Thursday, July 29, 2010

Uh, your participle is totally dangling...

I hate writing.

Well, let me clarify.  A lot of me hates writing.

See, when I was a kidlet, I was super smart.  Incidentally, however smart I was as a kid, I think I peaked.  I think I just never got smarter.

When we were little, my whole family moved from Colorado (where I was born) to Germany.  And in Germany, someone had me tested.  I was "gifted" and encouraged to leap up a few grades.

My mom decided that developmentally, I probably shouldn't.  She didn't want me to be teased or something.  Which is funny because HELLO!  I was teased like NON STOP even when I was in the correct grade.  What the heck was going to stop people from doing such a thing just because I was in a grade higher than mine?  Was she worried that they would use bigger words than "doo-doo head?"

Anyway, the concession between teachers and my mom was that they would put me in higher math classes during part of the day.  That way I could be brainy smart for some of the day but then a regular kid during most of the day.  Like Peter Parker.  Only without a penis.  And more nerdy.  And less super spidey abilities.  But other than that, just like Peter Parker.*

The effect of me going to the smarty math classes was that I had to skip out on the "regular" English classes.  This meant that I never learned what a preposition was or why an adverb should be used in one place versus another.  So by my parents trying to make me Nerdy Math Girl, they made me Nerdy Math Girl Who Doesn't Know Crap About Her Own Language.  And NMGWDKCAHOL is a long abbreviation to put on a cape - no matter how big the girl.

So long story short (too late), I don't know crap about writing.  Anything that I do write correctly is because I know about patterns...and I can think about what I'm going to write or say, measure it against the way I've heard other people speak, and then repeat it like a parrot.

Now I want a cracker.

I'm worried that some person is going to pop up and comment something like, "ACTUALLY, everyone knows that an adverse adverb when pluralized belongs in the conjunction of the implied alliteration and the...." and then my head would burst into flames due to a) embarrassment and b) my brain can't take in all those English terms at once.  Obviously.  Because I'm pretty sure I butchered my mocking of English rules.  Scratch that.  I know I did.

So I'll make a deal with you.  I'll try to post more often here if you don't ever post a comment about how I'm using a pronoun or adjective incorrectly. Not that any of you WOULD, but I think I worry that I'm not a good enough writer.  You know, good enough to blog in my own blogspot.  That is free.  And that no one is obligated to read. And that I don't get a grade on.  (sigh) I get it.  I'm irrational.  But really, why else do you come here?

And I know some of you.  You guys are thinking, "But Happy Fun Pants!  You're posting on your other healthy living/weight loss blog almost ever day!  Why do the rules of writing not apply over there?"

My answer: THAT blog is for fatties.  The readers over there are my homies, my people.  And everyone knows that fatties stick's like the one thing I DID learn in my "regular" part of school. So, the last thing they're going to do is post a snooty comment about the misplacement of a modified verb... lest I eat them.


*Let the record show that I originally wrote Parker Posey instead of Peter Parker.  Man, I even suck at being nerdy!  The Babe nicely informed me that I was the most wrong ever (see comments below), but in my defense, how does she know that Parker Posey DOESN'T have a penis?  Or Spidey Sense?  I'm just saying it's a possibility.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

POMably not what they had in mind...

The kind folks at POM Wonderful sent me some POM juice the other day.  They actually didn't ask me to write a review...they just wanted to send me some juice.  Normally, I'd shy away from this sort of thing (the whole something for nothing routine), but since they didn't pull up in my neighborhood asking me to get inside their white van, I figured I was okay.  Probably just as well, chances are, I'd have run straight into the side of it anyway. *

Actually, I was pretty psyched about getting the juice...I remember Jack (who thinks the bottle can double as a sex toy) and Roni talking about the freebies they got from the company, but they seem like such BIG did I get included on this list of who's who?  I felt *very* cool.  Which is funny...because I'm so NOT important.  It's not like I'm Obama.  Or Ghandi.  Or Brangelina.  Or even one of the Olsen Twins in their heyday (circa 1982).  So basically, I got on the list via a typo by someone.  Whatever, I'm totally taking it.

Anyway, I came home one day and Joe said that I might've received an organ in the mail.  Thinking he meant a pipe organ, I gave him a quizzical look.  So he said, "You know, like a heart.  Not like a church organ! Who would send you that?"  In my defense, he couldn't exactly think of someone who would send me a vital organ either.

It turns out, he didn't know what was in the box, but he did see that it had a sticker on the side that said "REFRIGERATE IMMEDIATELY."  So Joe did - without opening the box (he didn't want to violate my privacy).  Thus his joke about someone shipping me organs.

So I'll say this to any POM people who could or would be reading.  You could really remove a lot of confusion surrounding the double meaning of the word "organ" if you would put a sticker on the side that said, "Refrigerate immediately.  Don't be alarmed, though.  This box does not contain any organs.  Of any kind.  Probably."  That way if they WANTED to put organs in the box, they totally could without having to re-print stickers.  Look at me, POM people.  I'm totally making your shipping department more streamlined.  You're welcome.

When I finally got around to opening the package, there were a few bottles of POM Blueberry Pomegranate juice and some great tips and info about pomegranates and its juice.  All of that is at home or else I'd probably go into it here.  Let's just say it's probably got a lot of health benefits.  I know.  I'm the worst on-the-spot reviewer ever.

