oh, papa.

(First post from the iBook! So exciting to write from the couch!)



I pass by a Beard Papa cream puff shop every time I leave school and head for the subway. There have been nights were all I can think about is how marvelous a cream puff would be to savor on the train home. Usually on those nights there is a long line, and my desire to not miss the next train overrides the sugar potential. Most often, though, I just tell myself "You've been sitting for the past four hours, will sit for another hour on the train, then go to sleep. You really don't need a cream puff." But last Sunday I was leaving school early. I would be active for hours before going to sleep, and thought that it really wouldn't be so bad to have a cream puff (and one for hubby, of course).

So I went in and ordered my Japanese cream puff from a Latin American, and clutched the precious bag all the way home. There was also a race to make a train (which I missed), so calories were certainly burnt in preparation for the feast. After the first bite, I knew that I should have given in to the cream puff impulse earlier.

The cream puff was terrible. The pastry was really salty; the cream was flavorless. All of these months, I've been passing by thinking how special it would be to have one, and that it was going to be a great occassion when I finally went in and treated myself.

The lesson? Don't deny yourself, because there's a good possibility that whatever it is won't live up to the high expectations you've created in the denial process. The iBook is the exception, of course; this thing ROCKS.