I'm not sure if it was my seventh birthday or not, but just go with me here. I was going to go into the swimming pool, and someone was like "oh you're supposed to wait thirty minutes" and I just ran away from them in fear (this was childhood Tori for: whatever/meanie!/straaaannnger! no!/not really/ maybe/pretty much my reaction to feeling anything). But I wanted to prove them wrong. So I ate. In the pool. Game changer, huh? I used a floatyboard as a table and had a pickle. The pickle kept floating away, the taste of chlorine was omnipresent in my mouth, and it was the best pickle I ever ate. Because it tasted like freedom, defiance of social norms, and birthday.