Like Vegemite, I am an acquired taste.  It doesn’t matter how much butter you use either.  True Vegemite afficionados know what that means. Vegemite looks like it would taste good if you are far enough away to only see the color.  It looks like it might taste like dark chocolate or a sweet spread of some kind.  For those who have had the jarring and traumatic experience of an Australian friend who is adamant that you try it, you probably had the following happen to you.  In your head you thought, “It looks like chocolate.  Maybe it is just chocolate…  But why would my friend want me to try it so much if it is just chocolate?  Why does he have that smirk on his face?  It might be prune but that could be ok.  It can’t be that bad, can it?”  I apologize to those of you who have “that” Aussie friend who didn’t warn you.  Who just stood back and watched as you took the heaping spoonful and put it in your mouth.  I am sorry that your brain started to spasm when the vegemite got close enough for you to realize it wasn’t sweet but it was too late to pull back.  Like a cold pool, sometimes you need to ease into it.  You need a small cracker or a piece of bread with enough butter to make it manageable.  You also need to be told that it won’t be sweet and for the love of god, don’t smell it.  Your shock and potential distaste shouldn’t be for someone else’s entertainment.  As a Vegemite lover and advocate, I hate when people have a bad first experience.  It ruins it forever and they will never try it again.

But back to me being an acquired taste.  I feel like it is fairly binary.  Half the people I meet really like me (or so it seems) and the other half don’t.  Apparently I am as polarizing as Hillary Clinton without the long list of accomplishments.  I wish I could blame it on my ideology rather than my entire personality.  Although once people get to know me, they might decide they don’t like me for that too.  Unfortunately at this point, I am not well known enough to be able to do any polls or gather any statistics.  Perhaps one day I can get a focus group together.  Until then, I will rely on facial expressions and body language.  All of this is a lot of pressure when you need to meet new people.  Which bucket will they fall into?  Will they like me because I seem quirky and opinionated or will they hate me because I seem quirky and opinionated?  Usually I am pretty oblivious to most things but now that I am moving I am thinking about how I present myself to people.  Don’t get me wrong, I have moved a lot in my life and obviously I have survived but it has been a long time since the last one.  I feel like I am getting ready for the first day of school but on a massive scale.

If this was the stereotypical plot of a rom-com I would meet my new gay bestie my first day to be followed by the love of my life shortly after.  Oh and the perfect job.  Let’s not forget about that.  But maybe that is the speed bump that derails the story until I get my head back in the game.  Maybe it will be more digestible if I think about my life as belonging to someone else and far more interesting if it is a movie…

In the meantime, I think my dad is trying to plant the online dating seed because he sent me an article all about it.  I thought he had given up but it looks like that isn’t the case.  His hope was only in hibernation, not dead.  If only he had another child so he could have higher expectations.  Fingers crossed he isn’t still wishing for grandchildren because that could be a difficult conversation.  The best he is going to get is a puppy and that won’t be for a while.

I am trying to convince two friends to move with me but they are being very non-committal.  I can’t understand why.  It is only a two state move for one and across the country for the other.  No big deal.  We can all hunker down in a one bedroom.  It will be like college but worse since we are adults who have lived on our own for way too long.  I have seen my future and it doesn’t include a roommate.  At this point I need to keep friends not lose them.

One of my fears is that I will have too much time on my hands.  I’m not talking about the good type of time that you look forward to like a staycation or getting your cable installed and having to work from home.  I am talking about the type of time where you aren’t productive because you have nothing else to do so it all can be done later.  At first it sounds great until you realize the only people you talk to are the baristas at Starbucks and you start to forget what a real conversation sounds like.  Once that happens it is easy to become more and more awkward because you are out of practice using full sentences and having coherent thoughts.  Eventually basic math will seem hard.  What if the baristas label me as one of “those” customers?

I hope my vegemite and I survive.