Carbonation

Many a beverage in the world today has what some call "pop," "soda," "soda pop," "sparkling" or "carbonated" water as a part of it's make-up. This stuff creates a "fizzy" sensation in one's mouth and throat as it is sipped or, in some cases, guzzled down. About 97% of the people I know enjoy carbonation and say it is the reason that they love certain drinks so much.

I simply don't understand the excitement and addiction that is associated with carbonated beverages. Like I must have a really rare and sensitive mouth condition or something because I hate fizz.

And yes, I've tried it many times for those of you who may think I'm judging without experience. Every now and again I'll have a sip of pop and am quickly reminded of why I passionately dislike it.

In the best way I can describe the way fizz feels when it hits my mouth... it burns like watching drops of water evaporate on contact in a heated fry pan. That may not make much sense but it burns, ok? Also it gets even worse if my stomach decides to send it back up because it re-burns my mouth and throat and gets my nasal passages involved too! Who wants to suffer through all that?

I realize that my experience is, as I mentioned before, extremely rare because 97% of the people I know really enjoy soda and often forget that I literally just can't even.

But I discovered recently that certain situations can influence me to attempt to enjoy carbonated drink. For example, if I've paid more than $5 for a drink at a restaurant and find out that it has some fizz in it, I will choke it down so that my money is not wasted. Another situation is when I've just met someone whom I am trying to impress and they are really excited to share their favourite soda pop with me, I will try my best to smile and, again, choke it down for the sake of being polite, but I will also commit to telling them my honest opinion of all things fizzy in hopes that I do not have to repeatedly face the awkwardness of being kindly offered something I hate.

"Clearly Canadian" is a type of sparkling water that has amazing flavour despite its stronger-than-your-average carbonation. I drank a whole bottle of the stuff the other day (wild cherry flavour) as an act of politeness because the person who offered it to me was extremely excited that they got to witness my first taste of this spectacular nostalgic beverage. Unfortunately it was painful as ever but I can almost say that the flavour was worth it though I will probably not be drinking another one unless my mouth and throat are numbed first. More for my friend I suppose :) because I still hate fizz.

Loud Cars

Many people drive loud vehicles whether by accident or on purpose. I'm exclusively referring to the sound of a roaring engine though pumping tunes can also be loud.

Engine-wise, my car has mostly been like a purring kitten. Even revving it doesn't make it much louder.

Though there was one time when the kitten spontaneously morphed into a roaring lion while I was driving one morning. I drove around the city in my lion for only two hours as I had figured out that the pipe connected to my muffler was severed and I had it fixed ASAP. It doesn't take much to turn a kitten into a lion.

I don't mind if other people drive loud cars, I just don't want to be one of them. It draws too much attention.

One of my friends drives a loud car, a mustang to be exact. It's engine roars everywhere it goes and the windows are tinted so that nobody can see the driver. I see and hear this car often because my friend lives near where I live. Last night it entered into my dreams...

In a house carved into a canyon lived a mom with her three kids and a golden retriever. Two of the kids were under the age of five, the youngest was still an infant. I was spending time with this young family, playing with the children while we waited for the oldest boy to come home. Mom was not worried, she carried on with life as if it happened all the time. They were used to the young-man being out and about. He was a busy boy after all. Soon the sun was setting and the mother offered me a place to sleep for the night. I graciously accepted and took my place in the front room on an air mattress, the dog curled up next to me. A loud ROAR awakened the house as a white mustang pulled up behind the house. The rock face was lowered and the car drove up into the hollow cave. I got up to greet the young man, who was wearing a backwards ball cap, his long hair resting on his shoulders clad in a dusty grey t-shirt and jeans. He seemed surprised to see me but he looked too tired to care. "Oh hi Jessica" is all he said. The next night he would be gone again, that was for sure. Mom just shook her head and said, "That's just the way things are. Now who wants some breakfast?" The little kids cheered excitedly as pancakes were plopped onto their plates. I quickly finished my plate and watched as the teen ate slowly. "Do you want to go for a drive?" he looked at me and I paused for a moment. "You're driving right?" I asked because I knew the mustang was a standard and I did not know how to drive one of those yet. "Of course! Now let's go!" I could hardly believe he had the energy when he jumped up, grabbed my arm, and raced toward the door...

It wasn't a very long dream, but I definitely could hear engines roaring outside as I slept which probably placed the car in my dream.

I don't fully understand what the thrill is in driving a loud car in the middle of the night, but there must be something to it because lots of people enjoy that sort of thing.

A Narrow Escape

It was a small gathering, about fifteen, at the old woman's tiny home in the shady neighbourhood. It seemed as though her house was a bit lighter than those situated nearby. The one-room bungalow's creamy yellow paint glowed in the summer sunset light whilst the other buildings sat in shadow. Of all the dwellings in the area, it didn't come as a shock that it was the target.

The purpose of the meeting had barely been stated when the attack started. A loud smash outside immediately alerted the group and one cautious peek at the front window was met with the exploding force of a baseball bat as the window shattered into a million shards on the floor allowing a man with elaborate tattoos on both arms to burst through with the weapon.

I wasn't even sure why I had come. All I can remember is that everyone who came to the meeting had one thing in common. We were all believers.

The person nearest to me was a girl with shoulder-length brown hair and deep brown eyes. She grabbed my arm and began to pull me toward the back door of the house. Upon reaching the exit I noticed that the other members of our group were frantically leaping out the other now broken windows in an attempt to escape the onslaught. The old woman was left behind.

We all drove here in separate vehicles and parked along both sides of the street. The girl pointed toward her black SUV while two of the attackers were slashing the tires and beating the 4x4 with bats. She hung her head and I noticed that they had not yet touched my car. As we tried to sprint toward the silver civic, the enemies reached it first and continued their abuse.

In my mind I thought all hope was lost as my friend and I began to run in the opposite direction of the chaos and soon discovered that we were being followed. The man with the tattooed arms was pursuing us as we scampered through the streets.

We were welcomed into an Indian bazaar filled with extravagant statues of all kinds lining the walls and shops as far as the eye could see glowing with brightly coloured pieces of clothing and trinkets of every kind. Our enemy had given up the chase for now.

Upon exiting the bazaar I spotted my car ahead and it looked intact. As we approached I noticed many scratches and it was clear that the mob had begun their destruction but then were distracted as the damage was minimal. I carefully opened the driver's side door and noticed that the car was stuffed with the remains of slashed tires. The girl and I worked quickly to throw out the debris and then drove off into the night...

Dreams often leave me with many questions. Like why did I dream that and what was it about? What happened to the old woman? Why was I involved in the meeting at her house? Who was the brown-haired brown-eyed girl with me? I don't reckon I'll ever find out but it all makes for a decent story starter!