Saturday, September 5, 2009

I scream for ice cream


I am having a brain freeze, but not the eating ice cream too fast kind of frozen headache. My brain is literally frozen on the image of a soft serve treat: McDonald's vanilla cones. (sigh, heart)

Maybe it is this desert climate? My dad tries to tell me that Brazil is more sweltering because of the humidity. But (without getting all Sylvia Plath on you) set your oven at 100 and insert head. It's dry heat aka hot. I suppose vacationing in the land of Mickey D's had me thinking the cone would pop out of the nightstand drawer but the golden arches are miles from this desert town. Tried the Dairy Queen drive-thru last night. The vanilla cone--even with sprinkles and crunchies--is just a poser. And I may be a foodie but the gourmet fancy flavored freeze just won't do. I want that one dollar (one Brazilian Real, too) bargain swirl. During my pregnancy in Sao Paulo, I waddled to Mickey's place every afternoon. I blamed it on those gestational cravings. But postpartum? Well I just call that addiction. And I'm in non-voluntary Rehab.

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