Ice Cream- written Spring 2006

When there’s one single thing that is at least two-thirds of what you eat, see, and think about, it is safe to say that that one thing is a large part of your life. Having something like this might not always be a good thing, but it certainly can be. For me, ice cream is that thing. It’s not uncommon for me to eat ice cream three meals a day, nor is it uncommon for me to end my day by scrubbing chocolate ice cream and hot fudge off of my body. I’ve been told a few times that I smell like dairy products.
You laugh, but I am serious. I was never really big on ice cream for the majority of my life, to be quite honest. I liked it, but only the occasional vanilla cone. None of these nuts, chocolate chips or ridiculous flavors. That is until I got my first job at a local ice cream stand. I thought it would just be like any other job. I’d work; I’d be tired; I’d go home; and a week later I’d get a pay check, which I would then use to buy food and CDs. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect that ice cream would soon become one of my life’s greatest passions.
Let me give you the grand tour. In Freezer One we have the popular but interesting flavors. All the butters: Butterscotch, Butternut, Butter Almond. Then Mint Chocolate Chip and Mint Cookie. Cherry Chocolate Chip, Caramel Cashew Chip, Chocolate Almond, Chocolate Walnut, Frozen Pudding, Raspberry Chocolate Chip, Orange Pineapple, Banana, Pistachio Nut, and Peppermint Stick. Freezer Two contains the classics: several cans of Vanilla, Chocolate, Strawberry, and Coffee, Maple Walnut, Mocha Almond, Heathbar, and Coffee Heathbar. Freezer Three holds the strange flavors, the new flavors, the experimental flavors, the yogurts, the sherbets, and the sorbets: Chocolate Chocolate Chunk, German Chocolate Fudge, Malted Moo Crunch, Malted Milk Ball, Pumpkin, Gingersnap Molasses, Heavenly Mash, Sugar-free Maple Walnut, Sugar-free Vanilla, Black Raspberry Chocolate Chip Yogurt, Grasshopper Yogurt, Peanut Butter Fudge Ripple Yogurt, Raspberry Sherbet, Watermelon Sherbet, Lime Sorbet, and Strawberry-Kiwi Sorbet. Think that’s a lot of flavors? Keep in mind that my ice cream stand is only seasonal and only opened a few weeks ago, so without a doubt I’m forgetting a lot of flavors.
I sure hope you didn’t skim that list. It may have seemed repetitive and boring, but skipping over a flavor of ice cream is equivalent to skipping over a flavor of my life. Anyway, let me continue. The difference between Sherbet and Sorbet is interesting; while they are similar, both being fruity and lighter than ice cream, Sorbet is completely dairy-free. Sorbet can be eaten by people who simply like it, or by people who are lactose-intolerant. Diabetics or participants in the Atkins diet may think that they can’t eat ice cream, but this is not true. We have sugar-free ice cream! We also have low-fat and non-fat frozen yogurt, and unlike the yogurts at other places, ours actually tastes good. We truly have an ice cream for everyone. And for every ice cream there is a type of person. I’m typically not one for flavor stereotyping, but people do it to themselves. It has gotten to the point where quite often I see a person walking toward my window, and I can pinpoint exactly what flavor, size, and possible toppings they will get. Then they order, and I am satisfactorily correct.
Even the best and most exciting jobs usually have their dull moments, but that’s not the case at an ice cream stand. Scooping ice cream, I am never bored. When regular customers come, it’s exciting to watch and help them decide between their favorite flavors, and when new customers come in it’s fun to suggest flavors. When I make a suggestion, I’m always right. The person always loves it. I can tell what a person will like, at least after asking a few questions. I also love the challenge that ensues after having to say “I’m sorry, we’re all out of that today.” I either suggest a close substitute, or something completely different that I know the person will love.
Since everyone loves ice cream, I’ve come across a wide variety of people in my day. I get people from all over the world, and it’s so interesting trying to understand a flavor of ice cream that might be hard to pronounce, topped off with some foreign accent. An entire family once came to my window, and each person asked for “berry” ice cream, and it was up to me to figure out whether that meant Strawberry, Black Raspberry, Raspberry Chocolate Chip, or Black Raspberry Chocolate Chip Yogurt. No matter the struggle of deciding on or understanding a flavor of ice cream, the smiles always come. Well, not always. A man once asked for “a small Buttercrunch in a cone.” I said “do you mind if I put it in a cup with a cone on top? The Buttercrunch is always very soft, and it will melt all over you if it’s in a cone.” He said “no, I want it in a cone.” So, I gave it to him in a cone, all drippy. Ten minutes later, he barged up to my window, covered in ice cream, demanding “this is ridiculous. I asked for my ice cream in a cone, not on my shirt.” I would have liked to have said “you can’t say I didn’t warn you,” but the customer is always right. I apologized and got him a new cone, this time with a cup as well. He walked off in an angry huff. Some people are just impossible to please.
