Thursday, September 28, 2006

Pop Pop Fizz Fizz - You're Weird

Thank you all for commiserating with me about Kroger's complete asshattery. I have fired off a letter to their corporate offices which I'm sure will be promptly put in the circular file (aka trash can.)

I also enjoyed hearing what other peoples' addictions were after posting about my cereal, ahem, issue. I noted several people were addicted to pop (hey, I grew up in the Midwest. Side note: you can tell if someone is from the Midwest if they 1) Say "pop" instead of "soda", 2) Actually know what Euchre is and, 3) Don't pronounce the goddamn "s" in Illinois - please!)

Which causes me to share another little idiosyncracy about moi - I abhor pop. Have never had more than a sip of it in my life. Yes, yes, I hear you calling me a weirdo and all sorts of other unnecessarily cruel names - I've heard it all my life. Just imagine me attending little Sarah's birthday party and asking her mom if I could have water instead of pop. Then imagine her mom yelling, "What - you don't like pop?" and all the other children looking at me, pointing and laughing.

It's actually not pop per se that I don't like. It's the bubbles. I hate carbonation and the icky, fizziness of it on my tongue and down my throat. (Oh dear, that sentence is probably going to direct some weird sex traffic to my blog. Is that how you got here Mr. Fab? wink wink)

So, I don't drink beer or champagne either -nothing carbonated. For the toast at my wedding I have a great picture of my husband and I each holding our champagne flutes, arms charmingly entertwined, only mine was filled with Grey Goose and a splash of cranberry juice.

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