When we first got it, I drank some and handed the little cute-as-can-be bottle to Joe.  Who took a sip and said something profound like, "meh."  I liked was sweet and tart, tangy and sweet.  I should stop and say that I drink juice maybe once a year.  I just got out of the habit years ago and never really reintroduced it.  So while the POM juice was a welcome surprise and pleasant change, it's not something that I would normally pick up, just like the fate of any other juice.  It's nothing personal, POM people.

I WILL try cooking with it because they list a lot of great recipes on their website...and some of them look pretty tasty. 

But last night?  I was trying to make room in the fridge for leftovers.  Leftovers being something that I cooked and decided to not waste calories and stomach space on by eating.  Smart right?'d think so.

While re-organizing the kitchen for better space usage, I saw these few little bottles of POM just waiting to be moved.  Because they are weird shaped (but so cute!), I couldn't really stack them on top of each other...or stack them...or shove them in the fridge door.  So I decided to drink one.

But after a sip, inspiration struck me.  I decided that what it would go REALLY well with was some Malibu Rum that was also in the fridge door.

YIKES.  What I found out was that this was the best tasting mixed drink EVAH.  Tart, sweet, tangy, fruity, and YUMMY.

Two little POM bottles later (16 ounces of juice, and 360 calories of JUICE) and a few shots of coconut flavored rum mixed in each time and I was happy.   I even let Joe have a sip who said that I know how to mix a good drink.  Right.  That's me.  The bartender....the one with hot-shot complicated drinks... like juice and alcohol.

Good thing I passed on the leftovers...nothing like wasted calories, huh?


* Which reminds me, you totally need to enter that sweepstakes via the link...seriously, not many people have done so, so your chances of winning $150 are looking better each day!

For those that double subscribe yes, this was over on Smaller Fun Pants first.  What can I say?  I thought it was funny enough to be here too. :)  Besides, I don't want the readers who only read this one to feel neglected...

Disclaimer: I was comped a few bottles of Blueberry Pomegranate POM Wonderful. But the honest review and tipsy-ness that ensued shortly afterwards was all me, baby!

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Laugh and win!

Good morning!!! I have something SO exciting to share with you.

I was picked to write funny posts about fitness, eating, and cooking each month for six months by Laughing Cow and BlogHer. How cool is that?!?

It's like the movie "Julie and Julia" but without Meryl Streep. And without Amy Adams. And it's not only about cooking. Also, it's not a movie. But you know, other than all that, this is JUST like that movie.

So...since it's a sponsored thing, I can't post it on this blog. You have to go to my review blog to read it. But please do!

It's my first post on that blog... and I'm feeling a like I've just invited a bunch of people to a party, it's a few minutes until it starts, and no one is arriving yet. What's going through my head is the typical hostess cry, "OH MY GOSH WHAT IF PEOPLE DON'T SHOW?!?!? And what am I going to do with all of this cheese?"

Leave a comment and you can win $150 in this month's sweepstakes. Although I don't have any control over it, I would love for the winner to be one of MY readers - because (and I may be a bit biased here) you guys are the best. If you want, you can become a follower on that blog and you won't miss another opportunity to enter the next few month's drawings as well. Also I will feel less like the kid picked last for kickball.

Good luck and thank you in advance for checking it out!

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

For Pete's Sake, Don't Drop the Soap

I don't know when it started, but I'd miss it if it were gone.

When I started dating Joe, over a year ago, I was struck by how...well...wholesome he was. He's *that guy* you want to take home to your mom. The one who says the right thing, who knows which fork is for what at fancy restaurants, and the one who can recite all the presidents we've had.

But he's also a goof.

A funny guy with a persistence unlike anyone else I've ever met when it comes to making me laugh. That's right. If I laugh once about something, you can believe that he'll make the same joke again and again until it loses it's funny. Which isn't to say that he is a one-trick pony. No. This guy is super witty and we joke about different stuff all of the time. It's just he's smart enough to know when a joke works.

And truly, I don't know when it started, but it's been going on for a while and it still makes me break into giggle fits.

He humps me from behind.

Now, bear with me. This isn't another story about how I got felt up in church or anything like that.

What I mean is that if my back is to him and I happen to have my butt pushed out in some way, he'll pretend to hump me.

The thing is, it cracks me up. To be fair, this only happens when he's in reasonably close proximity (he won't run across the room to "humpity," but if he's close and paying attention, watch out!) and when we're not in the presence of anyone else. AND it's not like he does this all day long. Nope, just a humpity or two in any given week.

I guess what I'm saying is, he doesn't over-use the humpity. Not too much and not too little. The perfect amount of humpity action.

I affix a deadpan look and usually after a few "humpity"s, he'll stop, step aside so he can see my face of complete boredom, and then look all proud of himself - like he's just given me a bunch of flowers. Sometimes he nods emphatically. It's usually then that I burst into laughter.

So, reaching for something on top of the fridge? Humpity.

Brushing my teeth at the sink and bending down to spit out the froth? Humpity.

Stirring something in a pot on the stove? Humpity.

During a long elevator ride? Humpity humpity humpity.

Heaven help me if I bend over to tie my shoe...