Confessions of A Naughty Girl

I'm Out of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Everyone has one of those foods you just can't live without. The food that, at your local grocery, never eludes you. The food that sustains you. That brings you joy. That makes you go home, kick off your shoes, and dig into those morsels of gluttonous happiness, whatever they may be.

One day, a few months ago, I was perusing the aisles of my local Publix (Kroger = disastrous produce section and awful customer service), when I spotted my own personal Holy Grail of cereals: Cinnamon Toast Crunch. The cereal that my Mom would never let me eat, due to its ludicrous sugar content. Growing up, my mom made me eat cereal for breakfast every morning before school, and it was always something gross, like Corn Flakes or Raisin Bran. And while I understand her motherly responsibility to keep me regular, I always felt like I was being cheated somehow. And no amount of packets of Equal dumped into the bowl while she wasn't looking could possibly compare.

So you can imagine my excitement to rediscover CTC, and the realization that at 25 years old, I can buy and eat my own f*cking preferred brand of cereal, cavities be damned.

It's now a staple food in my cabinet. And yes - there are plenty of times where I ain't got no milk, I ain't got no bread, but I sure as hell always have some CTC on hand to help me get through the day.

Now I find that there's nothing quite like the panic of being down to my last half-box of CTC. Once that reality kicks in, I will do whatever it takes to make sure I have enough Toasty goodness in stock, for whenever the situation arises.

Do you know where I'm going with this? Neither do I.

Okay, no, wait. I remember now.

You see, Cinnamon Toast Crunch is a euphemism. For men. Much like Mikey needs Life cereal, much like Kate Moss needs 10 lines of blow in a recording studio, and much like the white-collared businessman needs a five dollar blow job from a cheap hooker named Tootsie to feel powerful, I need some more men in my cereal cabinet. Seriously.

I've had a few dates in the past couple of months. I never blog about them because frankly, they're so boring that just a few weeks ago, I found myself counting Equal packets at the table at the Cheesecake Factory, waxing nostalgic about my forced childhood ingestion of Raisin Bran. It was the only thing that kept me from dying of boredom. After a half an hour discussion about whether or not we liked what we did for a living (I do, he doesn't), and whether or not we cared about being cool in high school (he cared, and probably was somewhat cool, I didn't care, and definitely wasn't), I looked for a modicum of desire within to suck face with this guy just to get him to shut up and couldn't even muster any fake desire. Ouch.

The whole date was Raisin Bran. But not even - there weren't even those little wrinkly bits of raisin surprise scattered throughout. The date was f*cking Corn Flakes. Seriously.

I wouldn't consider myself to be a desperate person, nor one who feels the incessant needling within to be in relationships with people as a measure of self-worth. I am quite fine being single, but it does get kind of lonely. It'd be nice to have someone, outside of friends, to hang out with and make out with and bring to the endless weddings (particularly since two more of my friends have gotten engaged in the last month). I'd like for someone to drag me to action movies, instead of shit like "Memoirs of a Geisha". I'd like a box of chocolates on Valentine's Day - the fancy kind where every truffle is infused with something weird like wasabi or chili peppers and there's a guide to what's what on the inside cover of the chocolate box. I don't think there's anything wrong with that.

My problem, I have come to believe, is in selection. I just don't meet a lot of quality people, and anytime I do meet people, they usually tend to be non-quality and I choose to go out with them anyway. And yet, no matter how hard I try to convince myself that maybe this date will be interesting, that maybe he's not as obnoxious as he came off to be when we were talking, I find myself eating Wheat Chex and craving Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

So where the hell do I go to meet some normal people? I'm on my last box of cereal, and I still have to eat breakfast for the rest of the week.

posted by KA @ 8:59 PM