I love candy.
I love it!
Just ask Jared. I am constantly yelping out “I want CAAAAAAAANDY!”, asking him if he has any candy, or does he want to go get me some candy, or can we go on a trip to buy some candy at the store.
For some reason being with him fills me with an inexplicable desire to just eat candy. Go figure.
Note: this obsession with candy is about CHOCOLATE candy only. No nasty mints or air heads or nerds or whatever fake crap you want to throw in my face. Such junk should not even classify as candy. Okay. you may proceed.
I especially love mini candy. I have a thing against actual candy BARS—probably because my female mind has been trained to stay away from them at all cost. Empty calories and sugar and processed, ick!
But brightly wrapped, mini, FUN SIZE, melty, now that is a shimmering beacon of LOVE. I love candy.
So when I found out there was a memoir about candy, I was very happy and inspired and I felt like fluffy nougat inside, because someone was talking about something I love.
Just read this quote.
“And if it seems, at times, that I am playing off my obsession with candy as something frivolous/heartwarming, this is, like most of our routines, just a way of obscuring its darker associations.”
-Steve Almond, Candyfreak; A Journey Through The Chocolate Underbelly of America
Wow. Once I can afford rent I want to buy that book.
But! Maybe I will just buy candy.