The excitement of working at my ice cream stand doesn’t always come from the customers. Customers don’t always come, even in the summer, due to this thing known as precipitation. Whether it be rain or snow, wetness falling from the sky destroys people’s desire for ice cream. On one such day, my fellow scoopers and I found ourselves on the verge of boredom. We played cards, came up with a list of ridiculous alternate names for ice cream flavors, made action figures out of spoons, and the manager bought us all Chinese food. What’s better than wearing an apron and a baseball hat, eating ice cream and Lo Mein, and hanging out with your pals? Not much, I say.
The people I work with are wonderful, full of character, and are a constant source of hilarity. Frazer is everyone’s favorite. He’s about a hundred feet tall, and weighs about ten pounds. He trips over everything, is exceedingly personable, and has made close friends with a couple eighty-something year-old women who regularly come to get ice cream. “Fraz,” for short, is lovable and lanky. Then there’s Dave, who has been an employee for the past twelve years. He’s in his late twenties, graduated from an ivy-league college ages ago, and still lives with his parents. Most people in his position would be embarrassed to work with high school and young college students, but he thrives on teenage gossip. If you want to know the latest info, Dave’s the place to go. He gets the same thrill spreading rumors as a fourteen year-old girl. Next is Marsha, the day-time manager. She’s in her late fifties, and thrives off of cleanliness and order. It didn’t take me long to figure out that on Marsha’s shift, I’d better be scrubbing something at all times. All of the managers are middle-aged and have worked in the ice cream business for decades… except for Cindy. She was promoted to manager in her senior year of high school, and this was the cause of much controversy. She’s really nice, helpful, efficient, and knowledgeable about all things relevant to ice cream. I work with a wide variety of wonderful people; it would be near impossible to describe them all.
What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream? Actually, let me tell you. Usually it’s not hard to tell. And if it’s not obvious, I can probably tell you a lot about your personality from simply knowing what ice cream you like. Undecided customers like to ask what my favorite flavor is, in hopes that it will be something they will like. I have no favorite flavor. I am a connoisseur. For every flavor there is a season, and for every season there is a flavor. Really, I like every flavor. During the summer my freezer is a mess. Container upon container of different ice cream flavors are stacked everywhere- with no reason or particular order. My parents and three brothers, although not quite as diverse in their ice cream taste as I, love it quite a bit as well, and the containers that I bring home turn into a free-for-all. When we have guests over for dinner, it is always interesting watching them choose the flavor or flavors of ice cream that they would like for dessert. I believe I recall a time that we were able to offer twelve different flavors to an unsuspecting guest, who of course was quite pleased, although perhaps a bit overwhelmed.
Working at an ice cream stand, in addition to encouraging my passion for ice cream, has also helped me to perfect many skills that are useful for life. I make pretty much the best Banana Split you will ever eat. And my frappes? Incredible. (That’s right, I said Frappe, not Milkshake. No, they’re not the same thing. A Milkshake doesn’t have any ice cream in it- it’s just flavored milk. We’re in New England.) Sundaes are delicious, but not as delicious as a Doubledae, a Banana Split, or a Special(a Banana Split without the banana), for the simple reason that in a Sundae you only get one flavor and one topping. A Doubledae includes two and two, and a Banana Split and Special three and three. Also, the larger portions tend to be more rewarding. After eating a disgustingly enormous amount of ice cream, you simply feel like you’ve done a good job.
What? You think ice cream is fattening? Nonsense. It’s all in how you do it. My boss has been working at that ice cream stand and eating ice cream like it’s nobody’s business for who knows how long, and she’s one of the thinnest and most attractive middle-aged women I know. In addition, I have not a single co-worker who is obese or even overweight. We all eat ice cream; the only difference is that we also live healthy lifestyles. Sure, there are overweight people who eat a lot of ice cream, but there are also overweight people who like to watch TV, and the television certainly didn’t increase their body fat.
I think everyone should eat ice cream. It makes you happy. I’ve seen more smiling faces while serving ice cream than I saw in Disneyland, and that’s supposed to be the most magical and happy place in the world. Ice cream is great. Every flavor is great, every topping is great. Ice cream has taught me about people, and has taught me in an enormous way to appreciate life and all its many flavors.

