I’ve been wondering something for a few months now and I finally just have say it out loud… when did Enrique Iglesias get hot? It’s a quandary beyond my comprehension that snuck up on me entirely without my consent. If you know me at all you realize pigs have now flown. Remember that awful song Hero circa 2000 that made every silly girl swoon? It killed my affinity for ballads and drove me into the arms of Incubus. Enrique has been my pop culture arch nemesis ever since. Eleven years later and he’s become my new John Cusack. What the heck happened here? Is it him? Is it me? Is it the fact that his latest can’t-get-it-out-of-my head song marries deceivingly juvenile lyrics with samples from Lionel Richie’s “All Night Long”? Perhaps. But I realize a greater power is at work here… I’m clearly evolving.
So as the sun sets on my 30th year, I decided to rethink some of the things I previously tested and promptly vetoed to see if I had a similar reaction to them. Following are my findings:
String Cheese: 1985 – Vowed eternal hatred to this wannabe. 2011 – It still ain’t cheese but it’s pretty darn fun playing with my food.
Heath bar: 1987 – I’ll trade you for a Kit Kat. 2011 – I frown at my 5 year old self through the space/time continuum for being such a picky child. This thing is genius.
The color orange: 2001 – It makes a great nail polish on Halloween. 2011 – Eliminating this void in my wardrobe may very well be the key to eternal happiness.
Carbonation: 1983 – Sprite, root beer or grape soda… it all tastes like tiny elves poking my tiny taste buds with their tiny pitchforks. 2011 – In a pinch I’ll accept, with reluctance, a Smirnoff Ice.
Pulp Fiction: 1994 – Seriously? People like this? 2011 – Seriously? People like this?
I suppose some things never change, but in a world where I can think Enrique is a hottie, miracles can surely happen. This whole phenomenon makes me wonder what else I may have missed out on by making snap judgments the first time around… could I possibly like country music now? Do I maybe look fantastic in jeggings? Is that kid I broke up with in third grade because he didn’t like peanut butter the one? Not sure I’m willing to revisit any of those things, but I’m pleased to learn that you can teach a relatively young dog the same trick again.