Story time: When I was a sophomore in high school I despised country music. I hadn't really listened to a lot of it, true, but that didn't stop me from hating like a twitter troll. Fast forward to the summer and I'm working my first job as a maid, mostly doing laundry in a basement. There were a lot of shitty parts of that job: cleaning the honeymoon suite, that time someone left their mini fridge--stuffed full of leftover Chinese food--open to ferment and stink up the entire room. But the most dreaded time was spent working in that damned basement washing, drying, folding, folding and more folding the endless rounds of sheets. The only thing to break free from it all and mildly enjoy the work was to play the radio, a cheap boombox looking thing straight from 1992 that received a single, twangy, station. By the end of summer I'd listened to hours of country and I was hooked. I've loved it ever since, sometimes more than others, but always enough to jam out at our local hick bar.
This tends to happen with my tastes. The things I've passionately disliked wiggle their way into my heart. So it's been with country, beer (the only alcohol I could afford during my semester in Turkey), and now espresso. A single night when I needed a little more umph than tea could provide has suddenly turned into ordering a dirty chai for the taste alone! What next!? I start drinking coffee?! With just creamer!? I'd call bullshit on the whole thing if it weren't doing me so many favors. The absence of exhaustion is a beautiful thing. Besides, I like giving old things a new try. Call it one of the many ways I'm enjoying new tastes.
Now if only I turned into someone who enjoys running we'd really be in business.