste test. Taste good. Bigger dab, still taste good. One fried chicken thigh later, I felt like I got kicked in the mouth. But in a good loving way, just like my ex used to do. I never use to like hot sauce before, but now I do. Growing up is weird.

Fun fact, that was about four hours ago, and as of right now, my innards are doing this dance that feels like what I would imagine a person to react to someone being locked in a 6'by6' room for four hours having the ceiling and walls slowly leek lava. FUN.