Dominica Cao ‘19
This is a public service announcement: the second floor of Cushing House holds enough blenders to start its own independent smoothie shop. Single-serve, double-serve, supersized-serve they have it all. Or perhaps you’re not into dairy-laden beverages. No fret, no worries. They also make slushies, teas, protein shakes and mythical concoctions. That unexplainable noise you heard at 3 a.m. in the morning? It’s probably the occasional craving for and satisfying creation of cheesy potato purees.
But here’s the mystery: why is there a sudden interest in personal blenders? Students are bumping into each other in the bathroom and exchanging smoothie recipes. And if you’re not convinced, here’s a leaked excerpt from a pending post for Overheard at Smith: “How do you like your fruit? Peeled? Pulped? Pulverized?” Students are in bedlam, as no one can figure out how the blender phenomena arose. In a campus search for the truth, many ideas have cropped up during intense academic debates and late night intoxicated rants, both activities independent of the other, of course. The wildest theory so far is that blending has become a solution for college debt by saving money on floss, but that is terribly, horrifyingly incorrect. Friends, let us together become like yogurt; let’s become cultured.
The term “blend” is used not only as a verb or noun in casual conversation, but also as a mantra. A tip shared within the blender community is to repeat the word “blend” in a monotonic tone and style as you wait for your ingredients to form the perfect fusion in color and flavor. This practice supposedly allows us to work on our self-control and patience because the word “blend” rhymes with “end,” and repeating it trains the impatient soul to focus not on the result, but on the physical process of blending. With such soothing effects, it’s no surprise as to why the under-the-third-floor subculture in Cushing has been able to thrive for the past three academic weeks.
For authenticity purposes, let me clarify that I bought my blender in early September at a discounted price in return for providing my honest and unbiased review to the Smith community. So based on a non-representative sample of one (myself), blender-users stake their lives on their blend machines. No longer are drinks 99 percent juice and 1 percent hand sweat from squeezing fruit! Gone are smoothie-less days and milkshake-less nights. Blenders offer limitless possibilities to their user, and their powers should be realized all throughout campus. Just take it from me: my blender has allowed me to become a chef, an artist, a chemist and apparently now, a writer.