Things I Love #4: Hybrids

Because I am disastrously poor, one of my new resolutions is to go to the supermarket with a completely open mind and simply buy whatever is on sale, then take it home and eat it.  This is the kind of thinking that resulted in a dinner tonight of banana-pepperoni-cream cheese sandwiches.

Before you tell me we're not friends anymore: 1) the cream cheese was the fancy whipped kind, with chives, and 2) if I had put a piece of candy on top, I would have covered the entire food pyramid in one meal.  Efficiency is another new resolution of mine.

And it was actually quite alright, so, you know, put that in your pipe, as they say.

While eating my hybrid marvel, I got to thinking about all the other forms of hybrids that I love in life.  I love driving hybrid cars, as long as they are SUVs.  I love having Parallels on my Mac and knowing that I will never use it.  I love looking at the hybrid couples who pass me on the street, and if they have been hugging each other very tight, I love looking at their beautiful hybrid offspring, too.

It's tempting to think that maybe hybrid things are just better than individual things.  For example, goldendoodles.  Golden retrievers are kind of dumb, and poodles are just out-of-this-world unacceptable.  But somehow when you mash the two together, the result is adorable.  And I never use that word, but seriously, when you see one of these creatures, you just want to squeeze it so tight that it goes flat.  And then buy some 3-D glasses and look at it so hard that it becomes 3-D again.

But maybe society, myself included, has become too dependent on hybrids.  When did it stop being okay to eat plain vanilla ice cream, or to have only one academic degree?  What was so bad about gas-only cars?  I'm joking, people.  All you Green-Teamers need to reach back and remove the plastic bottle, because you are taking yourselves way too seriously.

I have always thought that one should be able to go up to the counter at Dunkin Donuts and ask for a doughnut -- to literally just look the person in the eye and say, "I'd like a doughnut."  But you can't do that.  The doughnut person would probably strike you.  Instead you have to say, "I want that doughnut over there, the one glazed with milk of magnesia -- no, not the one with the bruise-colored sprinkles, the one with the boullion cube in the center."

I was actually thinking about opening a one-doughnut doughnut shop.  The shop would sell only one flavor, which would be called "plain flavor."  And maybe if it was a hit, I could stop being poor, and maybe even consider a hybrid degree, not to mention a nicer meal.

But until then, my third new resolution will be to start simplifying wherever I can.  Which I guess means either bananas or straight pepperoni for dinner tomorrow.  Or straight whipped cream cheese, though really, if it came to that, even I probably wouldn't stand for being my friend.