Ode to Cookies

According to my new pair of heather-gray (who is heather and why is she gray?) boxer shorts, I dropped everything to donate blood today. Overall, not a bad experience. My body reluctantly relinquished the last two tubes of blood, nearly costing me my consciousness, but overall, not bad. And for those of you wondering why I continue to donate despite my low iron, tendency to faint and zombie-like pulse and blood-pressure: I do it all for the cookies (please refrain from sticking them up your “yeah”). I really like cookies. In fact, I think cookies may be little remnants of Eden, giving us just a taste of the perfection we once had. Ice cream ranks as one of my all-time favorite desserts, but ice cream does not have the same portability as cookies. You can’t put ice cream in your pockets (well you could, but, well, you get the idea). It’s hard to eat ice cream in the car. Cookies are not usually as sticky and they have a higher melting point.

Cookies are also dunkable. I love sitting down with a nice glass of milk and dipping a cookie into it, watching as the cookie reaches sogginess equilibrium – where the cookie is nice and soft and laden with milk, but not to the point where it breaks and dissolves back into the glass – and then popping the whole thing into my mouth, relishing the juxtaposition of the melt-in-your-mouth quality of the milky half with the satisfying crunch of the dry half. Instead of saying, “whatever flips your switch” or “whatever floats your boat,” I think I will start saying “whatever dunks your cookies,” because what could be better than dunking cookies?

Cookies also say, “I care.” A cynic might feel that cookies actually say, “I’m cheap and couldn’t buy you a real present,” but the point is that when you give someone the gift of cookies, it shows that you care about them enough to take the time and effort to make them such a wonderful and tasty gift (for the record: money, while lacking in the tasty department, is also a wonderful gift). Little cookies, big cookies, warm cookies, soft cookies, crunchy cookies, cookies dipped in cool-whip, cookie ice cream sandwiches, cookies with nuts, cookies with sprinkles, cookie dough, cookie sheets, girl scout cookies, cookie cutter sharks – it’s impossible not to see that cookies = goodness. They taste good, they smell good, they’re fun to make. They are the only things standing between you and unconsciousness after donating a pint of blood (by the way, I’ve donated 1/2 gallon so far). So the next time you eat a cookie, stop. Take some time to appreciate it. Because cookies are beautiful things.

In other news: Holy shit! Did anyone else watch the men’s 4×200 relay? Also, I think that in an effort to improve their image, China now gives their gymnasts smiling lessons. And I also think that head-gymnastic coaches in general are lying through their teeth when they say that some of these girls are 16.

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