This post has nothing to do with desserts, though I wish I could have some. You know those good, sweet memories that bring on that silly smile? yeah those, everyone has them. Well, I tend to think of those as life’s little desserts that pop up with nostalgic aromas and when one indulges them, It results into those smiles,very well worth it and it doesn’t pack on the proverbial pounds which is an added bonus. Being an 80’s baby, I grew up into the 90’s and back then if you didn’t douse your hair in Pressol pomade or hair tonic then u weren’t happening. With its promise of shiny curls you would have been a social pariah if you didn’t try it, kinky hair or not. But ladies and gentlemen that wasn’t the highlight…oh nooo!! I didn’t live for the hype, I lived for the Pressol ad, when it came on I would be found on the couch patiently waiting for the catch phrase which ended with someone sing-shouting “……Pressol!!! shhhhhh….don’t tell anyone!” complete with the index finger on lips silencing whoever hadn’t gotten the memo. So I wasn’t surprised, when last week I came across Pressol being sold at one of the local supermarkets and I quickly bought it for nostalgic reasons. I went home and as soon as I unloaded the shopping bag my mum and dad belted out in unison “shhhhh! don’t tell anyone!” Now,that’s mental dessert right there!!
Fast forward into mid 2000s being a high school kid, naïvety in tow, and if you swear you didn’t own several mills and boons, you is a lie! and no! you can’t sit with us!!! I read all those romance novels that cite the inevitable forevers, suffice to say reality has since awarded me a scorching bitch slap but I shall not relent! Anyway, all these novels in the romance genre unleash the same pattern,boy meets girl, love at first sight or better yet hate, jawlines and narrow hips mentioned, dental formulae applauded, wavy blonde hair praised, lust, desire, breasts are cupped and moans are heard, disaster strikes, reunions then coupled with heat filled sex and then happily ever after maybe throw in a dash or declarations of impending childbirth to add a bit of realistic spice to it. It’s never a Quasimodo hybrid, perfection is key.Though I did read another fiction romance that had the handsome heart breaker as a cat that turned into an Adonis at midnight to lavish in the attentions of the damsel in distress, very weird! If you don’t see anything wrong with that, I don’t know, but to each his own.That did not stop most of us from reading,re-reading and smuggling in X-rated literature!
One of those books I smuggled into school was Once in Paris,as you can see on my phone’s eBook reader up there I have read of late. It was almost the same pattern but said girl is 18 and the troubled man is twice her age, he lost his wife to cancer and he is still in love with the ghost. Girl is young and hot-blooded,and has mommy issues wants the man.There’s a stepfather who wants to sell her off to a charitable middle-eastern man without a penis for financial gain… There’s kidnappings involved the man is a hero, girl gets knocked up in the process….it’s an interesting read. I re-read it to see how my mind-set will compare to the first time I read it, I traveled back in time,met my teenage self, gave her a pat on the back with a sound ” You will survive!” speech, let’s just say it brought a sense of nostalgia but I could see right through the plot like oh well! if it isn’t tall, well chiseled Greek god with little miss sex bomb sunshine, the sarcasm ran deep in me. I prefer realistic any day! Like Haruki Murakami’s Norwegian wood, a love story that could happen any day,the highs, the lows, sad but relatable!