Christie's morphed into 7-Eleven last summer as well, but the only addition I noticed was the Slurpee machine. After gazing longingly at the bright red cups and party straws for a week, I took the plunge. Coke slurpees became our excuse--all summer--to step out of the office. I happily and gleefully slurped my way through the afternoon, nothing saddening me more than the tell-tale flavorless suck telling me: You have struck slush.

Senior fall was not a time of major culinary discoveries, but of learning of shared histories and tastes. Working at The Crimson through the night on Tuesdays, the other editors and I discovered a mutual affinity for Junior Mints. One of us would snag a box from the vending machine, and soon no one could focus on the work at hand. At first the requests were tentative, the carton-shaking uninspired. But soon we ate communally, each warming the mushy lozenges as we reached deeper in, stretching the mouth of the box wider, happy to mush one in pursuit of a happy handful.

Thesis-writing was a lonely experience--full of long and wasteful hours at the Law School library. Deprived of companionship and free time, I could not bear self-restraint in any other domain. I found chocolate-covered cookie-dough balls at Broadway Market. The nuggets of crunchy sugar eventually caused my throat to ache, but the suffering and the sweetness went hand-in-hand. The bag was usually emptied before my computer could start up.

The night before my thesis was due, my roommate even brought me my favorite Herrell's sundae. (You can get them to go, in space-age insulated bags.) On my working schedule, she penciled in a 5 a.m. sundae break (between revising chapters two and three). I didn't have time to eat it then. I ate it at 5 p.m. when I got home. Our makeshift freezer kept it cool and runny. I ate the sundae, as happy as I had ever been, and went to sleep for 16 hours.

Take this homage as my own little directory. Cambridge harbors a panoply of treats, easily accessed on a walk home, an errand run, or a blind date. Forget cavities and fillings for a moment--it's the sweet tastes and memories of them that last, and, furthermore, give you the sweetest feelings about what you leave behind.

Anna M. Schneider-Mayerson '00, a social studies concentrator in Kirkland House, was associate editor of Fifteen Minutes in 1999.