As a biased free spirit, I am rooting for the Frida on the right. This painting strongly reminded me of an event in my life that occurred the other day when I picked up a pizza. I scanned the menu while I chatted with the hostess. On the menu the buffalo chicken pizza caught my eye. It had roasted peppers, onions, hot sauce and homemade Gorgonzola dressing- oh and chicken. It was certainly the most delicious buffalo chicken pizza I’d ever heard of. “Your buffalo chicken pizza sounds really good. I don’t eat meat, but I used to lovebuffalo chicken pizza- before I became a vegetarian,” I blurted to the hostess. Our conversation ensued and she suggested I get it sans chicken because it would likely be just as delicious as with the chicken, I concurred and went on to tell her that when I used to eat meat, like buffalo chicken. I thought about buffalo chicken for a moment. Maybe she was right. I loved the hot sauce, the fried crispy breading, and the dressing, but never truly liked the chicken part. She nodded her head in agreement knowingly as we continued to discuss this issue.
I walked out with my vegetarian pizza, crushed tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, and basil, I thought about our conversation. As I spoke of my former self, the one who loved buffalo chicken pizza, It felt like I was talking about someone else. Indeed we were no longer the same person, but how could that be?
