Tag Archives: chocolate

Sweet Advice

After careful consideration, I’ve decided to only take advice from chocolate—namely Dove Promises.

I’m not a big dessert person, but I do enjoy a little piece of chocolate every night—something I consider my chocolate closure on the day. As such, Promises usually wind up in my cart over the other mini treats due to the fact that you also get a little note inside the wrapper.

Let’s take a look.

be

There’s a big difference between being busy and being productive, and I’m trying to remember that it’s called “conserving awesomeness” and not laziness. So often I’m already thinking of the next conversation, the next meal, the next post, etc. that I’m not really “in” the moment.

Note to self—human being, not human doing.

daring

I’m not that “daring,” so to speak, and I think it stems from an incident when I was little and pumping away on the swing set. “Someone” dared me to jump off and be like Super Grover from the Muppets. I had some good hang time, but landed directly on my tailbone. From that point on I carefully screened all my dares.

Thanks, Mom.

flowers

Unless you’re at a funeral, it’s hard not to smile when you see fresh flowers. I don’t randomly buy myself bouquets, but I spend money on my flowers because I find calm in nature—except for bugs.

Especially that one bug that somehow manages to keep circling my head while I’m walking even though I’m flapping my arms around like an idiot to get it away. But other than those laced with neurotic bugs, flowers make me happy.

smileDove

Sometimes people look at me like I’m nuts when I smile at them—and no, it’s not when I’m flapping my arms around my head like an idiot to swat off the bugs—but I don’t care. A smile can make someone’s day.

However, this wrapper isn’t really advice and it’s a little bit creepy, no? I don’t really know this “Dove,” so how does “Dove” know what my smile looks like? (And honestly, it’s not that great of a compliment considering I don’t actually accessorize with anything more than cat hair at this point.)

tastedove

GAH! My laugh? How does “Dove” know what my laugh sounds like? And now that I’m thinking about it, what’s with signing all these notes with “Love” and using an exclamation point?

I think things are moving a little bit too fast. All that I wanted was a piece of chocolate, not some sugar-coated stalker. One more chance…

advice

Okay now, hold on. 

This wrapper is proof that “Dove” is not in fact a sugar-coated stalker, as they’ve obviously never read my blog and the “advice” that I spew. If they had, they wouldn’t make this ridiculous suggestion.

Now that I feel a bit better about things, I have no problem passing along the final advice I received:

treatdove

Be it chocolate or flowers or simply a laugh, treat yourself today.

And per Dove’s suggestion, your bill is in the mail.

Sweet advice, indeed.

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Chocolate Closure

I’m not a big dessert person at all, but I do enjoy a little piece of chocolate every night. It’s something I consider my chocolate closure on the day. Although I am partial to the small Hershey’s Bliss chocolates, Dove Promises come in a close second. The prices are practically the same, yet when it comes down to it, I usually throw the Dove Promises in my cart.

Why?

Because I get more than just a small piece of (delicious) chocolate with the Dove—I get a small little note inside each wrapper.

dove

I have since made a pledge to overachieve this promise on the weekends.

That doesn’t sound like much and the sayings are rather lame, but I have to admit that I look forward to reading the message each night when I eat my piece (or two) of chocolate. It’s like a fortune cookie that actually tastes good. When I open the wrapper of each Hershey’s Bliss, I am faced with an empty wrapper and a sigh.

Why?

Because I get just a small piece of (delicious) chocolate with the Hershey’s, and that’s it. With all other factors being virtually equal, it’s that little extra something with the Dove that persuades me to buy that particular product. It’s that little note—my chocolate closure.

Where am I going with this?

I’m not sure if it’s age, experience or ambivalence, but I’ve gotten rather good at letting things go. There’s not that anxiety hanging on every decision I make (or don’t make.) There’s not that stress of wondering what I think others want me to do. There’s not the resentment or frustration I used to haul around each day. For the most part, I do what I want and move on.

I’ve come a long way. I’m proud of that.

But there’s still that part of me that wants closure, and not just of the chocolate variety. When I send an e-mail, I want a quick reply. If I leave a message, I want a swift response. When I publish something, I want feedback—good or bad—so I’m not forced to make assumptions as to just where I might stand.

There are times I still doubt what I do, say, write or sing at the top of my lungs when I think no one else can hear me. And yes, silence still makes me doubtful at times.

It’s probably the Leo in me—we are a prideful bunch.

But to that I shrug and say oh well. It’s a natural craving. Some days and some people might be more Bliss than Promises, more sugar than substance.

I’m okay with that. I’m proud of that.

So if I want a damn piece of chocolate to tell me to “Write a letter, not an e-mail” or “You make everything lovely,”  that’s all the closure that I need.

Not that I don’t expect an automatic e-mail reply, text message or comment on my Facebook status, blog post, etc. I do. I probably always will. It’s just that now I feed my feelings of insecurity with a couple pieces of chocolate at night, convince myself that I’m wonderful and then move on.

Closure—chocolate or otherwise.