what's coming

I'm going to post a series of essays that have been written by me. They will have nothing to do with each other, some will be informative, some will be silly, some will be boring, probably. Enjoy.

Today is Thanksgiving.

Hello, Blog. Long time no see.

I am tired. Turkey has that effect. Although, chemically speaking, isn't it just overeating that makes us sleepy? I didn't really overeat. I ate the correct amount, but am sleepy because I haven't really moved all day and I ate a lot of sugar (PIE) and then I played word games for endless hours. I miss my brother Robbie. I ate black olives alone today... well, not quite alone, but usually he and I eat copious amounts and others just nibble. Today it was just I eating the copious amounts. I hope he had some black olives in AZ.

Ramble ramble.

Cleaned my room the other day. It's pretty exciting. I need to clean my car. I needed to clean my room worse than I needed to clean my car, if you can believe that. If you've seen my car. You're more likely to have seen my car than my room, anyway. Whoever YOU are. No one reads this. Maybe someone. Maybe.

A good chunk of Christmas shopping is done, and for that I am quite proud of myself. I love karaoke. It's a new discovery of mine. Another new discovery, even though it seemed obvious to me, is that eighties pop songs are huge crowd-pleasers.

Never speed on the Lowell Connector. I've gotten two tickets in the past month. Appealed them both. Haven't heard back from either. So maybe neither of them were received and now there's a warrant out for my arrest for unpaid speeding tickets. I kind of hope so. It'd be exciting.

I am exhausted. Need to change my sheets so my grandmother can sleep in my bed...and then I get to sleep in the weird not-quite-a-bed thing.

on the road again

It has been quite a while since my last post! I'm sure no one minds, since judging by the amount of comments I have received on this blog, no one reads it. But that's okay! I still enjoy it.

Today I'm embarking with Brianne on our very first ROAD TRIP! Our itinerary is as follows:

Today: Houdini Museum, Woodstock Museum, spend the night in Scranton. Take pictures with the WELCOME TO SCRANTON sign.

Monday: Visit Jim Thorpe. Go to Gettysburg. Eat chili dogs (Brianne doesn't know about this yet). Go on ghost tour.

Tuesday: Baltimore with Brianne's college room mate. Sleep in a house. Who knows what today could hold!

Wednesday: Philadelphia! Visit Pez Dispenser Museum, hang out with my high school friend who recently moved and became a grown-up. Wait... I am a grown up.

Thursday: Drive to Rhode Island. Visit Thaeje. Sleep on a couch.

Friday: Plimoth Plantation? Back to MA!

I'll attempt to tell good stories throughout the next week. Hopefully someone reads this thing!

there and back again

I got home from Haiti two nights ago. Culture shock set in immediately.

When we arrived at the airport, we were greeted by one of the translators we had last year. "Sarah! Jessica! I didn't know you were coming!" Teams from the US and Canada show up at this place weekly, if not more often. The fact that he (and others) remembered not only my face, but my name, is incredible. I wasn't lied to when I was told that these people would never forget me.

One of the days I was working at the hospital I was talking to a woman who I also knew from last year. She asked me what I do for work at home. I was about to answer her, when it occurred to me, "she's probably never heard of Starbucks." So I said "I work at a coffee shop... have you ever heard of Starbucks?" I got a blank stare and a "no." If someone had ever asked me "do you think there are people in the world who've never heard of Starbucks?" the answer would obviously be "yes." But no one's ever asked me that question. I've never thought about it. It's a strange thing to think about, no?


