Gelato and Big Red Buttons

Ciao!

I am writing to all you beautiful gutsy people from the breathtaking land of Tuscany, Italy.

Before I left, I was literally telling everybody and their mom that I was going to Italy. A touch annoying? Probably – regardless, almost everybody who I spoke to about my trip responded with some variation of this sentence, “Oh my goodness – the gelato!!! You must eat your body weight in gelato!” I usually responded with a smile and a polite nod followed by, “Yes, I hear it is to die for”.

So as my mom and I walked around the cobblestone streets of Cortona last night, as expected, I saw people eating gelato on every step, every stoop, every patio, long story short – it was everywhere. My mom and I entered one of the gelato extravaganza shops (which I am sure is the formal name for them). I asked the lady behind the counter (who spoke spot amounts of English) if any of the flavours were made with fruit ice (knowing the slim chances of them having a lactose free option), instead of milk. Looking like a deer in headlights, she picked up the phone, muttered some Italian and quickly hung up the phone. Now, it could have been the major language barrier between us, or the fact that I was asking for ice cream with…well, no cream. Oxymoron anyone?

Now here is the thing, in my everyday life if I can get my hands on lactose free ice cream – fantastic. But it is not something I ultimately crave and seek out anymore. But ever since people have started on with this life altering gelato experience I am supposed to have in Italy, and now seeing it, it is all I think about. My brain (well, more like my intestines) are telling me no, but my mouth is telling me yes.

It’s the negative suggestion effect. This is the idea that a suggestion or command NOT to do something will actually increase the likelihood of somebody actually doing it. A friend of mine introduced this idea to me a few months back, and it cannot be truer. Picture this – you are sitting in a room, maybe with a friend, maybe alone. Next to you there is a large red button on the wall and underneath the big red button there is a sign that reads, “DO NOT PRESS THE RED BUTTON!”

What is the first thing that you want to do when you read that sign? YOU DESPERATELY WANT TO PRESS THE RED BUTTON!!! AM I RIGHT?!

I’ve decided it could probably take up a chapter in the story of my life, and a lot of IBD-ers lives.

“Taylor, don’t eat salad!” What do I want to eat? Salad.

“Taylor, don’t eat popcorn!” What do I want to eat? Popcorn.

“Taylor, don’t eat fresh fruits and vegetables!” What do I want to eat? Fresh fruits and vegetables.

“Taylor, don’t steal the fancy three ply toilet paper out of that washroom for your house at school!” What do I want to do? Steal the toilet paper!!!

Oy Vey!

So hey, do me a favour and don’t eat any bananas!?

Ciao a tutti voi ragazzi e ragazze Gutsy!

Taylor

P.S. Yes, I used Google Translater for that departing statement. I haven’t picked up that much Italian...yet....

P.P.S. Feel free to offer up any lactose free gelato advice?!