Wilson Plans to Enjoy Her Binges

Rachel Wilson, Editor-in-Chief

A common theory on eating habits suggests that the reason a person, henceforth known as Dave, eats an entire bowl of ice cream not because he is hungry. Because who eats ice cream when he’s hungry? He eats ice cream because it’s delicious–or in Dave’s case, he has just finished a large meal, is looking to polish off a fancy dessert, and finds fulfillment in a bowl of Italian gelato.

However, Marge’s regrets of eating an entire pint of Ben & Jerry’s double chocolate while watching a romantic comedy movie marathon starting with Love Actually and hitting every other branch on the way down might stem from an unconscious quest for comfort.

But in essence, the two situations are the exact same. Each individual is searching to repeat the euphoric experience of the first spoonful.

Enter the first type of opportunity of the hour: the unreachable one. Neither Dave nor Marge actually ever get what they are looking for in their ice cream, but they keep trying to create a moment of perfection instead of enjoying the new ones they could be experiencing.

By dwelling on the untouchable, the two (perhaps unwittingly) aren’t getting the fullest possible enjoyment out of their snack.

Summer makes me realize how much I love ice cream. I’d like to take a minute to personally thank the ancient civilizations who took the time to develop this wonderful treat, but especially the waffle cone. Invented in the early twentieth century, and my favorite method of consuming ice cream since childhood, the waffle cone is one of the greatest inventions in the world. (Mint chip is best paired with its crispy, buttery, flakey goodness, but cookies ‘n cream was also acceptable.)

Part of the waffle cone’s sacredness stems from the fact that I didn’t partake very often in its sweet goodness. More often than not, I opted for the waffle cone’s less-expensive cousin, a pattern which can be explained in further depth by my relationship with library books–but I digress.

Many visits to the local parlor ended sans waffle cone because it fell victim to the call of its jealous relative, the sugar cone. Slightly less spacious, slightly more uncooperative (as cones go) than the waffle cone, the sugar cone was a constant, somewhat annoying companion in my forays into the realm of ice cream.

And so we come to the second category of opportunities–missed. To be honest, when I order my waffle cone these days, I look back with regret on all of the opportunities to enjoy such a simple treat that I missed.

As I move on to college this summer, I don’t want to look back on my years in Moraga with regret. I don’t want to be the one singing “coulda, shoulda, woulda.”

So I won’t. I won’t try to position myself in order to create new moments; I’m not going to seek out any unreachable opportunities. I’m going to enjoy everything as it comes, instead of keeping myself out of the present. I don’t want to lose what is happening right in front of me.

I’m not going to be sad about the things I could have done, but remember with happiness and pride all of the memories I’ve made while here at home. Everything that happens happens for a reason, and I’ve come to terms with it. So thanks, Campo, for all of the memories past and to come, because I’m just going to let them happen, and enjoy my ice cream, down to the last tip of my waffle cone.