Ice Cream Challenge

A daily post prompt: A local ice cream parlor invites you to create a new wacky flavor. It needs to channel the very essence of your personality. What’s in it?

My goal is tasteful unremarkableness these days. That’s the ideal. It’s a strategy rather than the essence of my personality, I reckon. There’s an urge in me to defy. I tried to make fashion statements at university. Not a feather boa exactly, but things like oddly patterned cardigans and black boots instead of trainers. It was a strenuous, joyless effort to look cool in an alternative kind of way. But there was no ease, so no cool. I should have and still should take Henry Rollins’ example and just own being awkward, gauche, a bit of a clenched psycho. Doing that would be a major lifestyle choice though, it looks like. I think I’ll just continue to lack integrity but at least know my place while I’m at it. So anyway I was a lonely reject for a lot of university and deservedly so. Now I avoid like the plague being arch in any way, which is good. I feel like I was doing the wrong thing then and now I’m doing the right thing, despite the bad rap ‘conformity’ gets.

I do like some element of fun, once I’m sure I’m doing things as they should be done on the whole. In my flat that would be my beloved boldly coloured bedsheets- purple with black pillows and black with green pillows. Then on my person it’s my purple t-shirt which I wear going out sometimes with my inoffensive grey hoodie and jeans.

So in terms of the ice-cream flavour, there’d have to be vanilla. Then a scoop of garlic seems right, looking at a list of ice-cream flavours on wikipedia. And raspberry ripple. I’m happy enough with that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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2 thoughts on “Ice Cream Challenge

  1. I recently tried fois gras ice cream (served with crisp, hot slices of mid-rare flank steak) for the first time. It’s one of the best things to ever happen to me. Also, there’s something to be said for self-expression through bedding. I tend to be a jeans and t-shirts kind of girl (unless it’s a special occasion, when I pull out my trusty Doc Martens and leopard tights, etc.), but my real personality comes out in my crazy bedding and a rotating selection of garish shower curtains. Part of saying “fuck you” to conformity is realizing that it’s conforming to believe we can only express ourselves usefully through our daily clothing choices. Oh, and there’s nothing wrong with a good purple shirt.

    • Ice cream and steak sounds perfectly matched to me somehow, and i’ve never heard of it before. Not sold on fois gras though. Well, thinking about it, the purple t-shirt wasn’t intended as a statement. I just liked it. I can see how clothes as your act of nonconformity could be missing the point. They should never be the starting point as I see it. Lots of fashionista women bloggers and stuff who seem to take genuine pleasure in it all would disagree. I secretly think they’re sick in the head and a bit unhappy really though,

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