A bean burrito with queso, please

I'm afraid my earlier post about following your impulses may have been slightly misleading, as I am not as ballsy as I imagined myself to be. I came to this conclusion while standing in the cosmetics aisle at Walmart for an entire five minutes of my life that I'll never get back, debating over whether to go with the same tube of mascara I'd been using, or to try the "dramatic effect" version. 'How dramatic is dramatic?' I asked myself. 'I have enough drama in my life as is. I know my mascara works. But this mascara could be the best mascara ever invented! Or it could be a waste of five bucks...' This is literally the carousel ride my mind went on until I finally walked away with the same old, undramatic tube of mascara. (Did you know undramatic was a word? Me neither.)

Sure, if my gut tells me to pack up and leave my life, I oblige happily. But if my gut doesn't give two cents about my cosmetics choices, I'm entirely unwilling to take a risk. And it's not just mascara. Anyone who has ever eaten out with me on multiple occasions knows that I have one dish of choice at each restaurant, and that's what I'm sticking with. Going somewhere new is a nightmare. Before my last date, I actually looked up the online menu so I could take as long as needed to find something my bland taste buds would approve of. (This completely backfired when the restaurant we planned on going to was full and we were forced to relocate, but I made do.) I will not try something new if I can help it. I had myself talked into getting bangs the other day, but after losing half a night's sleep over it, I dismissed the idea. If it's not broken, why fix it?

I'm prone to overanalyzing why I tick the way I tock, but maybe the answer here is that I'm just a giant pansy. Or maybe it's okay to pick a dish and stick with it. Because quite honestly, that's the only thing I've ever been able to decide on. I've enrolled at five colleges but attended two, changed my major a dozen times; take one look at my closet and you won't be able to figure out if I'm a kindergarten teacher or rock band groupie. So yes, I will take a bean burrito with queso at El Charro and the Key West chicken and shrimp at Cheddar's...please give me a bowl of buttered noodles at Noodles and Co., and Hotbox -- well you don't even ask what I want anymore.

In other news, happy 80th birthday to Marlene Crane, and if you're ever driving to or from St. Louis on I-70, stop by her restaurant off Exit 161 North and get an ice cream cone. (And a pulled pork sandwich with a side of cottage cheese. That's my usual.)