I could talk on and on about the poverty, but it's unnecessary. I'll tell you about it if you ask me. It's depressing. And what's even more depressing is being back in the US. Watching people live so extravagantly, get so upset about things that don't matter at all... all while I have friends who are living in poverty. I mean, the people I know are better off than most others. They have jobs, are educated or being educated, they have places to live, and most have families. Well, the orphans don't have families. But they have each other. But they're all skin and bones. They clean their plates (when they are given meals). They have little clothing, and even less of other things that we take for granted. Like electricity, running water, internet, clean water. We walked past this water source where people bathe, do their laundry, and get their drinking water. It's all from the same place. And then we walked down a ways, and I noticed a dead pig lying in the water. Can you imagine living like that? That's reality. It's not the way the majority of the world lives, and it's certainly not the way we live, but there are real, live, loving, caring, intelligent, educated human beings out there who live like this from day to day.

Oops. I talked about the poverty. That's what happens... I try not to, because I know it disengages people's interest, and it always comes off as sounding demeaning. I'm sorry. I don't mean to. I've just seen and experienced things, and when you ask me to tell you about it I don't know how to respond. Do you want "it was a really great trip. I had a really nice time." or do you want "three days ago I was holding and hugging and feeding de-worming medication to hungry orphans with no pants or underwear, with bloated bellies and orange hair from malnutrition. So now it's really depressing and emotionally grueling to try to appease customers who are yelling at me because I ran out of chocolate chips for their Venti Java Chip Frappuccino." You know? People don't want to hear that. But it's true.

I wish people would say "I want to politely inquire about your trip, but if you speak more than one sentence in response my eyes will instantly glaze over with disinterest."

oh boy

This past weekend didn't go exactly as I had planned, but it was still lovely. Instead of fasting for about two days as I had planned, I fasted for about 12 hours. I think I accomplished all that I had planned on, and even a little more. I spent Friday afternoon walking around Walden Pond (the weather was BEAUTIFUL), stopping as often as I felt to sit, look, think, write, meditate, pray. It didn't take me long to realize that instead of starving myself for a second day, it would be much more meaningful and fulfilling to spend some time with my family. So I spent Saturday morning making jewelry with my mom, grandmother, aunts, and Suzie, and I spent Saturday night feasting on sushi with Spence. On Sunday, after packing all of the donations that we're taking to Haiti, I went to church and then out to a ridiculous restaurant with Rob and Suzie. About a month ago I won a $100 gift certificate on the radio to Masa, and I decided to take them. We had a really fun time, and I don't think I've ever eaten a meal nearly as expensive as that one.

Last night I spent a much-needed night out with Ripley and Michael. Ripley had a gift certificate to Denny's, so we went. I'd never been to Denny's before! It seemed to me to just be IHOP, but with different colored tables, and a slightly more trendy music selection. It was so good to hang out with them... I can't believe how lucky I am to have them for friends, and to have had them for so long.

Well, tomorrow I leave for Haiti. I'm a little nervous all of a sudden, probably more about the fact that I haven't started packing than anything else. I guess I should go do that...

natural segregation?

This morning as I waited at LGH to get blood drawn, I noticed something very odd. The way the waiting room is set up is there is a big room, which is separated into smaller room-type things with chairs set up in U shapes, which a row of large fake plants separating each U. The chair U closest to the room that everyone is waiting to get into also has a TV, but none of the others do. This is the section that I naturally walked to. I mean, it was closest to where I wanted to end up, it had a TV, and something about it just seemed... natural. Of course, I didn't think that through, it's just where I automatically went.

Then, after sitting for about ten minutes, I began to realize that the waiting room was separated into racial groups. I was sitting in a U of chairs entirely filled with Caucasian people, the one next door had Black and Latino people, and the one next to that had people of Asian descent. I noticed this, and it disturbed me... why are people doing this? Why does it just happen, with no noticeable intent? Why did I also subconsiously follow the masses?

A woman sitting in the U beside the one I was in had her name called. It wasn't her turn yet, but she was next. As I saw her walking over towards us, I thought "this is good, she's going to sit down. This whole thing was just in my head." But, she didn't sit down. She stood, just outside of our little section. Maybe it was just because she knew she'd have to get up again soon? I hope so.