Most “girly” drinks are made with vodka.
The Official Food of Women is yogurt.
So, with jello shots, the vodka sinks to the bottom, right?
And some of the best yogurts have fruit on the bottom, right?
My idea: Yogurt with vodka on the bottom. Market to women with moderate to severe PMS and menstrual cramps. I would totally buy this product.
One big step towards becoming an adult is moving all your crap out of your parents’ house. I was lucky enough to live in the same house for my entire childhood and adolescence (plus a couple of brief, embarrassing months after college graduation), so there was a lot of crap to move.
My closet was a veritable treasure chest of nostalgia-inducing junk. Among the lawn flamingoes, Hanson posters and questionable fashion choices, I discovered this:
It’s my kindergarten report card!
I was always a good Do-Bee as a kid, so having all “Satisfactory” marks was not a surprise to me. What was surprising was my teacher’s final comment:
“Erin’s young age is only apparent emotionally. She is an outstanding beginning reader and does really well in math also. Now if she realizes her capabilities and stops worrying about everything, she will be a high achiever!
“The developmental program should continue to be a good one for Erin. She certainly has gained many skills and is ready for first grade.
-J. Peters”
Again, “…if she realizes her capabilities and stops worrying about everything, she will be a high achiever!”
I.. what…?
This assessment still applies, 22 years later.
And that’s how I discovered that I will probably never be an adult. Or that I have been a neurotic adult since I was 5.
…I learned that Hell is supposed to be somewhere where God is not with you. This made no sense to me, because God is supposedly everywhere. When I asked my religion teacher about this, she said something to the effect of, “well, God chooses not to be in Hell.” It’s been a decade and I still don’t know what that means.
…my religion teacher told me that it was a sin to pollute the Earth and waste resources. This teacher drove a giant SUV.
…my geometry teacher helped us with a mnemonic to remember what a six-sided polygon is called. She tiptoed to the classroom door, closed it quietly and then tiptoed back to where she had been standing. She learned forward and whispered, “Six. Sex. Hex.” She paused for a moment, clearly embarrassed about using the “S”-word. Then she opened the classroom door again and went back to teaching as though nothing had happened.