If you are like me, you can mark out the boundaries of the phases in your life with packages of instant ramen.
When I was young and poor, instant ramen was a source of cheap calories, a meal that fit into a budget centered more around the procurement of twelve packs and drum sticks than nutrition. My ramen intake centered on packets of Maruchan brand instant ramen, bought by the case for less than a few dollars and stashed into "my" cabinet in a kitchen shared with three other people and the bands that floated in and out of our basement studio.
When I was young and not so poor, instant ramen was a source of quick calories that fit a schedule centered around long work days and commutes that consisted of walking, buses and subways. For stowing lunch and dinners away in messenger bags and desk drawers, my ramen preference became noodles in styrofoam cups. The all-in-one package was easy and quick, cleanup consisted of rinsing off a pair of cheap chop sticks in the water fountain down the hall from my cube before tossing them back into a drawer for another day.
Now I am older and more middle class than I'd like to admit. As such, instant ramen has not been a part of my life beyond quick moments of recall when I happen to catch that scene in Elf when a poor Zooey Deschanel tucks into a bowl after a day's work. For me, Deschanel captures the visage of "every person," at the beginning of the journey twoard whom they will eventually become, sitting in the same position in front of the tv, in the same secondhand chair with a blanket tossed over the back to hide tears and stains in its well worn fabric, the same bowl of instant noodles doing its level best to compensate for a diet that's been missing since you've moved out of your parents' home.
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